Stealing Into the Theater

The last uncles had left the masjid for their homes after Fajr prayer, and it was still dark when I set out this morning. My eyes scanned the sky continually in the silent minutes before the sun’s advent upon earth. I set out of my apartment building and out of the street so I could find a proper view of the Eastern horizon; I knew where to go, the main playground next to the neighborhood masjid.

Sky tinged with pink, as I made my way to the main ground.

 In the cover of darkness, I silently walked and set out for the ground. A very faint streak of pink tinged the sky to the east. Something was different in the air, a sense of calmness and peace lingered as I entered the sand and gravel-strewn field. In the dying cover of darkness, I concealed myself from the Watchers of the Night and the Guardians of the Day. The place was deserted… On the road behind me and the ground in front of me, not a soul was in sight. The only figures I could make out were a few people in the Masjid courtyard far to my right.

Like a street urchin who has stolen into a theater where he isn’t supposed to be, I stood in the shade of darkness and waited for the show to begin. The serenity grew paramount as all spotlights focused on the horizon, the curtains were about to be raised. Like a lost child discovering a wonder for the first time, I steeled myself for the change of guard. The Guardians of the Day had already made the first move, with the ever so slight hue of pink visible just above the horizon. The Watchers of the Night slowly complied, exposing the underbellies of the clouds to the pink radiance. Even though the Watchers still kept control of the dark sky, they entrusted the clouds to the care of the Guardians first. The transition was sublime, the clouds coming to life, waking up from their slumber at the guardians’ touch. The touch of pink spread to clouds who rested further from the dark horizon, and the streak of pink in the sky started to increase.

Just before dawn... the view to the East beyond the neighborhood Masjid.

Glued to his spot on the edge of the field, the street urchin watched. The fear of being caught by the performers was not important; all eyes were fixed on the stage as the action unfolded. The Watchers had started to withdraw from their shift; the darkness was giving way to the blue of the sky I knew all too well. My awe-struck eyes scanned the stage, afraid that I might miss something… then I discovered a star, a diamond shining bright in the Watchers’ armor. As they slowly loosened their grasp on the sky, I kept my eyes fixed on the jewel in their armor… I wanted to watch them hand it over to the guardians. Ever so gracefully, I watched as the performers went about their change of shifts; it was a moment of pure tranquility as I watched the diamond being presented to the Guardians… the spreading blue overwhelming the Watchers’ cover, the star fading into the cosmos.

The Guardians were now really starting to turn up their stride, this was clearly their show. The serenity and peace now gave way to some sweet music. I heard one note from behind me, an unknown bird calling into the dawn… a few moments passed, the Guardians gave a fresh signal to the stage orchestra, another note followed from somewhere to my left. The Watchers had now completed their handover of the clouds to the guardians… Little swirls of grey, they stretched themselves awake in the pink of the dawn.

Look closely... a flock of birds above the minaret is visible.

The Guardians’ influence now started to spread beyond the stage that was the horizon. Black silhouettes with wings darted across the sky now, speeding to the Guardians who had now begun to stretch their dominance across the heavens. The pink had faded to a stronger gold; the Watchers were retreating now, their duty complete. The darkness only remained part of the skies further from the horizon, all melting away as the guardians prepared for the eminent arrival… the rise of the sun. In a final ritual, the Guardians summoned their orchestra players on stage for a final crescendo. The birds rose high in the sky, circling above the Masjid minaret… their black silhouettes visible against the pale, early morning skies.

A crow’s loud caw brought my eyes back to earth. Two or three of them swooped over my head, and I looked around me, startled. It had become bright, the darkness had all but faded and the Watchers had departed. Caww! went the crows again… My cover had been blown. The Guardians had discovered the street urchin who had stolen into the theater and were forcing me to leave. The show was almost over, and I stood my ground, adamant to see the climax. The sun had not come up yet!

But alas, it was not meant to be. The Guardians ordered the grey clouds to keep cover over the East… There shone an aura of gold from behind the thick mane of grey, but the sun never came. The curtains sealed shut in my face, and I was asked to desert my stolen seat. It was a grey morning as I accepted defeat and left the theater; I could not help but feel that such performances were reserved for the few. A chance wandering after sehri time was not the way to experience the change of guard between the night and day. For all it was worth, it made sense that the right to experience this show needed to be earned. The Guardians of the Day may have chased me away this morning, but I plan on earning a proper audience and a better seat for this sublime change of guard, the crossing of the heavens between night and day. It is needed more than ever to release my heart of the irony that was now settling in: the irony of witnessing the dawn, yet missing the sunrise.