It was almost 7pm and I was still walking towards Darul Arqam. I really must be there soon because I made a promise to be there before maghrib. Turning round the corner, I caught a glimpse of the building that houses Darul Arqam. I walked briskly to the traffic light crossing to wait for it to turn green. Suddenly, an irritating buzz in my trouser pocket went off. I fumbled in shock and after a while, managed to fish out my pager. There was a message, “Are you here yet? Aadillah.”
“Yes,” I hissed to myself. There was no point looking for a phone to return the message when I was only 50 metres away from my destination. I chose to ignore it.
I walked up the stairs to the volunteers’ waiting room. There I looked for Aadillah to say hello. She was not around. Looking at the time, clearly she must be praying. I went down the stairs again to the prayer room to perform my prayers.
After maghrib prayers, I returned to the waiting room. I found Aadillah busy filling up some forms. I asked if she needed any help. She replied, “Yes, have your dinner. Finish as much food as you can too.” “With pleasure, ma’am!”
I ate what I liked and then went downstairs again to usher in the guests, who were arriving, into the function room. After work was done, I sat down to listen to the brother deliver his lecture on the signs of the end of days. During the break, I retired to the waiting room for a cup of coffee to keep me both warm and awake. I settled down into the plush sofa to enjoy my drink. After a while, I dozed off, lulled to sleep by tiredness and the pleasant background music.
I had a sudden feeling of discomfort, like as if someone was watching me. My eyelids immediately flicked open, only to be slammed shut again when the harsh fluorescent lighting assaulted my eyesight. Slowly, I opened my eyes again and I saw a whitish apparition sitting on the sofa opposite mine. Sleep was still heavy on my eyes and I could not make out who or what that apparition was.
My blood was running cold thinking that “it” was a ghost and I tried to regain focus of my sight. As my focus returned, I realised that the apparition was in fact a person; a girl. She was dressed in a long white dress with plant motifs embroidered in blue thread. She was also wearing a long white hijab that accentuated her beautifully sculptured facial features. She had snowy white skin and I saw no trace of make up. She looked at me with her beautiful black eyes. From her beautifully formed lips, as red as a rose petal, came a shy smile to acknowledge my attention. She blushed and immediately shifted her gaze to the floor before her.
Her eyes and smile made my heart skip a beat. I thought that I must have seen an angel. Unconsciously, I smiled too but it was an awkward one. “Who would ever want to smile at me?” I wondered. I spent the next one minute, which felt like an eternity, admiring this beauty that Allah created.
“You were sleeping like a baby,” she finally spoke with her eyes looking down.
“Really? I must have been tired,” I answered.
“I am sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t mean to,” she said apologetically. With that, she rose and excused herself.
I sat there and watched her move away. She walked with such grace, uncommon in Singaporean girls I have known, that befitted her beauty. Her voice was sweet but has a raspy edge to it. I praised Allah for His creation. He has gifted her with beauty and grace but held back on giving her the voice to complement them. Perhaps, there might be a blessing behind that. I also thanked Him for giving me the pleasure of being able to witness His greatness. I was positively smitten.
For the next two days that the lecture was conducted, I continued to volunteer as I had promised Aadillah. Now, however, I had an even greater motivation to turn up, I wanted to meet her again and I was not disappointed. I told my friends about her and they put me through some good natured ribbing.
Later after the conclusion of the lecture, Syed, an acquaintance that I made while volunteering pulled me aside. “I would like you to meet someone,” he said while pulling me by the arm.
He brought me to the staircase. There I saw a lady waiting, her back facing me but she seemed strangely familiar. As we approached, she turned and greeted us with a smile. It was her. I felt faint.
“I would like you to meet Yusnita. She is a cousin of mine…….,” Syed said as his voice trailed off. He was saying a lot more but the only word that reverberated in my mind was “Yusnita”. That was all that mattered.
© 2008 Khairul Nizam B Yahaya
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