Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem
Zuleikha
Within ourselves, there’s a drive that was created for our nafs. What makes us run… after anything…. is attraction. The desire. Love. The need to give and receive love.
And this need is inherent. It has been put in us by the Creator. The creator of Love… for a purpose. The need to give and receive love was created as a driver. A driver that pushes us back to Him. You see, what we don’t realize is… we begin with Allah, and Our Rabb wants us to come back to Him in this life – to return even before we come back to Him in the next. So He puts inside us, drivers intended to bring us back.
The problem is, sometimes we make a little bit of sin. We get a little shaky… and then, just get a little lost along the way.
And yes, at first I did feel lost, as I walked with my husband, trying to appear as composed as I could.
Today was a bit different. I was going to meet his family, without any of mine around. A casual braai at his uncles house. I was feeling scared too.
Everything had been beautiful the day before. The reception, a small function that I always wanted, had been perfect. All the people closest to me had been there, and my heart had felt content, knowing that everything was going according to plan. Jameel had spoken to a few people about Abba, and he assured me that there will be news by the end of the week.
My mind felt rested, and my worries were put at bay. Jameel was true to his word, and I wanted to prove to my family that he wasn’t what they always thought. I wasnt sure why, but there was an overwhemlng need to prove that Jameel was actually a good guy.
I pulled down my top slightly as I walked, finding it just a little too short. Through Jameel’s guidance, I probably looked the most attractive that I had ever looked in my entire life. Instead of the summery dress I wanted to wear, he had insisted that I wear a tight-fitting jeans and lace top. For the first time ever, I slipped on a pair of stiletto jelly sandals that he had bought. Being naturally tall, I never felt the need for them… but he had insisted that they were the ‘in thing’.
I sucked in my breath as we passed an indoor water feature, awestruck by the interior of the house.
It was quite spectacular.
“Here comes the gorgeous couple!”
The voice was loud and striking.
“That’s Aunty Romana,” Jameel half whispered to me, reaching for my hand as we walked closer. I was glad that he did. Meeting new people would be completely daunting at this point. I felt so vulnerable.
Aunty Romana was wearing a bright yellow and purple dress that opened up like an umbrella as she walked, making her look all elegant and elite… although she did look like she could lose a few kilos.
She had sparkly diamanté’s on her neckline and her glittery made-up eyes flashed rapidly as she spoke, with a wide smile on her face. Her teeth were whiter than white.
“I love your shoes!” She said, literally looking at me up and down as she said it. I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or if she was just looking for something to say. Her eyes were darting all over. Then she turned to Jameel.
“Daaaaarling!” She cooed, squeezing his defined shoulder and air kissing him as her cheek barely touched his. Jameel put his arm around her, half hugging her back.
I frowned. I thought this was his uncle’s wife. She was being so touch-feely… for me, and my conservative background, it was so strange.
But it was okay, right? She was like older than his mother, so she probably looked at him like a son. This was her house anyway.
I shrugged the nagging thought away, my mind diverted by more and more people coming into view, and coming up to us. I was feeling a little overwhelmed. They were all hugging Jameel and then stopping to scrutinize me, and I understood why Jameel wanted me to dress the way I did. These people were super-modern, and I could see that for them, an outfit defines a person. I supposed that you would really have to have an amazing personality to get away with looking drab at this party.
“Hey cuz.”
It was Jameel who said it, as a pretty girl I remembered vaguely from yesterday’s function came up to him. She gave him a wink and a brief hug and then looked at me. Again, I ignored the feeling that plagued me. All this touching and hugging was a bit much.
“My new sister in law,” she said, genuinely looking excited. She wore a sleeveless dress that sat just above her knee. She started talking nineteen-to-the-dozen about how excited she was that she could finally meet the girl who stole her cousin’s heart, and how we need to do a coffee date. I nodded, not wanting to come across as rude.
I supposed a coffee date wouldn’t be that bad either. Although I didn’t do very well talking about make up and heels.
Don’t be so judgmental, I reminded myself.
I had learnt that even seeing people who seemed unislamic shouldn’t change our thoughts of them. Hate the dress. Hate the action. Don’t hate the person.
I sighed. This was probably going to be a long afternoon. I felt strange, all surrounded by white, glass and semi-naked people.
Jameel began to talk to his cousins, and I zoned out, wanting to rest my feet. They were sore from the heels and I needed to give them a break. There was a sleek white leather couch I was eyeing, and I quietly left my post next to Jameel and idled up to it, getting ready to collapse.
“Ah.”
I got alarmed as I heard the voice, and I looked up to see Aunty Romana suddenly next to me. This woman was like a bullet.
I wasn’t sure where she had come from but she was such a erratic personality that I didn’t expect less from her.
“Darling,” she said sympathetically, reaching out to hold my hand and practically lifting me off the couch. She was gesturing me towards somewhere else. “Let me take you to the sitting lounge.”
I froze, completely embarrassed.
Goodness. She was feeling sorry for me.
I mean, I completely got the point. The couch there was not meant for sitting on. I just wasn’t sure what on earth it was for then.
Gosh. I must have looked so stupid.
I glanced back one last time at Jameel as Aunty Romana pulled me along. I wished that he was looking. He was so engrossed in conversation with at least half a dozen of his cousins that he didn’t even notice me leaving the room.
Of course, it didn’t help that Jameel was super attractive and a smooth talker too. He was relating some story about the hotel yesterday and I could tell that every listener was hooked. We had a bit of a drama in the waiting area as we checked in, with some unruly guests. In retrospect, it was quite funny, and he was narrating it expertly.
