.بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I have a fairly new neighbour whom I haven’t spoken to before (yet, In Shaa Allah ). But my uncle and aunt had come round to my house recently, and my aunt went up to this neighbour of mine, in order to compliment her garden.

Beautiful flowers, arranged in a blossoming array of pretty pots.

My neighbour, who is maybe about seventy years old, was really happy, I think, upon having her garden being complimented. It’s that wonderful feeling, isn’t it: when you really care about something, and have maybe put quite a bit of effort into it, and when somebody kindly acknowledges that.

The lady actually decided to invite my uncle and aunt in. My aunt, as far as I know, really likes plants too. Orchids, and chilli plants, and flowers. In fact, there was a woman whom I had known for a brief while: I’d tutored her children.

And she’d reminded me quite a bit, of this aunt of mine. She used to make delicious snacks for me, like… pancakes with blueberry sauce. [It really seems to be a thing, across Muslim families and cultures: to lovingly present guests, and even builders and tutors and so on, with food and drink upon their arrival!]

And, also, in her goldenly-lit living room, what did I see? Plants, and plants, and plants. A blossoming array of them, making for something quite like… an indoor garden.

I think my uncle and aunt both really liked some aspects of the interior décor at my neighbour’s house, and so she said that she is going to teach them how to imitate a design or two, like a particular wall display she has, I think, in their own home, In Shaa Allah .

And then: they’d also noticed a Qur’an (a MusHaf) that this neighbour of mine had placed in a place that indicated how much she respects this Holy Book. A special, important place.

Well, it turns out: this neighbour of mine is an Egyptian Muslim, and her name is Layla.

Layla: an absolutely gorgeous name. And, in Arabic, it means: night.

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[Not to be weird (again. What’s new?) and use someone’s name as inspiration but…]

What’s beautiful about the night?

Generally: it’s peaceful. And calming. A great revealer of secrets. A remarkable reminder as to how mysterious this universe really is; how many things, the sheer magnitudes of things, that we have not yet found.

It’s like the whole world gets covered with a blanket of sorts.

And you can be silently contemplative, and/or poetic, and, overall, a lover. By day: out in the open, exposed and in motion.

By night: under… a blanket fort of sorts. It feels like security. Like the night is an open field that hides jewels, while the day has his flowers. And like:

the entire gorgeous universe is in churning motion, constantly, and like: right here, at this point in night: things are still.

And wherever there is darkness, uncertainty, and the depths of good night:

Let there be lamps, and good words, and candles. Love, and my beautiful religion: Let there be light.

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.وَءَايَةٌۭ لَّهُمُ ٱلَّيْلُ نَسْلَخُ مِنْهُ ٱلنَّهَارَ فَإِذَا هُم مُّظْلِمُونَ

“And a sign for them is the night,

We withdraw therefrom the day, and behold, they are in darkness.”

— Qur’an, (36:37).