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It was a cold and dark night, the kind of night when lovers walked hand in hand and loners walked as swiftly as they could to reach home. The moon shined in the sky like a bright oil lamp, occasionally being covered by the dark clouds moving east. He had just left from home for work, he closed the front door of his small house and came outside, he felt a slight shiver on his spine, the cold had set in this once warm summery night. He went up to his bike and took out his keys from his backpack and started his five year old Enfield Bullet which he had bought on a loan, today was the first day this bike was actually "his" , just today in the morning he got a notice from the bank saying his loan was finished and he would get his papers. He thanked Allah for blessing him with a lovely job which took care of most of his expenses. He got out of the driveway and rode into the silent night. His strong 500cc engine roared like a hungry lion on his way out for a night hunt. He loved this time of the year as it brought so much joy around the world, this was the holiest of holy month of Ramzan. Ramzan always brought a smile to his face, he reminisced the days when he used to go to Jama Masjid for the Maghrib (evening prayer)and then the food which he so dearly loved. A shrill sound broke his chain of thoughts and he looked around to see what had happened, a truck had just pulled across the street and the sound of its breaks had made his heart rush, he laughed at his cowardice.
