Love

You know who can talk about Pokémon for five hours?

Leila can talk about Pokémon for five hours.

(She doesn’t, of course; but she could, if she really wanted to. Which she doesn’t.)

The semester begins, the snow blankets the East Coast (and blankets it, and blankets it, and blankets it again), and it is February. It is February, and it’s the month of red paper hearts and of cheap, discounted chocolate, but it is, of course, also the month of love; love for her sisters, love for her siblings, love for her parents, love for the African-Americans that are her modern day Ansarand most importantly, love for Ar-Rahman, Al-Ghaniyy, and Al-Wadud. On the fourteenth, she has not one, but seven dates: five of them are salaah, and she has to spit out the last two because her dad bought them unpitted.

Her last du’a of the day is simple: “Ignite in me a love for You as You love me.”

But that’s a part of her du’a every day; Aphrodite and Eros are a myth. The God of love is the God of everything else, too, 24/7/365.

(And God has more names than all the Pokémon combinedyeah, that includes Gen 6so five hours? Try five lifetimes, and then some).

Featured Image © Mohammad Alagha

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