by When the sea teaches us to laugh at ourselves and still cherish the dawn
A Sunday Whisper | Reflection 30
السَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللَّهِ وَبَرَكَاتُهُ
Ya Allah, You who spread the light of dawn across the horizon, let this morning enter our hearts like a fragrance carried by a breeze from paradise. Fill the air we breathe with health, fill the rhythm of our pulse with happiness, and fill the path of our day with wonder, with laughter, and with meaning. Protect our bodies from illness and our spirits from despair. May this day not be ordinary but happening, not fragile but strong, not heavy but full of energy and life.
About eleven years ago, I got a call from my friend Zubair. He had big news: “Bro, this weekend we’re all going to the sea. On a boat. With fresh seafood cooked right there on board.”
Now, I don’t know about you, but the words fresh seafood make me sign any contract without reading the fine print. Thank God they didn’t add the condition: “you only get to eat what you catch.” If that had been the deal, I would’ve returned home with nothing but seawater in my stomach. But since Allah provides from places we can’t even imagine, I was confident He would also keep an eye on my greedy appetite.
So I said yes, of course. Not just for the food, mind you, but also because it meant meeting all my friends. And when friends gather, it’s like strawberry icing on the cake. But here’s the thing: when there’s a gathering, I cannot resist showing off. It’s basically against my DNA to stay low-key.
So I went online and did some research. Turned out this magical rod was called a selfie stick. Honestly, if you gave one to a teacher in a government school, they’d probably bless you for such a high-tech stick, perfect for discipline, with adjustable length too. But no, the world had found a nobler use: taking pictures of one’s own face from awkward angles. I ordered it immediately.
Fast forward to the boat trip. The selfie stick was still brand new, untouched, untested. I had saved its grand debut for this very moment. With full swagger, I pulled it out, waved it in the air like I was about to knight someone, fixed my phone on top, gathered all my friends behind me, set the timer, and gave the order: “Cheese!”
The stick went up into the sky, the timer started its countdown, and for a glorious three seconds, I was the alpha male of the sea.
Then bam. The ocean decided otherwise. A wave slapped the boat, the boat tilted, I lost my balance, and the next thing I knew, I was sprawled across the deck like a sack of potatoes. The selfie stick flew from my hand, and my phone went with it.
Time slowed down. I watched in horror as my phone and selfie stick sailed through the air together like star-crossed lovers. But Allah is merciful. Their romance didn’t last. The phone landed safely on the deck, while the selfie stick plunged into the sea like a martyr, never to return.
So, where I had hoped for applause, I got sympathy. But honestly, sympathy isn’t so bad, especially when your phone survives. That day, my dignity drowned, my selfie stick drowned, but my phone lived. And in the end, isn’t that what really matters?
As for the rest of the boating adventure? That’s a story for another day. For now, please, out of respect for the late, great selfie stick, at least leave a like before you go.
And so, my friend, let us take this lesson into our morning: not everything will go as planned, but if the essential remains safe, life still smiles at us. May your morning be like the sunrise that paints the world without asking for permission. May your day be filled with the kind of joy that even the waves of fate cannot drown.
O Lord of beginnings and endings, grant us today strength for our bodies, peace for our minds, and sweetness for our hearts. Guard our health and bless our efforts. Let no sorrow crush our spirit, let no setback drown our hopes, let no loss take away the essence of what truly matters.
Good morning to you and may your day unfold with laughter, courage, and grace, like sunlight filling every forgotten corner of the earth.
With prayers and love,
Mani
Sunday, 17th August 2025