Mahtab looked out of the window at the moon clearing the rooftops, bathing everything around in its silver light. She sighed, envying Nasim’s freedom. For just like Mahtab’s namesake, as the moonlight was beholden to the sun, she was beholden to her family.
Whoever designed this city built it to complement the setting sun as perfectly as the stars complement the night.
The Sun can be your greatest gloom, or your greatest comforter, depending on how you view its shine.
I rise from the moist crevice of thought,
I beat on the shores of her holy body,
I fall from the sky in silver sheets of sadness.
Rise onto me my precious sun.
The Sun will rise and set regardless. What we choose to do with the light while it’s here is up to us. Journey wisely.
I am the sun who will bring delight when you are in-front of me. I am the moon who will show shyness when you are away from me.
How not to miss those days when the sun was a happy companion that stayed to play all year round and kissed me a careless nut brown? When Mother caught the sweet rain in her well behind the house, and the air was so clear that the grass smelled green?
This is the life you’re living. It’s not temporary and it’s not pretend and there’s no do-over.
“What about your family, Abu Huwa? Are you an orphan?
Fail as fast as you can as much as you can and then you will know what Success is.