The chants in the Mosque
It’s been a while since we were able to walk around this city of ours. This city made of tall almighty buildings that seem as immortal as the heavens above. And in our quest, we found the special among the wonderful, a mosque that quietly stands among train stations, supermarkets and buildings.
I was standing there so focused on taking this picture that I didn't notice the giant standing in front of me.
He was coming closer, and I felt the sudden need to run as if I were a vulgar thief. But the giant told me I was welcome to come in. I tried refusing his invitation using my lack of veil as an excuse.
“There are veils upstairs. You are welcome to borrow one of them for the prayer,” he said, opening the door even more. I don't even remember how I stepped into the mosque, I just remember finding the veils and wrapping myself in one of them. The fabric caressed my skin and safety spread all over me as if Allah were telling me I was finally home.
I noticed people praying, and I silently got close to them trying to understand, but my understanding wasn't necessary because every fibre of my being vibrated to the chants that were resonating in the mosque.
The prayer finished, I returned the veil and promised to the kind giant to come back, and I will because God, Allah, is always waiting.
