Alnihayya

||B u l b u l||

T h i r t y  S i x
This one is for coolfashiondive
:)

Thank Allah for the
loneliness and sadness that turns your heart away from the dunya
and towards Him.

Thank Allah for the
disappointment and despair that turns your heart away from the creation and towards Him.

☆

Mashal

I've been acknowledged to the type of chirping birds do in my neighbourhood for years.
Ever since I had started praying fajr, It was my hobby to observe them each morning, listening to their talks.

So I could tell, when I heard a bird singing outside my window, that it wasn't a usual bird. I rubbed my eyes with my knuckles and mumbled the supplication for waking up before I slipped out of the bed.
Streaks of sunlight from the curtained window, lightened up the room.

The bird was still singing, it's voice clearer than the others. I walked up to the window and slipped the curtain out of the way.

A smile immediately made its to way to my face when I saw a tiny bulbul perched upon my window sill. A perky whiskered bird with white cheeks, a tuft on its head and voice more beautiful than a nightingale.

I didn't know whether to be happy or surprised to see it there. It was my favourite bird but it didn't belong here in Manchester. It's very rare to spot a Bulbul here. It's native area is in Iran and the South Asian countries.

The thing that makes bulbul so special is that it's song is its yearning to meet its beloved. Its beautiful notes have been translated as 'where are you my beloved?'

In Persian and Urdu poetry the bulbul and it's love for the rose flower has been used for centuries.

The bulbul is in love with the rose and it goes to the garden to sing for its beloved, to mourn that they are far apart and not together.

The tiny bird kept on singing at the top of its lungs. I closed my eyes and listened to the sweet melody. It was a metaphor for me. I had always imagined my soul to be a bulbul and the rose to be Allah. I would fly high in the sky like a bulbul, as high as my tiny wings would allow but when I still wouldn't be able to reach Allah my rose, I would come back and cry.

The bird flew away after some time, leaving me with fresh tears in my eyes. I fell to the ground and performed sajdah e shukr (prostration to thank Allah).

I praised the Almighty and instead of praying to get everything perfectly done, I prayed for patience so that even if everything goes wrong, it still remains perfect.

It was 28th February today.
A lot was going to happen.

I had slept again after fajr since my college starts late. Marwa and Uncle Sueliman had already left for school and work.

I got dressed and had my coffee before walking out of the house for college. I didn't bother to take my notes for revision. Revising at the last moment jumbles up everything in your brain.

So it's better that,
First you do your best.
Then to Allah you
leave the rest.

I smiled at the little rhyme I had just come up with. I think all that Persian poetry is having an effect on me.

As usual, the world slid by the bus. Staring out through the window was like watching a fast forward of an exciting movie. By the time staring outside the window had started making me dizzy, I finally reached the exam centre.