I was walking back into the room and found him bent over the small desk, reciting verses in Bayati with sadness pitch.

Thus, his sense of humankind is warned to struggle against sins.

"Why did you cry?" I asked.

" Cause of my voice," he answered.


" I adored myself."

"Are voice, sadness and happiness tied together in any way? If you are highly understanding, is it more likely that you’ll be more, or less happy, less sad?" I asked more.

But, there is an answer. His voice sounded from muscle of memory. Strucking into mournful of God's punisment.

No matters with his aging. He is still so capable and sure, glided over the tone of verses till the end of Surah.

An image of prophet coming down the aisle towards him in a stunning white dress filled his head, those same lovely hands holding a bouquet of the red roses.  He’d gathered for him from the Garden of Eden.

It had been looked as a simple wedding, but there are no groom and bridegroom. That’s what they’d wanted. 

Contrary with me, I am still handing my cup and looked into his eyes. 

While I tried this strange taste of coffee, he doesn' stop the reciting. Cause of him, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. This strange coffee. 

In my mind, if a child or adult somehow survived and grew up in the hell without any human contact, how “human” would they be without the influence of society and culture?

His hand still tingled where the image of prophet grabbed it. As they walked through the park with fresh drinks, a light drizzle began to fall into Kautsar pond.

They didn't pull out the umbrella. No need. They didn't pulled up the hood hunched to their shoulders. Just having smiles and rays.

I feel as a refugee with dust and they are good in the spiritual sense like prophet hood and revelation. Much grace and knowledge, truth and wisdom, mercy and goodness, mighty, spiritual power and insight. All good things. 

The sun started to shine again after blew up and bigger than ever, so hot. They pulled me down to sit on a bench near Kautsar Lake. They beamed down at me, and I could only gaze back adoringly and begging up.

"What?" they asked in smooth tone.

"No...." I responed without smiling.

It’s hard to see through the strong sunlight. I can’t tell from another, many boys or girls, many people with holly reciting. Where am I?

Not that it would matter, I still need a matter. Where am I ?

"If you could teach everyone in the world one concept, what concept would have the biggest positive impact on humanity?" I protested.

For some perspective at how emotionally isolated I was, I struggled with this sins for a drop of water. I never had to take tons of prayer.  

These shots of strange coffee that made me sick, tired, have hot flashes, body aches, and migraines for those years of my life. What kinds of coffee in my hand?

The emotional drain of every jelaous without fail seeing a single refreshment pond line which lined and bordered not by damn stick people like me. 

I couldn't breathe again. So hot and I wasn't free of so much dead weight. I was so, so tired to just not-have-them around. Where am I?

Feeling it was so much worse, I never looked back, and I was ok on my own. This stuck with a cup of strange coffee, rilex.

Sure, I crawled in to that pond every breathe, feeling ready to collapse at the end of the day. All situations are demanding, after all. But I was free..

But it wears on you.....you......you... and they gave my hand a gentle squeeze. 

“That’s why I played it for you.” Now it was  to cry.

"It is whiter than milk and sweeter than honey. Two pipes feed into it from Paradise, one of gold and the other of silver,” they explained, as same as I heard before.

"Whiter than snow, cooler than snow, sweeter than honey..."

They told me that the earth of its bed will be more fragrant than musk; the water jugs set at it will be as numerous as the stars in the sky.

"The one who drinks from it would never thirst; and the one who is deprived of it will never have his thirst satisfied," the preaching began.

“Know thyself!” is an ancient concept going back much further than Socrates and is at the root of much of philosophy. 

With that in my mind, so what are the most important things to learn about one’s self or is all self-knowledge equal?

Mastur fil ardh wa masyhur fi sama

Throughout this lessons, I carefully listened and wrote everything down I learned. In my mind.... there is no paper, pen or note book.

When the  class were slowly coming to an end, the outer attendees simply could not hide their curiosity any longer. But, there was no teacher, there was no student, no tables and chairs. Where am I?

When they finally asked ne why I was so interested in this pond. He gave the most inspiring beautiful reply:

They said, “You know, all partially lost and died because of thirsty!"

I am no longer able to apply their answer. I think they are absolutely beautiful, even more so without making up. 

I knows this and I tell them every single day. But the thing is this,… they simply feels not comfortable leaving me without water.

I feel sitting in mythology class, I tried hard to draw humans had four arms, four legs, and two faces, ten penises.

I tried to make fear, like Zeus split them into two, forcing an eternal search for their other half. 

Another drawing is like potrait when b I arrived at my house for our first date, I opened the door to my other half, dressed exactly like me, head to toe: no aviator googles, goretex boots, and  jacket. 

They just gave me amazed laughter, they said, “One of us has to change.” you must change  your clothes but not your mind. I knew we’d be together forever.

Suddenly, the air smelled strongly of fragrance. Like  boyfriend had asked her to meet him at the beach. 

But I dont love the beach. Today the Kautsar pond is look like the sea starting  breeze really wasn’t helping my curious. I grumbled as I made my way to the pond. 

I saw the light of candles in the distance, but couldn’t make them out, as I’d forgotten my glasses of coffee.

Why couldn’t  they have picked me to another place for dinner? 

"What? Dinner?"


" You no need it!"


"You are just thirty, not hungry."

I walked up to them and was about to open my mouth to complain, when they suddenly got down on their knee and said, “Will you eat me?”

I was thinking I’d be alone forever after a terrible time in this pond, when there they was. 

While I sat in the fresh air after about of flame of fire, look like a bronchitis, I stood watching the waves roll in the pond. They asked if I could sit next to them.

“Sure, why not?” I said. I watched and talked about which dog or cat breed was our favorite. 

We watched the sunset together.  I didn’t know it then, but I’d found my cup of coffee—or rather, they had found me. I insisted to make a war, a cup of coffee versus pond of Kautsar.