My heart flip-flopped. A certain warmth filled my gut when I was reminded that he was my husband. It was obvious that he was really popular. I knew that all along, and it was one of the things that drew me to him… Made him so attractive. He was super busy too… with business and in between countless friends and acquaintances. Getting his undiverted attention made me feel special.
She clip-clapped with her kitten heels and I silently followed Aunty Romana through a passage, as we entered another area of the house.
If I thought that the entrance of the house was extravagant, this was… well, just over the top. It was a super modern kitchen, fitted with the best stainless steel appliances, and finished off with white high gloss cupboards and doors. Touches of lime green added a slightly quirky vibe to the place, and my eyes widened as I saw the crystal chandelier.
Yes. A chandelier. In the kitchen.
“How lovely,” I murmured, knowing that I was expected to say something. I could feel the penetrating gaze and from the way Aunty Romana was looking at me and smiling, I knew I had to comment.
She clapped her hands excitedly, nodding.
“It is, huh?!” She agreed eagerly. “You won’t believe how much it cost, doll… this is just the dummy version. I suppose you don’t know much about these things. The real kitchen is at the back of the house. Where the visitors can’t see the chef’s mess!”
I don’t know much about these things?
I wasn’t sure if she was having a go at me or not.
She clapped her hands again and beamed at me innocently, hustling along again and gesturing for me to follow her. We entered another room just around the corner, leading out to a huge tiled entertainment area and an AstroTurf play zone. There were already quite a few people there, and kids as well.
I swallowed, wondering if I had heard right.
A dummy kitchen? I was speechless.
I tried to ignore the unfamiliar feeling of despair as I sat in the ‘sitting lounge’, which was also fancy, but less high maintenance. I gazed out at the pool and the people around it, kind of lost in this material world.
This was no doubt the fanciest house I had ever been to. Abba had been doing well in business, but he had never splashed out like this. This was extreme.
Wasn’t this just wrong? Sheer extravagance? I mean, people were starving in Kenya. They had no homes. What on earth was wrong with us that we have such an indifferent attitude to the plight of others?
But maybe they had already given money to good causes. Maybe it was justified. My mind was trying to convince me that it was okay. Maybe it was. I shouldn’t let it bother me now, anyway. It was supposed to be my day.
Why must the thought of starving children bother me now?
I sat back now, clearing my mind, determined to ignore any guilt. Though Jameel was probably still entertaining his cousins, I made my way outside, feasting my eyes on the glam decor and millions of starters that were at my disposal.
They actually had waiters, walking around and serving various things on trays. Fancy things. Drinks in stemmed glasses. It was like something out of a movie, and as everyone came to greet me, being the new bride, I couldn’t help but feel a little excited. Like a VIP.
So this was what it was going to be like, married to Jameel. I could live like this.
I spotted my mother-in-law and sister-in-law in the distance. They had come forward to speak to me for a while, and I tried to ignore the little comments I got about my hijab. They both wore no scarves, and I sat in the crowd, I kind of felt strange in mine.
I forgot about my own family for a little while, as I sat there. I forgot about the things that had made me feel uncomfortable when I first arrived. And then, I even forgot about feeling strange as I started to enjoy myself.
That was how it was with matters of this world. Sometimes it just takes one sin, and everything you had build so far is lost. For a single piece of paradise in his wretched world, you sometimes trade an eternity of bliss.
I sat there, oblivious to everything besides the attention and happiness of what I was feeling. I was besotted by the superficialities that surround me. For a little aesthetic pleasure, I had ignored my own values.
Jameel sauntered in, followed by some of his friends now. It was full of younger girls and boys. The older adults had found there way to the other sitting lounge, and I stayed put.
As I sat and looked on, I could tell that Jameel was obviously the most influential person in the room, and I watched him silently, wondering if he would notice me with all the attention he was getting. The girls were now huddled together, talking amongst themselves, and the guys were talking loudly on the other side.
My new husband caught site of me and gave me a wide smile, and I felt like the most important girl in the world. No-one else mattered. It didn’t matter if he had ignored me for almost an hour. It didn’t matter what the environment was like. When he sat next to me for a few minutes, giving me his full attention, my heart soared.
I was so absorbed in the moment, that I had forgotten about everything else. Jameel reached out for my hand and I looked at him. I could see him looking around. Everything was mixed and although it felt awkward to me, I guess I couldn’t blame my husband. It wasn’t his fault.
Later I would tell him that I didn’t like it. Tomorrow, it would all be back to normal.
Don’t worry, the voice said.
It was only a little bit of sin…
————————————————————
A respected Aalim mentions that even a little bit of sin will open the door to discontentment. Once one engages in what may seem like a small wrong, it immediately opens a door to discontentment and the peace or Sukoon is lost. Hence, there is no such thing as a ‘small’ sin.
The change in theme of the posts are hoping to bring in many important lessons. No matter how much of money one may give for good causes, extravagance to such a degree in Islam is unacceptable.
May Allah guide us all.
Much love,
A 🌸
Masha Allah lovely beneficial post
اللهم زد فزد🌷💟💖
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Shukran sis ❣️
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So many scary stories about the kind of issues that arise by marrying someone who isn’t on the same level of deen as you … As traumatic as it seems, I’m glad you’re taking the time out to discuss this in depth. Jzk for brining these lessons to light ..♥️
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Too true… and it’s so easy to get carried away.
Aameen, shukran sis 🌼
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subhnaAllah…
excellent post! it really hammers home how we’ve shifted the goal post and justify extravagance and a lax attitude to intermingling… the feeling of guilt slowly evaporating…
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Exactly what I was trying to highlight in this post… a whole lot to reveal about where this leads Zuleikha in her marriage…
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