One day, a woman in black hijab approached me. Now that I think about it, she was quite beautiful, with thick lashes lined with kohl, she had big eyes no doubt, and full lips. She had high cheek bones and her features are proportionate and placed perfectly on her face. Fair skinned, dark eyes, she looks like a typical middle-eastern woman. I seem to find most of them beautiful anyway. Her hair was high and tied back and could be seen peeking between her forehead and the hijab.
She then approached me and told me she wanted to buy the Quran. I asked her, what for? She said she is a collector and she loves collecting beautiful Qurans. I told her to give me time to think about it. And went away.
Later, I caught her touching the Quran. I reprimanded her, Have you taken your ablution? She said yes. I told her the Quran is only for display purposes. She asked me again if she could have it.
"Name any price. I'll write you a cheque. You could use the money to do anything you want. Renovate the wall. Build a museum. Anything. Any price."
I asked her again, what would you do with it?
"I would display it in my home of course," she said wistfully," among other beautiful things, where people who know how to appreciate it, like me, can appreciate its beauty to the fullest extent."
"But isn't it of more good here? Where more people can see and appreciate its beauty?" I argued.
"Ah, but what use is it, if they don't really know how to appreciate it? All they do is look and see a pretty designed Quran. Can I touch it?" she never took her eyes off the Quran.
I said no.
"What you lust after is material beauty. You want it because of its beautiful cover. The beauty of the Quran is not in its cover. It is in Allah's words. Thus, all Qurans are beautiful. For this reason, I cannot sell you the Quran. It will remain on this wall for everyone to appreciate it equally," I said.
She closed her eyes and nodded her head, I understand.
And left.
I woke up to my mum telling me to drink some soya-milk because I had been very ill the night before and I need food in my system. I find it pretty scary that I dreamt this in the month of Ramadhan. And more so, that I had even said those words in my dream. I tried to re-enact it the best I could BUT TRUST ME I sounded deeper and wiser in my dream. In reality I could never have come up with words like that. The phrasings are so... old-school. And peculiar. Come on man, I'm too hip to talk like that. OK, freaky period over. I'll tell you about my other dreams another time.
Labels: Dreams, Elle, Morning Madness, Religion, The Queen, Weird Shiz
