Most of All

And, most of all, this world is one of darkness. Most of all, I know I am afraid. Most of all, I had all these ideas I thought I adhered to. Most of all, stormy weathers came and ravaged most of them all away.

And, most of all, I know I have been foolish. Most of all, I know I have been headstrong. Most of all, I don’t know the full picture[s] of things. Most of all, I know I meet them, truly, and once and once again, I am proven wrong.

Most of all, people are grown up versions of the worried little child. The lonely one; the one who did not like to share.

The fist-clenched little furious one; the show-off; the one who hurts because she cared.

Most of all, there is a certain sort of poetry to all this pain and all this loss. This is humanity; what we love and are aiming for, truly, comes at a cost. Darkness falls, a blanket, everywhere. I’ve been in a state of losing my trust in many things; still, in blindness, I will care.

I hope, dear readers, that we can make the most of this Arafah day. May Allah grant us whatever is best for us, in Dunya and Ākhirah, Āmeen.

With Salaam, Sadia, 2021.

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