It was night time but everything seemed to glow with an inner light. The moon was new and things still seemed to be radiant somehow. I was with two good friends and they were already far ahead of me. We had just come from where they lived. I chugged along behind them in the power-chair and heard their voices laughing in the muffled dark glow of night.
We came to a lake of indeterminate proportions, although I could easily see most of the other bank. The lake was fed by a river and also drained by the same river and the water in it only appeared still because it was so much wider than the river that fed it. It glowed a soft golden hue…like the colour of a beautiful eye splashed on the landscape.
Only the big cats have eyes that hue.
I saw their silhouettes bobbing in the wavelets and left the chair a few yards from the edge and started into the lovely inland pool of a the golden glowing night. The trees around us also glowed greenish gold. The sparkles of light, bouncing from the wavelets, seemed almost solid like mercury and the water felt lighter than normal water somehow.
The slap and splash of voices from the distant edge, opposite my entry point, told me they had made it to the other shore. I waded into the water on a lovely gradient incline covered with glowing golden moss flecked with green. The dark power of the night rose within my heart and the stars laughed with me and I smiled as I started to swim, and with shock found I swam like some champion I never have been. The feel of the water sluicing over my back and the small dent my head made in the liquid gold as I leapt like a dolphin across the expanse of water, reveling in the feel of speed and motion and the tickle of water droplets hitting my chin. The long, lightweight swimming gown barely seemed present in the watery golden spray.
I knew I was in a dream but loved the dream and so expanded it and decided to leave the water and explore the shore line. Swimming against the slow current I went a short ways upstream, angling for the faint goblin glow of the shore-line, and crawled out expecting my legs to fail me and finding, with joy, I was running!
Like the wind I ran into the night and the glowing trees and the smell of pepper mixed with roses and ate the beautiful darkness with all that my eyes could hold and shovel into my hedonistic soul. I stopped in the tall-grass and let the sky cover me with star-light.
“I wonder where you go.”
I turned and there was my beloved friend of many years. We had never made unkept promises. We had never lied to each other. He had been the last person on my mind before I slept after Fajr, having stayed up for an English project most of the night.
He really was beautiful. Not beautiful in the way all youth is beautiful, but more mature looking somehow and not beautiful in the classic sense of that word either but, somehow, MORE beautiful than all of those images we are shown that tell us what it means to be lovely.
“You are alone. Where did our friend go?”
He shrugged and smiled. He turned and I followed him back to the lake, taking the long long strides of an experienced hiker, and watched as the flap of his still-wet shirt floated upon the shimmering surface of the water as the slight current drug it sideways and his feet pushed away from a steeper bank. He turned, treading water, and smiled and his smile glowed like his cat eyes and the water dropped, like silver mercury, down the beard on his chest. He motioned to me and I waded in and pushed away from the sudden drop off on that side and we looked at each other, grinning, treading water…
“You are going to stay with me. You have to learn to act like a Pakistani woman.”
It was an order…but then I never was able to ever deny him anything.
“Bbbbbzzzzttttttt!!!!!! PING Bbbbbbbzzzztttttt!!!!!!! PING Bbzzzzzztttttttt!!!!!! PING”
My alarm woke me.
I had an awful headache.
He was gone. Again.