Soul of lights

In the peaceful area of Johar Town, Lahore, lived a girl named Rooh. She was only 18 years old. Quiet by nature, thoughtful, and deeply empathetic, she felt other people’s emotions silently. She was like any ordinary girl — she didn’t speak at every chance, nor did she try to solve everyone’s problems. She just listened… and then talked to Allah in her heart. It was five in the morning. The city was still silent, but Rooh was awake. As every day, her eyes opened a little before the call to prayer. She got up quietly, performed ablution, and began her prayer calmly. After the prayer, she sat there for a while. Like every morning, she spoke to Allah in silence — in her own way, in her own style. By 7:10, Rooh was ready and went to the kitchen for breakfast. Everyone was sitting at the dining table, and her mother was serving tea. Rooh: "Good morning, Mom." Mom (hastily): "Where is everyone else? Hurry and call them, or they’ll be late." Rooh (softly): "Mom, I did call… but no one is listening." At that moment, her cousin Preza spoke loudly: Preza: "Good morning!" (as if deliberately loud) Rooh: "Mom, can I help with anything?" Mom (quickly): "No dear, just have your breakfast and go to college." Rooh (quietly): "Okay, fine." Then her father spoke in a loud voice: Dad: "Where are my keys and bag? Do I have to find everything myself?" And Murad (her younger brother) said: "Mom, the same breakfast again? Can’t we have something else?" Mom (tiredly): "Eat what’s there. Stop complaining and get ready to leave." Rooh listened to everyone quietly. She said nothing — just thought to herself: "Even in such a small life, everyone wants something more… desire never ends." Then she took a small chocolate from her bag and gave it to Murad — perhaps it would lift his mood. Rooh: "Mom, I’m leaving. Allah Hafiz." Mom: "Allah Hafiz, don’t be late." Rooh’s college was ten minutes away from her home. She usually went with her friend Rimsha. They went together and sat together in class. Rooh was good at studies, while Rimsha wasn’t as strong — but this difference never came between their friendship. On her way to college, Rooh used to see a little boy — around 8 or 9 years old. He sold flowers by the roadside. His lips trembled in the cold, but a smile remained on his face. Rooh thought quietly: "I wish I could do something. Oh Allah, please find a way so this child can live like other children." Ahead, a man was talking loudly on the phone: "I don’t want this car, I need another one in ten minutes!" Rooh watched him carefully too… How strange it was — someone with everything still felt it wasn’t enough, while someone with nothing still smiled.