I accidentally found an old folder on my laptop. It contained some notes. I didn’t know what the trigger until I opened and read it again. At the Faculty of Social and Politics at that time. When the people in front of me solemnly touched their forehead to the mosque floor.
As the sun was about to go down. When the rain came, right here, falling down on March 27, 2012. Like a merry-go-round, my head spinning. Faster and faster, making me nauseous.
One by one sentence, one paragraph after another, one by one the poem verses, as one by one the teardrops falling. Something recorded again, in my head. Realizing that the world was so small when I remembered the past. Memory in time of a routine hardening the heart wall.
Soon, call to prayer echoed, casting out the shadows.