Mornings connote freshness- they represent bright starts and new beginnings. We look forward to them as they bring light, hope and enthusiasm to our lives. But then there are mornings that bring dread and angst with the awakening of the self-proclaimed unfortunate. When dreams gets shattered under the weight of reality and ideals are thrown out of the window by pragmatism. Mornings, when staying in bed means much more than just a few more moments of comfort. It’s hard to believe that the universe is still intact despite our prayers of its overnight culmination the previous night. Why did this morning come? Could our waking up actually be the beginning of a dream? How we wish it was!
Our fears stare us in the eyes and wish us good morning with all the sarcasm in the world almost mocking us without any pretense. We hide our apprehensions temporarily behind the alarm clock but that doesn’t last long either. And with a bugle call that almost signifies the commencement of our battle with our fears, we are forced- almost involuntarily pushed out into the battlefield. There’s no hiding now. The enemy must be confronted and this clash will not end before one of the warriors concedes defeat.
Some of us are so scared already that they do not want wounds to be taken along with them to the heavens and they raise the white flag anticipating a less painful death. Others use their armor of will almost out of compulsion like a cornered tiger and look their fears in the eye. They fight, bleed, and cry but they do not concede. Pain isn’t pain anymore and even though they have read the writing on the wall they refuse to die with the regret of not emptying the chamber at the enemy first.
For mornings like these, darkness brings peace. It’s an arduous journey towards the night- a night where refuge is on the offering and where reality takes a break.
Hammad A. Mateen