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The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, breaking the stillness. My alarm jolted me awake at 5 a.m., dragging me from the remnants of sleep. The grogginess was momentary, quickly replaced by a quiet determination as I rose from my bed and performed ablution, the cool water shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. It wasn’t just a physical act; it felt like a cleansing of the mind as well, preparing me for the day ahead.
I stood for Fajr prayer, the tranquility of the early morning settling over me, enveloping me in a sense of peace. The words of the Quran reverberated in my mind, each recitation bringing a deeper connection, a reminder of the strength and guidance available to me. I felt a renewed sense of purpose with each prostration, my heart aligned with something greater than myself.
Once I had finished my prayers, I stepped outside, hoping the fresh morning air would clear my mind further, prepare me for the challenges of the day. The lawn lay still, bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun. And there, sitting on a bench, was Tahera. The light kissed her face, making her appear almost ethereal, like a vision of calm amidst the quiet beauty of the dawn. My heart skipped a beat as I walked toward her.
"Good morning, Tahera," I greeted her softly, the reverence of the early hour in my voice. "What brings you out here so early?"
Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. There was a vulnerability there, a softness that made my heart ache. "I couldn’t sleep," she said, her voice gentle, almost as though she were sharing a secret. "The morning seemed too beautiful to miss."
As we sat together, the golden light of the rising sun surrounding us, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. It was serendipitous, almost surreal, that I should find her here in this quiet moment, and I allowed myself to simply be in it.
We sat in companionable silence, savoring the peacefulness of the morning. After a while, I broke the stillness with a suggestion. "Come, let me make you some coffee."
She smiled at that, her eyes softening with affection, and hopped onto the counter opposite me as I moved to prepare the coffee. I worked with a familiarity that came from years of doing this for myself, but as I glanced at her, I noticed the way she watched me, a look of quiet admiration in her eyes.
"Ap har kaam itne aasani se kaise kar lete hain?" she asked softly, a note of wonder in her voice.
I smiled at her, the warmth of her gaze grounding me. "Har kaam itna aasan nahi hota hai, Tahera," I replied, my voice gentle but carrying a quiet firmness. "Sometimes, it’s about finding ways to make things easier, and other times, it’s about building the strength inside to face what’s difficult."
