the fazr azaan cuts through the quiet dawn morning, and silences the band playing on a neighbor’s rooftop. they’ve been going at it all night long – the remains of a gaye holud/bachelor party somewhere in the neighborhood. i imagine a whole silent city of bloodshot eyes in the morning, silently cursing the intent revelry that’s kept everyone else up all night.
but i’m not up late because of the music. my almost hermetically sealed windows and the sound of the air conditioner have drowned them out quite well. i’m up late again – or is it early in the morning? – immersed in something else.
someone else.
my mind still resonates with her final murmurs and sighs as sleep envelopes her. i remember i didn’t wish her a good night, but she was already asleep before i could. but there are bigger things for me to worry about.
for as long as i can remember, it’s been my second nature to critically deconstruct everything i say and do, usually before i do it. but this time, i haven’t given myself the opportunity. and that makes me worry; after a near eternity of guarding my emotions so closely, i’m finally letting them take full rein and lead me on. but that scares me – what if i end up getting hurt again? after a lifetime of unrequited affection, what if this ends up following the same road? what if i end up doing something completely stupid and thereby lose the one person in a long time who’s managed to inspire and excite me enough to let my guard down long enough to actually feel alive, for once?
worrying about everything is possibly my quintessential characteristic. but right now, i can’t seem to concentrate on even these concerns. the promise of a brand new day and the prospect of hearing her voice again eclipse everything else.
the soft plucking of a guitar mixes with the final notes of the azaan. a soft imperceptible rain falls and distorts the flickering decorative lights from the wedding house. dhaka’s in the grips of another very late post-monsoon depression, and the light slowly coming off the eastern horizon reveals a sky scarred with clouds.
but, as the band strikes up again, i think that, this time, i’m going to be all right.