Haven Of Peace

The street lights are a warm vintage gold illuminating the walkways, casting grey forms on the monochrome walls of a block of flats. An alley cat, it's ribs poking through its pitch black, unclean fur, scrounges around in a dumpster piled high with empty cans and boxes, rotting leftover fruit and vegetables in glossy-black, semi-shredded plastic bags. The scent produced is so ghastly and revolting that one actually wishes to be rid of his sense of smell. The roads are dotted with cars in shimmery metallic colours of every make, their engines roaring and hooters and pop music blaring. Along every avenue, there are people walking hastily . Such are the norms of bustling, fast-paced New York City life. The hopes and egos of the people here are as high as the skyscrapers they live in.

And then there's me, a sixteen year old girl who is more down-to-earth than gravity. I sometimes wonder if there is anyone in this concrete jungle like me. I come to the conclusion that perhaps there is, but until our paths cross, I was going to have to learn to enjoy being by myself. That's where being an introverted nature-lover comes in handy.

Right now I want to be away from the loud, eardrum-bursting sounds, vile smells and the claustrophobic atmosphere that has such a tight hold on me that I feel like I'm about to explode into huge flames of the brain-frying frustration that has been burning me alive since I moved here.

I suddenly know exactly where I want to be! A ride in a conventional, sunshine yellow New York cab later sees me at the oasis of this 21st century, urban desert: Central Park ; my haven of peace, beacon of solace, island of blissful solitude and tranquil escape from clamorous urban life.

I seat myself in my usual spot (beneath a wide-trunked cherry blossom tree straight out of a fairytale) and open up my leather-bound Qur'an and begin reciting. A gentle breeze whistles through the leaves, rustles the pale pink cotton-candy-coloured petals of the cherry blossoms and sends an ever so slight ripple through the soft grass as well as the loose end of my burgundy cotton 'hijab'. I could not be more at peace. I come across the following verse: "Do they not see the birds above them with wings outspread and (sometimes) folded in? None holds them (aloft) except The Most Merciful. Indeed He is, of all things, Seeing"

As if on cue, I look above to see two tiny, rounded figures of charcoal and bright tangerine fluttering from one chocolate branch to the next and chirping harmoniously. It makes me ponder on the verse and that is when I realise that my haven of peace is actually in reciting and pondering over the meaning of The Word of God. All along I've been searching for depth in the shallow minds of egomaniacal humans, but to no avail. This is my earthly heaven. The Qur'an, along with its vivid illustrations and thought-provoking insight into the world of nature is my mirror to the lush gardens of paradise and my portal into an ever so mesmerising world.