trianaramadhona

Two buttons fell off from my shirt earlier last week. Maybe it was just wear and tear, or maybe it was the universe's quiet way of saying, "Hey, slow down. Let me tell you something." I almost brushed it off, but it lingered. They say it's a bad sign when things fall apart, but I don't quite believe that. Maybe it's just life showing us what needs attention. There's something about things coming undone that mirrors the small unraveling we sometimes feel inside; subtle, inconvenient, but honest. That not everything has to stay perfectly held together all the time. So later at the end of the week, I sat down, found a needle, took a thread and started sewing them back. One slow loop after another. The kind of small act that steadies my breathing without I even noticing. The kind that reminds me how repair can be a form of prayer. And somewhere in between the stitches, it felt like something in me realigned too. A quiet knowing that not everythi...

This morning, waking up for Fajr felt like a storm of emotions. I am in a phase of my life where I kept trying to woo Allah for this one thing, slipping through the tahajjud lane, hoping my late-night whispers would reach Him first. But last night I just came home from a music festival at midnight and didn’t fall asleep until 2 a.m. So yes, I overslept a little. Alhamdulillah, Allah gave me the strength to woke up for Fajr, not exactly on time, but still before sunrise. I got up, began to pray. I prayed for quite long in my last sujood. The theme of my prayer was still the same; the same plea, the same name, the same longing. Yet this morning, something shifted. It wasn’t about insisting anymore. It was about releasing. About asking for spaciousness in my heart, for patience that stretches further. Maybe it was the fatigue from the last night, or maybe something in me was simply ready to let go. After my pray, I thought of going back to sleep, was so sleepy I could barely keep my eyes ...