"The Visionary's Call"
"The future of a nation is crafted in the classrooms of today."
-Whalid Safodien
The Feather Pen
Before the ink of philosophy ever graced my pages, my pen was a squeegee, and my canvas was the world, reflected in a thousand shining windows.
I would climb, suspended between the earth and the sky, and with every stroke, I would wipe away the grime of the city. But it was never just glass I was cleaning. In each pane, I saw a life. A family arguing over breakfast, an old man tending his plants, a child dreaming by the sill. And in the clarity I created for them, I would always see my own face—a young man with calloused hands and a quiet heart.
I would write quotes for them, not on paper, but in the perfection of my work. For the arguing family, I’d polish their window until it was so clear, they might see each other’s hearts again. For the dreaming child, I’d leave a streak-free view to the infinite sky. My message was simple, written in water and effort: If a man like me can bring this much light into the world, then surely, anyone can.
I did not know it then, but I was not the author of that wisdom. I was merely the hand that held the cloth. I see now that Allah (SWT) was writing through me. He places the yearning for meaning in our souls, He etches the wisdom onto the silent tablets of our hearts. Not a single thought stirs, not a single word is written, without being by His Will. We are all humble scribes, trying to translate a divine lesson.
Back then, on those high ledges, I saw my whole life reflected in the glass—not as it was, but as it could be. It was all there, ahead of me. The struggle, the clarity, the reflection of a soul seeking its purpose.
This life is the ultimate classroom. Its lessons are not written in books, but in every moment of joy that takes your breath away, and in every pain that cracks your heart open. It is in the sweat on your brow and the prayer on your lips. We are all just window cleaners, tasked with wiping away the dust of our own misunderstandings, striving to see clearly, to let the light in.
So live it. Not in spite of the struggle, but because of it. Love it, even when it hurts, for the hurt is a teacher. And pray. Pray with every breath, for the connection to the One who writes the story is the greatest lesson of all.
I may write philosophy now, but I will forever remember my truest, purest work: the silent messages of hope I left on shining windows, a reflection of a truth far greater than myself.
-Whalid Safodien
The Feather Pen