In the name of Allah the most beneficent, the most merciful
I testify that there's no God to be worshiped but Allah
And I testify that Muhammad (SAW) is His messenger.
This is another story.
Again, it's not bout you and me.
It's just about them, who cares.
* * * * *
12.00 a.m
The mp3 player cracked her ears.
With a headphone,
she would never miss it, not a single moment.
The song replaced.
Pray-Justin Bieber.
Then it was Palestine Tomorrow will be free- Maher Zain.
She took off her headphone for a while.
She glared at her watch, it's 12.00 a.m
the day after Valentine.
Suddenly tears rolled down her cheeks so profusely.
She couldn't barely stop it.
Not long after that,
Comes Mother, Father and her sister.
"Honey, it's your birthday." Mom was carrying a cake. Her favourite cake.
"Why on earth are you here?" Dad, as always. Never ending care.
"Listen here lil sis. This cake is super-dooper-cool. A plus." she tasted it a little bit and put some on her sister's cheeks.
"Honey wait. Are you crying?" She took a look at the cake. Blueberry cheese. Almost right, her favourite.
She eventually got it. She remembered couple days ago when she really yearn for a blueberry cheese cake, and it's just in front of her eyes. with ponds in her eyes, she dare herself to look at faces in front of her.
"Now make du'a." She closed her eyes.
"Okay. Enjoy," cheered her sister. She just simply smiled and walk away.
She ran upstairs.
And tears rolled down her cheeks again. This time,its even worse.
Because she never really sure the reason why.
Hey, you're big girl now.
"Dear, something's wrong somewhere?"
"No. Nothing had ever been wrong with me. Everything was so perfectly clear and so smoothly went in my life. Throughout these years. I should've been grateful for this, am I? A happy family, a loving bunch of great friends, a well-being life, a good education, simply a perfect life."
" Then what mess you up?"
"Because I had always circled with a happy and well-being life, I sometimes forgot. I have them, whom never get the chances to know how does it feels being me. Because I never know how painstaking it was to be them. because I've been living for quite some ages and yet, I have contribute nothing for Islam. Mom, what did I do after living so much years without thinking of others? I am too selfish am I? "
"Dear, it's just the matter of time. sooner or later, you'll get the chance to let them know how beautiful life is. And sooner you'll get to know how hard it is, being them."
"Mom, why didn't Palestine get the freedom? when will it be? How could I be living so happily here, eating so much of my favorite desserts and laughing as much as I want but my brothers and sisters there were starving?"
"Dear, what did you wish for this time?"
"For Palestine to be free," Mom smiled.
"Ouh. that's far too big for me to grant it. I'm not Shimon Peres or Benjamin Netahyahu. But don't worry. You know you'll always have Him, don't you?" She nodded.
"Then pray for it. Indeed, He's just too close to you. May Allah grant all wishes come from you, and bless your age. you, are my growing up daughter. Start to think further. Alhamdulillah,"
"Hey lil sis," She don't know from where did her sister appeared but she gave her a sheet of tissue paper.
"Aha! It's not for the tears. It's for the sake of this,"
And the battle of whipped cream begun.
Palestine,
Grow up.
Dear,
I want you to be freed.
Palestine,
Wish me for luck.
Dear,
In shaa Allah, He'll meet us.
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