I want to pen (type) it down before it gets lost in the whirl of thoughts in my brain..
It was winters. The season I love. And it was evening. Oh yes it was.. darkness eating up the sky early as it does in winter. It was barely 5:30 but was pitch dark. I had some evening classes and I usually came back late. The place was about five minutes from my house and I loved that walk. Like I said.. I just love running around the planet. Busy. Busy
So there I was.. walking merrily with some other girls. The streets were not empty but a healthy number of people were moving around. The type that makes streets alive but not crowded to a negative extent. As I was about two minutes from my house, I saw bunch of old men coming out from a mosque, probably after offering their evening prayers. I was way too happy for the simple reason that I had been way too busy that day. As I came forward, I saw a really old man walking really slowly with his folks. It was pitch dark, he could barely see me, Plus with my face all hidden. I smiled at him real bright behind the cover and bowed my head just an inch, Just as I used to do when Grandpa was around.
I cannot explain what happened next. He was several yards away from me. He turned a bit, lifted his head up, straightened his old, sort-of-bent body,looked at me straight and nodded as if he knew what I just did. I was thunderstruck. There was absolutely no way he could’ve seen my face, and I usually walk with my head little bowed down.. But I could see his face because of the lights issuing from the mosque. My eyes were big and bright as I moved away into my street and rang the bell. Thank you Sir for making me feel special that day. Maybe it was your prayers that helped me pursue peace. Maybe your prayers help me survive. Whatever the case might be… I feel as if I owe you…