Dad comes in my room holding the mabkhara with the oudh bakhoor burning sweetly....Dad loves to perfume our home in the weekends specially on fridays..
As the fragnant rich thick smoke tickles my senses, im am suddenly struck by reality.
IM AT HOME. Where I belong.
Mom, whose life she has dedicated for her children.
Dad, whose every dua for a bright future for his kids.
Sisters, the running veins of life..
Family! The beautiful basket of love, faith and sacrifices. God's greatest gift in everyone's life.
Alhamdullilah for the wonderful family i have.
As I complete my salah, and fold my prayer mat, dad kisses my forehead with a comforting "Allah bless you, my child".
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