بسْمِ ٱللَّٰهِ ٱلرَّحْمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ
In The Name Of Allah, The Most Beneficent, The Most Merciful

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

Nostalgic; that's all he feels.

The young man strides slowly behind his bandmate under the night sky. The chilly air swirls around him, teasing him with glimpses of memories he thought he had long forgotten. It riles up his emotions. It irks Kyle Lee Vincent because the said man is unable to put his finger and solve the mystery.

He lowers his head. The dusky sky smiles at him, watching his bangs poking his lens. The devastated man, then with a weary sigh, pulls back his hair and slides the hood over his hair. He adjusts his mask, and his perceptive gaze scans the crowd.

Kyle used to think only Wafa, and he was crazy enough to stop by an archaeological site in the middle of the night, but after watching the mass of people ambling to Hagia Sophia, he now thinks otherwise. And judging by the content visages of people, Kyle is certain they are not insomniacs like them.

The air again tingles his skin and giggles at his restlessness. The leaves rustle, and the ones laid on the concrete tiles aimlessly crunch under their shoes. The duo stops a meter or two away from the gate, eyeing the architecture. The brick walls stand proudly in the dead of night, and riveted iron gates are all in their glory. Had it not been for the few light poles, this place at this time with little to no people would've been intimidating for him — in a haunting way.

"Are you sure this is the right entrance?" He quizzically looks at the girl standing in front of him. Her back faces him.

Wafa bites the inside of her cheeks. She looks down at her phone and then scrutinizes the area and the people.

"I think so. That's where everyone is going." She replies with doubt lacing her words.

And at her statement, the vocalist gets baffled.

"What the @#.."

"HEY!"

With the speed of the thunderbolt, Wafa snaps her head to him and places her palm over his lips.

The only thing? Air is sandwiched in between their contact.

The young man eyes the stretched-out palm a few centimeters away from his mask, and then his gaze slowly travels to hers. Their eyes meet just like that nostalgia again rains on his form, and goosebumps arise on his skin. His eyes drink her veiled form.

Something like this happened-- before, right? His mind ponders over and over again.

Kyle looks directly into her eyes intensely, trying to decipher what is it that caused such restlessness inside of him, oblivious to the abnormal beating of her heart. Wafa steps back from him and quickly averts her eyes, feeling uncomfortable being a hostage under his penetrating gaze.

"Umm-- I...I'm sorry." Wafa says, completely looking elsewhere but at him, fidgeting her fingers subconsciously. "It's just-- It's a sacred place, you know. It's disrespectful if you curse like that."

She glances at him for a second then turns away, finding him stilled and-- his eyes lingering at her. Her heart thumps uncomfortably. Her conscience scolds her for reacting without thinking. The maiden strolls a few steps away from him.

What's wrong with him? She ponders. Akhir meri bhi tou sirf ankhein hi nazar a rahi hain. Shayid isi wajah se he's looking soo deeply into them.

(after all, only my eyes are seen)(perhaps that is why he's looking soo deeply in them)

Noticing the change in her demeanor, Kyle snaps out of his thoughts. His cheeks color out of embarrassment. But he is grateful that the darkness of the night and the covering over his face can conceal the flustering fact.

"Apologies. It didn't cross my mind. It's just---" He rubs the back of his neck. "something is bothering me fo--"

"ٱللَّٰهُ أَكْبَرُ"

(God is the Greatest, God is the Greatest)

His tongue comes to a halt as a mellifluous voice echoes through loudspeakers and hits his eardrums. Instantly, Kyle looks up with widened eyes. He questionably then turns his attention to his bandmate, finding her gleaming in joy as she looks inside the iron gates.

Is it the same thing again? The a..adhan?

On the way to the Blue Masjid, he heard someone with such a soothing voice chanting melodiously words he never heard before. It hit straight to his heart. A smile took place on his lips as his interest peeped. Of course, as a singer himself, his brain was highly alert to something that demanded his full attention.

And when the recitor was finished, he turned to Wafa and inquired about this unusuality. Someone chanting in the middle of the night, that too reached miles away?

Even he wasn't allowed to do without the consent of the public head.

Like always, cheerfully, his bandmate explained to him that it is called the adhan, the call to prayer. And it is done five times a day at its respective times as one was right now.

"Kyler!" Wafa calls out to him, her eyes beaming with delight. "Let's go inside. This is the right way!" She points at the iron gates.

"أَشْهَدُ أَن لَّا إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا ٱللَّٰهُ"

(I bear witness that there is none worthy of worship except Allah)

Unable to hold her excitement within her for much longer, Wafa practically runs inside, leaving a confused man to follow her behind, careful not to hit anyone accidentally. He doesn't want to offend again.

As he enters from the gates, a brightly lit golden-domed-shaped ceiling welcomes his sight, and a hallway, which is bustling with men, women, surprisingly children, too, and shoes.

Shoes? Do they all take off their shoes? The vocalist wonders with a tilt of his head.

