Bismillah…

Writing, at its core, is reaching beyond yourself, the quiet of your room, and the stillness that sits beside you like a familiar friend. It is the cradling of a thought, and feeling, delicate and unfinished, and tying a string around it, sending it out in hope and longing.It reminds me of the cup phones we made as children. Remember? Two paper cups, a string stretched taut between them.

You give one end to a friend and walk just far enough to wonder if your voice will still carry. Then you speak, gently at first, unsure if the words will travel. Unsure if they’ll land.But that’s the beauty of it. You’re not just sending out noise, you’re offering communion.

A whisper of self, stretched across space. And if the line holds, if your words vibrate just enough to stir something on the other side, they’ll know, as will you, and feel it. that pull, that presence. And so they lift their cup to their ear, not just to hear you, but to meet you. To listen in the way that matters: not just with the head, but with the heart present, engaged, accompanying you on this tale you’ve offered to tell, not just as an audience but witnesses and contributors too.

That is writing. Feels every bit like a shout into the void, but with a quiet hope that someone, somewhere, is holding the other end. Ready. Willing. Listening. Picking up the cup to hold to their ear, because a connection has been asked for, and a communion’s about to be established, where the string knotted through two cups is really a string between two human hearts, tugging gently, and even more beautiful, not only is the writer heard, the reader is seen too - Here, the thought is completed, finished, having transcended into something more… something wholesome, lasting, a fleeting thought made into an eternal bond.

Assalamu alaikum