Why?

Hues of red and gold flames danced across the sky, stretching far and wide to welcome the night. They were fresh colors, graffitied by whatever impeccable artist had created the sky to use as their canvass. It resembled the shade of orange in the tangerines I had just before my morning class- so bold and radiant, announcing the end of the day.

The sunset was beautiful and i watched it everyday.

“What is the most important question in the world?”, he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

From the corner of my eye, I glanced at him. His eyes scanned the physics textbook lying on the table in front of him and then he turned to the next page, his lips were pressed together into a thin line. 

“Do we pour milk first-”, I asked, “-or cereal first?”

He chuckled, “I suppose that is quite important”, he looked up at me, “as all questions are”

We heard a loud “ssshh” and turned to see the librarian- a stern look on her face. Behind large framed glasses, her eyes darkened as she glared at us, before walking away.

“She won’t be back for a while”, I said. The library was huge and the tall woman had just enough strength to walk around it and catch unsuspecting students breaking the rules.

I turned back to the large window again and noticed the clouds outside getting darker. Thunderstorms roared in the distance. I sighed. The sunset was gone. I inhaled deeply. Somehow, the scent of the incoming drizzle had made its way into the library and for only a second, I was in bed, under a blanket, my face visible thanks to the light coming from my laptop.

I exhaled and the vision was gone.

“Have you ever wondered why we can’t talk in the library?”, he asked and I faced him.

“Because it’s a place for reading”, I held up a textbook as though I were making a big point, “and talking would be distracting for yourself and others”

“That’s a good answer”, he closed the textbook, “if I didn’t already know it, now I do”, he said, “you gave me that answer because?”

I cocked my head at him. He was getting at something. He was always getting at something.

“You asked why we-”

“I asked why”, he leaned back into his chair and opened the book again, “and I think that’s the most important question in the world”

“Why?”

“Why”, he nodded as he read, “because if we don’t ask why, we would never invite alternatives. We would always settle for answers when we could know so much more”, he explained, “all questions are important but I think ‘why?’ is the most important of all”

The drizzle turned into a heavy downpour, but the windows were closed, the doors were closed, and so the rain sounded like it was happening far away, somewhere in the distance.

“I read about a woman this week”, I said, “a special woman”

“Are all women not special?”

I rolled my eyes, “just let me tell you about this woman”

He didn’t look up from his book but I could see a smile playing on his lips, “okay”

“Rabia of Basra was a Sufi mystic who was completely devoted to receiving love from God and giving to him as well. She believed the loving worshipper on earth should become one with the beloved”

He looked up at me, “Rabia of Basra seemed to have figured out a whole lot more than the religious fanatics we have today”

I chuckled, “you’re right”, I said, “you always said that the systems of the world run on fear- that religion, education, and everything else runs on some form of fear that has been instilled into the hearts of the people”

“And I still believe so”

“Well, one day, Rabia prayed to God and she asked him to burn her in hell if she worshipped him because of her fear of hell, and deny her entry into Paradise if she worshipped him because she wanted to go to Paradise, but to continue to love and show her his eternal beauty if she worshipped him for him alone”

He took a deep breath, “Rabia hacked the system. She understood that fear was all the people had”

“I don’t think so”

He leaned in, placing his elbows on the table, and smiled, “why?”

I smiled, “because Rabia was right but the people aren’t so wrong either”, I rose a finger, “let me explain further. In an anecdote, it’s said that one day, Rabia grabbed a bucket of water and a pot of fire and started to run along the streets of Basra”

He rose one brow and leaned away, “this should be interesting”

I nodded, “she was seen and so she was asked what she was doing. She said she was going to use the bucket of water to put out the fires in hell and use the pot of fire to burn down the gate to paradise so that she and the people who worship Allah would do so not because of fear of punishment or the reward they want, but because they love him, and that’s enough”

He laughed, out loud. For a moment, I was scared the librarian would come back.

“You were right”, he said, “she was a special woman”

“The world isn’t run on just fear. There are promises”

“Fear and promise", he smiled, “the systems of the world instill fear into the people”

“You will not succeed if you don’t get an education”

“You will burn for eternity if you sin”

“You will not make money if you don’t work hard”

“If you look at it, they’re all somewhat true”, he said, “there’s just a lot of emphasis on them”

“But if that emphasis is not made, then there will be no promises of success, heaven, paradise, increased salaries and big houses in nice estates to string people along"

“I think it sucks”

“I think so too”

“But do you know why we’re in this library right now?”, he asked.

“To study”, I said and waited for a response but when he gave none, I added, “so we can pass our exams”

"Do you think the studying will be enough", he asked, "do you think all the things the people do to get what they've been promised will ever be enough"

"No", I answered, "and that's why we can only hope they are"

“Fear, promise and hope”, he said, “promises are only promises. They can easily fail, but for the people, they hope to cope with that possibility”, he added.

The rain from outside, could not be heard again. He turned back to his physics textbook, “That is why there is still good out there, because people are scared but they still hope for better”, he said, “there is always hope”

I looked outside the window again. Would i see the sunset again? I feared. Even though, with each orange streak that ran across the sky, it promised to return the next day. I could only hope as he had said.

There's always hope.