Le soleil glorieux.

The sunset was especially glorious yesterday evening. Don't ask me how I know, or why I say it was so. Somehow, yesterday's sunset was unlike any other sunsets I've seen. Too bad I didn't catch it on camera. The image still sticks in my mind--even now, when the new day is halfway through.

There are words that go with it too. Verses from my favorite chapter in the Quran. One can't help but marvel at the way the words are placed together. There is a musical ring to it, a poetic resonance that, even when recited by the most ordinary person, never fails to captivate you. And if you know the language, it's even more profound and beautiful.

They say the words of the Quran are the words of the Almighty himself.

And by these words, the protesting skeptic in me is (temporarily) silenced.

By the Sun and his glorious splendor;

By the Moon as she follows him;

By the Day as it shows the Sun's glory;

By the Night as it conceals it;

By the Firmament and its (wonderful) structure;

By the Earth and its vast expanse;

By the Soul, and the proportion and order given to it;

And its enlightenment, as to its wrong and its right;

Truly he succeeds that purifies it,

and he fails that corrupts it!

-- Ash-Shams (The Sun): Verses 1-10 --

Err...tant de temps?

"Mon passe-temps favori, c'est laisser passer le temps, avoir du temps, prendre son temps, perdre son temps, vivre à contretemps." ~Francoise Sagan

My favorite pastime is to let the time go by, to have time, to take my time, to waste time, to live against the times.

Sixty seconds in a minute. Sixty minutes in an hour. Twenty-four hours in day. Then come the weeks, and the months, and the inevitable year. It's never enough. I always end up with no time at the end of it all.

Makes me wish this planet could trade orbit paths with Mars, or any other planet that comes after it.

To err is human, to purr feline.

Here's an interesting fact: Cats don't meow to other cats.

Meowing is a sound they make specifically for humans. They meow only to us--and they purr only to those they love.

I have nine cats. Oh, wait. It's eight now. Lost one a few months ago--killed by a speeding car. The youngest one of the bunch, Sam, especially loves to purr. Touch her just a little, and it starts. Stroke her fur, and she does it. Pick her up and it gets even more intense. I have a nickname for her: 'Silent mode cellphone', because of the vibrations I feel whenever she's on my lap or in my arms.

The purring of a cat--I have to say, has a very soothing effect. It calms your nerves. It even brings out the happy in you. When a cat purrs, it's actually telling you that it loves you. And to know that you are loved, it sure does make you happy.

I can't even begin to explain just how much I love my little furballs. I think they are the only ones I love who seem to genuinely love me in return. None of my faults matter. They simply take me as I am--the good, the bad, the ugly--and still purr like crazy at the end of the day.

If only humans could purr. I wonder, who would do that for me?