"Wafa? Do we have to take off our shoes?"

"أَشْهَدُ أَنَّ مُحَمَّدًا رَسُولُ ٱللَّٰهِ"

(I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah)

Hearing no response, Kyle looks to his right, then snaps his head to his left, finding no traces of a five-foot-two-inch girl who was accompanying him earlier.

Attempting to stay calm, Kyle again scans the area.

How the heck am I going to find her?! NEARLY HALF THE WOMEN HERE ARE DRESSED IN BLACK LONG GOWNS! A voice in his head screams, and he clenches his jaw.

His sight falls on the series of more iron gates.

Could she have gone inside without m--

But he was under the constant scrutinizing of his bandmate.

"KYLER!"

Kyle turns to the source calling his name, finding the same girl mornonically waving her hand at him, submerged by the mass of people, standing next to one of the shoe stands. And just one thing crosses his mind: She is short. The vocalist shakes his head dryly and begins walking up to her.

"Come on, hurry up! Take off of your shoes and put them on this rack next to mine!"

"حَيَّ عَلَى ٱلصَّلَاةِ حَيَّ عَلَى ٱلْفَلَاحِ"

And he does so exactly as instructed-- again. The rug slightly pokes his feet, but he doesn't mind it.

"I love this part so much! Do you know what Hayya alas-Salah Hayya 'alal-Falah means?" The vocalist in black shawl chirps.

"Hate to break it to you, but I don't have a master's degree in Arabic. So, no." The midnight-haired man sasses. "I don't know."

"ٱللَّٰهُ أَكْبَرُ ٱللَّٰهُ أَكْبَرُ"

(God is the Greatest, God is the Greatest)

"It means Come to Prayer, Come to Success!" Drowning his sassiness with her spiritedness, she tells him while quickly striding inside the nearby iron gates.

The vocalist narrows his eyes, not sailing in the same boat as hers. How come prayer brings success? It is the strength of the man that does so. How can a man of strength and hard work be the same as a weak and sluggish one? He counters himself.

Yet, what he is forgetting is that even the most hard-working men are sometimes in bits of depression upon their failures. They get what was Decreed for them, neither tipping the scale by a single grain nor lessening by a single grain in what was prescribed for them. And for the believers, prayer is indeed the weapon that can change their fates, and bring them from darkness into light by the Will of the Lord of the Great Throne.

"لَا إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا ٱللَّٰهُ"

(There is none worthy of worship except Allah)

They enter the main hall, and the sight steals their breath away. The golden light pendants dangle from the massive ceiling which is enclosed like a dome. Several circular-shaped iron roundels having written the name of God, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), and the Khulafa-e-Rashideen in prepossessing Arabic calligraphy are placed against the walls at a distance.

(The Rightly Guided Successors)

Both the vocalists are awestruck by the enchanting beauty this place possesses. They look around, drinking every single detail they can muster. It is like entering a castle hall with historic architecture along with a tinge of modernism that overlaps it.

And Kyle loves history.

The vocalist in a black gown clicks her fingers in front of Vincent's eyes. "Vincent, prayer is going to start. If you like, you can go outside and explore a little; just remember to keep your phone on. I will go find the women's area to pray."

Without even waiting for his reply, Wafa goes for her search. And true for what she has said, when the black-haired man looks around, he finds men beginning to stand in rows.

Kyle turns around to leave the prayer hall, but when he looks at the gates as more and more people are entering in a clustered manner, the vocalist changes his mind as fear of her getting separated from him hits his chest.

He doesn't want either of them to be lost in a foreign place of a foreign country.

Instead, the midnight-haired man decides to sit by one of the pillars, so he acts upon his idea and goes a little further away from the prayer area. With his back inclined to the marble pillar as the coldness from it penetrates his shirt and grazes his skin, Kyle plops himself down on the ground, his knees apart and elbows on either of them whilst his arms crossed; the vocalist rests his head over his arms and lazily stares ahead, admiring the golden designs and the architect, until the imam begins to recite Surah Fatiha which clasp his attention.

(the one leading the prayer)

His eyelids droop as the melodious voice recites with such eloquence that it feels as if his tense muscles are being cradled with gentleness, adding more mass to the cloud of tranquility over his head. His chest smoothly heaves and falls as each breath he takes brings peace and more peace to his heart.

So beautiful. But what is he reciting, and what does it mean? As a soft knock of sleep lulls his senses, he last glances at the men standing straight in rows, something blossoms in his chest and all he can think is beautiful before his soul leaves his body whilst a ghost of a smile appears on his lips.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

| QUR'ANIC VERSE |

˹It is˺ Allah ˹Who˺ calls back the souls ˹of people˺ upon their death as well as ˹the souls˺ of the living during their sleep. Then He keeps those for whom He has ordained death, and releases the others until ˹their˺ appointed time. Surely in this are signs for people who reflect.

-Surah Zumar

| AUTHOR'S NOTE |

Cinnamon rolls, anyone?

- W A L I Y A H