Soul Glow

Lombok Reflections

On a wing and a prayer

The kampung has its own sounds that fill the air. The swaying of palms in the breeze, the scrape of sandals on gravel, the calls of sellers making their way past wooden gates. But above them all is another sound, sharper and impossible to ignore: the crowing of roosters.

They call while the sky is still dark, long before the Athaan of Fajr. They call again as the horizon begins to soften with light. And then they continue. At Fajr, after sunrise, at noon, in the heat of the afternoon, and even as evening draws near. Their cries come from walls, fields, and fences, from hidden corners where you least expect them.

And then, with nightfall, they fall silent. Until the next morning, when it all begins again.

For a long time, I thought of it as background noise, just another part of kampung life. But then I remembered the words of the Prophet ﷺ:

“When you hear the crowing of a rooster, ask Allah for His bounty, for it has seen an angel.” (Bukhari)

SubhanAllah. This creature, with no speech and no knowledge, sees what I cannot. It sees angels, the noble servants of Allah, descending by His command. And when it cries out, it is not random. It is a sign.

The Prophet ﷺ instructed us: when you hear it, do not stay silent. Ask Allah. Make duah.

Allah says:

“And your Lord says, ‘Call upon Me; I will respond to you. Indeed, those who disdain My worship will enter Hell in humiliation.’” (Surah Ghafir 40:60)

Here is clarity. Duah is not a small thing. It is worship itself. To call upon Allah is to draw close; to neglect it is pride. Yet how often do we allow moments to slip past? How often do we treat the sound of a rooster as nothing more than noise, when in fact it could be an opening of the heavens?

Allah also reminds us:

“And when My servants ask you concerning Me, indeed I am near. I respond to the invocation of the supplicant when he calls upon Me.” (Surah al-Baqarah 2:186)

He is near. He hears every word, every whisper, every tear. The rooster cries because it sees what we cannot. But the reminder is not for itself. It is for us. To pause. To lift our hearts. To use that moment to call upon the One who is never far.

Living here in Lombok, these calls reach me all day. They interrupt silence, pierce through conversation, echo across the village as I walk home from the masjid. And I began to realise: each one is a chance. A reminder that the unseen world is not distant. That angels descend, that Allah’s mercy is near.

Sometimes I whisper Astaghfirullah.

Sometimes I pray for ease.

Sometimes I make duah for my parents, my children, my family, and for my akhirah.

Other times it is only this, "Ya Rabb, I need You."

Because duah is not about eloquence or length. It is about sincerity. About turning back to Him in whatever words come.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

“Duah is worship.” (Tirmidhi)

And then I reflect. If even a rooster is a sign, how many other reminders surround us every day?

The Quran tells us that all creation glorifies Allah, though we do not understand their glorification. The waves that crash upon the shore, the trees that stretch silently upward, the stars that pierce the night sky, each in its own way remembers Him. The rooster’s crow is one of many voices in this endless chorus of creation, calling us to reflect and to return.

And Allah, in His mercy, has given us countless opportunities for our duah to be accepted. In the last third of the night, between the Athaan and the Iqamah, when rain falls, in sujood, on Friday between Asr and Maghrieb, and in the moments when hearts are most in need. These are not coincidences. They are divine invitations. If He has scattered so many openings across our lives, how can we remain silent when even a rooster announces an angel’s presence?

It also reminds me that Allah’s signs are often simple. Yet we overlook them in our search for the spectacular. A quiet morning, a kind word, a shared smile, a rooster’s cry. All of them are soft calls from the unseen world, urging us to remember Him before the distractions of life drown out the sound.

What once felt ordinary has become extraordinary.

A bird’s cry is not a nuisance. It is a gift. A daily nudge from Allah reminding me that the unseen is close, that His mercy is always near, and that I should never delay in turning back to Him.

Now when I hear them, I cannot dismiss it. I cannot let the chance pass. Because perhaps in that very moment, Allah has opened a window for my duah to rise, and for His mercy to descend.

Alhamdulillah for the roosters. Alhamdulillah for the reminders.

And Alhamdulillah for the nearness of Allah, who hears us at every time, in every place.

O Allah, make us people who never neglect the gift of duah. O Allah, keep our hearts sincere, our tongues constant in remembrance, and our souls alert to Your signs. O Allah, forgive our forgetfulness, guide us when we drift, and draw us ever nearer to You. Ameen

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