Carry My Name

Quiet, Yet Not Empty.

Farha sat on the balcony, hugging her knees with her phone in hand. The sky was half dark, heavy clouds covering the stars. Kelibatmu's Bawalah Namaku played softly through the speaker, the singer's voice husky but honest. The night wind brushed through the leaves around her, deepening the gentle quiet.

Aida arrived carrying two cups of hot tea, her hair slightly tousled by the wind. “Farha, when you sing a sad song, even our feed starts feeling sad,” she said with a faint laugh, though her eyes rested tenderly on Farha.

Farha chuckled and patted her shoulder. “That's all right. Everyone else is making cheerful content. Let me be the tearful version. Very dramatic.” Aida rolled her eyes as she sat beside her. “Now crying has to trend too?” Farha grinned. “No. But sometimes crying can become art.”

She pulled the blanket closer, letting the wind skim her arms. It carried the lingering scent of rain. Farha looked at her phone. A notification arrived. Just one like. From Aida. Everyone else was silent. “That's the fate of content creators these days. Everyone's busy looking perfect and forgetting how to feel,” she whispered with a bitter smile.

Aida leaned back, sipping her tea as she watched the sky. “You don't make songs for likes. You make them because your soul needs to speak. Sometimes the soul has no voice, but a song can become its tongue.” Farha gave a faint smile, her eyes fixed on the dark sky. Clouds moved slowly, hiding the stars that peeked out shyly.

“True. But sometimes I still want it to feel like it did before. When people shared things. When they understood what a song meant without me having to explain it at length.” Aida laughed softly and playfully pushed Farha's face away. “It's not that people don't like you. You're simply a sound they haven't had time to hear because everyone's chasing the next trend. But when silence comes, yours will be the song they look for.”

Farha drew a deep breath. She shifted her feet toward the railing, feeling the chill of the night air. A line from the song drifted through her mind. “If I do not return, carry my name into the silence.” She closed her eyes for a moment and let the sounds of the night enter her soul.

She placed her cup on the table, then looked at Aida with a small smile. “If I really disappear one day, tell them… I wasn't looking for popularity. I was only looking for peace.” Aida smiled gently and patted Farha's hand. “Farha, sometimes peace isn't a place. Sometimes it's simply a song we leave behind for those who miss us.”

Farha laughed and patted Aida on the back. Rain began tapping softly against the balcony, giving rhythm to the quiet. “Then maybe this song is enough. At least if I don't return, people will still be able to hear my name.”

The night grew darker. And beyond the clouds, a small light kept shining. Perhaps it wasn't a star. Perhaps it was Farha's heart, still refusing to go out. The rain and wind blended with the song that continued to play softly.

Between quiet laughter, the gentle rain, and a silence full of stories, Farha knew that life could be most poetic when we dared to listen to our own hearts, even while the world said nothing.

Aida leaned back, laughed softly, then spoke in a low voice. “When dawn greets the earth tomorrow, don't forget to whisper a prayer. I'll find my way home too.” Farha smiled. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the song and rain mingle as witnesses to a heart that remained faithful in the silence.