Fasted Hearts: A Short Story

Somewhere, she would be retiring to bed at the end of a lonely night, taking along with her the last of the dawn-dissolving arc of the sacred moon that burned at her window all night; reminding of him and reflecting sharply from promises of love that their families left fasted in them forever.

At the same time, in his world, somewhere else, he would be awake - showered, dressed in new clothes and headed to the Salaat. Kneeled onto the mausoleum floor, his breath one with the holy enchants, he would be bending the lines on his outstretched palm; seeking her face behind his closed eyes and letting his faith take him to a place where everyone forbid.

To her. Through prayers and wishes. Crossing religious limits in love without calling for riots.

Isn’t love, after all, our honest potential to seek someone truly, every time we commit ourselves to the remembrance of God??

Eid Mubarak!!

- Sobhan