What It Whispers.

define.

The orange tag clad her neck, hanging down her chest. She smiled along with her happy friend. Her world was so different from mine, where she would meet a thousand others while I wouldn't.
I type away and speak of a world unseen yet so hopeful. I live in the confines within the bubble cherishing the essence of a few. I dreamt of normalcy without normalcy in its actuality. I dreamt of being aloof yet to be between thousands of others who might be called strangers.
To me education isn't about books, but stories. Stories not of the world where romeo has to die for Juliet...rather where neither can die no matter what.
I have become nomadic roaming through the expansive sands trying to belong within...never trying to actually belong. I roamed to grow up within myself for I feared if I had grown like they asked me to, the impending peril of oceans might not destroy me rather the toxicity of too much of the same wickedness would.
The girl in the picture merely went to educate herself and build her career and the girl who saw it built herself within... She grew too much within and felt everything so deeply that she feared that she hadn't known enough.
The grown ups wouldn't spare her for not knowing enough of the world...they ask her to talk about what actually matters. The minting of money, the pleasure of a  husband and some about the degree...nothing pleased her . For she felt shallow to love like that ..and in her world normalcy was defined differently. Trying to figure out what, she walked distances unknown and spent hours exploring herself within, and this unseen connection with the universe...something so deep had to be discovered and for the umpteenth time realization hit her. She simply didn't belong here.
She will be that stranger who will always be the lover of everyone. And all she wanted was for now to find another stranger who would love boundlessly and head towards the depth which lay ahead, awaiting with open arms.
Smiling she looked up at the sky...and she muttered... Ya muqallibal quloob thabbith Qalbi ala deenak*. For the heaviness in her heart was always lightened by submitting it to the Turner of hearts.
She wondered if someone out there too had a crimson thing beating within craving to find the home. The home where two arms embrace and engulf in the passionate scent of divine love.
---------------------------------------------------------
*Oh Turner of hearts. Make my heart firm in your religion. - the dua uttered often by Rasool Sallallahu alayhi was sallam.

As this is called 'what it whispers ', everything is put raw and deep, just exactly how the heart whispers or the soul perceives. Pls forgive me if it is not understood or if you find any errors. Constructive criticism is appreciated! And I'd love to hear your thoughts, so why not comment away?
Sending love!
- Aara.