That was a dark night filled with the roars of the sky above

That was a dark night filled with the roars of the sky above. The bone chilling sounds of the thunderstorms were becoming more and more audible cuz of the particular silence of the night. The sound of the water drops hitting the window of her room and the specific petrichor that was going straight thorugh her nostrils and finally penetrating into her bones and veins forced her eyes to get opened wide. She rubbed her eyes, wore her slippers and ran towards the window of her room. She then moved the curtains away from the window that had become quite wet cuz of the heavy downpour. She, with a bright smile on her face, closed her eyes and inhaled the air to bless her lungs with the freshness of that night. She laughed at the fact that she was the only mental who could destroy her sleep during midnight just to see the rain outside her window. Ahhh.. the Pulviophile things! Suddenly the smile on her face turned into terror cuz of the frequent lightening and thuderstorms. That fear was not cuz of herself, that was cuz of the creatures outside her window. She started thinking about the last leaf striving not to get separated from its roots, the flowers getting parted from their parent flower pots and thrown away in the foreign lands, the dogs and cats running to find shelter, the birds...she remembered something from her school days... "Birds build their nests during spring to avoid unfavourable weather conditions" (The usual childhood cramming when we used to repeat the same sentence 100 times)...How smart. Isn't it? She then remembered something else that converted the expressions of admiration on her face to  realization.

 پرندے شجر کو سوکھتا دیکھ کر کہیں اور"

   آشیانہ بنا لیتے ہیں"

 (probably one of the lines her urdu teacher used to make her write in 'Ashaar ki tashreeh').

How innocent we were in our childood. Isn't it? Just cramming the things without realizing the depth of the meaning behind them. In the rememberance of her childhood, a sudden thought had blown her mind. She started naming the seasons one by one, Summer, Spring, Autumn, Winter. The four seasons. All these seasons belong to whom? She then started looking at the different branches of different trees, that were glittering cuz of mixed effect of rain and lightening, from her window. The same question arose in her mind. All these branches belong to whom? The answer was more vivid than anything in this whole world. All these things belong to the most Poweful, the Creator of this world and the world hereafter. "ALLAH". Just like birds we human beings change, our priorities change with the advancement of time, we are inclined towards the conditions more suitable for us. That's all natural. But wherever we go, the one who will always be with us is the Almighty. 

"ہر شجر، ہر موسم، سب حلات و واقعات، سب انسان ۔۔ ہر شے اللہ کی ہی ہے"۔ 

He is the only CONSTANT..! 

She covered the windows with the curtains and got back to her bed. She had learnt something new by the rainfall that night. That's why she had always loved the rain.