Islamic Calendar

"Ya Rasulullah what are these gardens of Jannah"
"They are gatherings that remind us of Allah"

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

This is for Ajwad..

Dear friends this will be my first paragraph of my novel..please read and comment.thanks..

“To foresee the future of a generation, look at its teenagers now.”
Yusuf al-Qardhawi
"A strong generation shows a strong future, a wise generation fulfills a wise future, a respected generation promises a respectful future."

Pitch black. That is the only description compatible enough to elucidate the state he was in as he flailed his groping hands, stretched out to the infinite distance that could only be predicted by his ambiguous instincts. His steady stride was evident of the long journey he had endured, coordinated only by the tug directing him deep in his heart. The light. Get to the light. The darkness was an undefined stretch, but experience taught him to never judge by what is unimaginable so he maintained his head straight, eyeing explicitly for the tiniest signs of light, and for the man. Yes, the old man he had known too well, standing beyond the door, offering his rough hand to liberate him from the sinister shadows. But ‘this time’ he could feel that things would turn up completely different. Either the journey was too long, maybe too far, or just a bit chillier than last time, but surely something was totally wrong and he could feel it tingling in his nerves. He was supposed to see the light by now, not a bright white flash, but just a dimming glow, sufficient to catch the attention of even the weakest sight, but either his eyes were weaker than that, or it just wasn’t there. Though instincts convinced him that it would come in view, sooner or later, his confidence weren’t. The blind remoteness surrounding his senses had totally deceived his hopes. He finally stopped, turning his head side to side, displaying so much of his desperateness to see the light. No light, no escape. He never considered being trapped as a logical possibility, since he had never experienced it, but the situation now drove his mind to contemplate about the consequences of it occurring and nothing else than it. Then it suddenly hit him, and it hit so hard that he fell, slumping his feeble body on the bare ground, sweeping the invisible dust as he curled up. Could this really be his end? Coma? Death? His desperateness had reached its limit, surpassing the confidence he had built throughout the multiple times he endured the similar course. Reckless tears gathered in his right eye trickled horizontally, pulled by the gravity pressing his face onto the floor, crossing the nose and running straight into his left eye, adding to the flow of tears already dripping onto the floor.


  1. what's this supposed to be? an autobiography? i wrote about this dark-light theme a long long time ago. though wholly in a different context.

    lol. how vague.

  2. haha..
    well actually i was planning on writing a novel actually..not an autobiography.but please, im an amateur..your comments are my encouragements.

    It is supposed to be about a man lost in his dreams..

  3. nice intro..keep writing..thanks..hehe