Today, Papa told me to mengaji after solat-ing Maghrib. I intended to go blogging or play Mall World after finishing my solat. So I was pretty irritated that Papa told me what he wanted me to do. I said I'd rather read my English Quran than the original one in Arabic but no, I couldn't change his mind.
And when I read the first Surah (I was surprised that I could still remember how to read), I heard how melodious it sounded. How lovely and beautiful all the words sounded together. Even prettier than the best song on Earth.
Then I felt a lump in my throat. It was too perfect. I couldn't believe that I had wanted to escape from reading. My voice became a small bit shaky; you could hear it if you listen carefully. I was trying to get rid of the lump.
But no matter how had I tried, I could hear the unstability of my voice as I read the second, the third, up till the sixth and last Surah that I read.
Honestly, I felt guilty for denying the beauty of Islam. There it was, the truth was plain obvious. I could hear it for myself.
Alhamdullilah.
Also, we have to pray 5 times a day. Each time lasts less than 10 minutes long. That's only 50 minutes out of 24 hours. That's not too much. So why can't I fulfil that?
One year ago, Yai was still alive.
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