Mohsina Part 72
Just like I learnt the golden rule of thumb (ie. silence of the thumb is golden)… I also learnt that in certain cases, with certain people and circumstances… actual silence is also golden.
And now, I know very well that Nani never means to be the way she is. She is a force of nature but also an exceptional source of wisdom for our family, and even though we’ve had our fair share of ups and downs over the years, never in a million years have I ever thought of her as less than the caring grandmother who always wants what is good for us (even though we may often disagree).
She was who she was, and though there were times when she annoyed me and made me want to run away, I was taught by my parents that there was still no way I would ever trade her for a lesser version.
Respect. Always. I knew that it went a long way.
It was just that sometimes… just sometimes… she was a tad bit too much. Now and then, when Nani borders on break downs, she really does get a little all consuming.
”She said no.”
Nani was saying it to herself, almost like a mantra, as I watched her, shaking her head. She had already been through it about three hundred times with us, and now she seemed to be going through it with herself.
”She said no.”
On repeat. There were the words again. The ones that she was struggling to understand.
“I don’t understand, Mohsina,” she said, looking at me, now, a certain panic in her eyes, as she stared into a blank space. “Can you believe it? What I did wrong in my life to deserve this? How can Isthikhaarah be negative when the boy is so positive?!”
I wanted to snort with laughter but I meekly covered my mouth and held my piece as I watched Nani, and then switched my gaze to Hamzah, who was staring fixatedly at his phone, and I could tell that he was trying very hard to keep a straight face.
He kept an eye on Zaid who was rolling around on the floor next to him, chewing his teether erratically, looking like he wanted to bite its head off. His first tooth hadn’t popped as yet, but we were still checking every day. He kept stuffing his cute little fist in his mouth and there was no doubt that he was teething.
I, on the other hand, grabbed a dhikr counter and urged myself to profusely recite more Adhkaar. It was so true that Dhikr was a means of even preventing inevitable problems. Also, keeping my mouth closed was a recipe for success when it came to Nani.
Also, keeping quiet wasn’t my nature but I was feeling bad. I sighed as I watched her forlorn expression, shifting my gaze to the gloomy weather outside.
Seemed like Jameela was bringing the London weather back with her return, and though her return was much anticipated, I wasn’t exactly feeling the whole getting drenched while we pulled her countless bags out of the car idea. Though Jameela wasn’t a huge shopper, my mothers lists of Marks and Spencer favourites Maahira insisted she send back were something else.
”Nani, I think it’s for the better,” I said as I grabbed the teacup that had half a cup of murky coffee inside it.
With Jameela’s romantic notions about life, I really hoped that she could at least get somewhere close to that kind of love that built you and bonded you, and that can be your safe space and shelter. A love that not only was good for this world, but also carried through to the hereafter. I really wished so much more for Jameela than what Doc seemed to be able to give.
“What better?” She said snappily. “He is got a broken heart, poor chap. I don’t think it is possible that Jameela is thinking properly. Maybe something happened to her head in the plane. All that fitna air made her go mad.”
I suppressed another snort of laughter and took a chug of coffee as I watched my mother’s face expression change slightly, and she shot me a warning look. Hamzah was barely meeting my eye. The truth was, no one but Nani really liked Muneer.
I knew that Doc didn’t tickle Hamzah’s fancy either and Jameela refusing meant us saving him from a lifetime of having to make conversation with someone who he could never relate to.
”Rather now than she say no later,” my mother said weakly, as she checked the pots on the stove. “There will be someone better for her, you will see.”
”And for him also. So nice boy he is.”
Okay, so I added that as a second thought because I was trying to score brownie points with Nani, and sometimes these things were essential.
Nani shook her head disbelievingly, almost as if she was in shock that we could even suggest that.
“Mohsina, just come here one minute,” Nani said, flapping her dupatta around and taking a seat after a few seconds, the melodramatic expression appearing on her face, as she patted the small of her back. “Just massage here. On the top part. All this stress is giving me back ache and I can’t even sleep properly. Every night I am tossing and turning because how will I explain this kind thing at Khairoon’s house next week to all the ladies. Nevermind. How much I suffer for my grandchildren, Allah knows.”
I ignored the urge to roll my eyes. Shame, Nani’s social status was under threat. But it really was for good reason.
She had completely ignored our attempt to try and explain the beautiful phenomenon of Allahs plan is the best plan. That no matter what happened now, if they were meant to be, they would be.
She also seemed like she didn’t believe us when we said that there was Khair in everything. She was convinced that we were lying, and we just couldn’t let Jameela make a decision like that when everything depended on it.
She also kept sneaking me looks, as if she didn’t believe me when I said that I tried to tell Jameela to think carefully.
Of course I did (not).
Jameela was due to be back any minute and I could tell that Nani was getting all revved up for a full frontal assault. All I knew was that I was going to try very hard to protect my sister from whatever was in store.
My poor sister was probably dreading coming back home and I really did feel sorry for her.
The moment had arrived as the first drops of afternoon rain had decided to appear from the formidable sky, and everyone was already rushing around, trying to make sure that all bags and luggage could be brought in before the full downpour.
The weather matched the atmosphere almost perfectly, and seeing her, in actuality, as she jumped off the car and Hamzah had already went out to help my uncle with bags, was another feeling completely. I didn’t realise how much I had missed my sister these past few weeks until I saw her there in the flesh.
And as I followed behind, staying under cover as I watched her exit the car looking as pretty as a picture, even though she was probably exhausted, I couldn’t help but notice on her face the look of resignation.
Tiredness. It had to be. And of course she would be feeling that way. Jet lag was real, and that was completely expected.
“Zubair is coming for the bags,” my father said to Hamzah as I approached the car, watching as Hamzah pulled a suitcase out from the boot and greeted my uncle with a hug.
I knew Papa relied on Zubair to do all the physical work at home because of his health, but Hamzah was perfectly capable of doing it too. I supposed that he was so used to relying on Zubair that he sometimes forgot he had an actual son-in-law.
“It’s okay,” Hamzah said in reply, but I could already spot the familiar figure as he walked toward us with a rain jacket on, and my eyes instantly switched to Jameela as I watched her glance in his direction and then simultaneously turn away, and I couldn’t help but conceal my smile.
Today, for some reason, Jameela’s demure actions didn’t make me feel all that concerned. After finding out that Zubair was actually not a horrible guy, for some reason, the things that had worried me about the two of them seemed completely irrelevant now.
And as Hamzah pulled out a bigger bag and Zubair efficiently went to take it from him, along with a smaller one that was next to the car, I couldn’t help but notice something in Jameela’s entire demeanour change.
And it wasn’t unexpected. I knew that there would be some sort of underhand back and forth, but what Jameela did next was completely out of the blue.
She had literally morphed from some coy teenage girl to an assertive young women who immediately stalked over to where they stood, mere milliseconds before Zubair could reach the bag in question. Her fully clad arm stretched out, snatching the bag handle out of his reach just as I caught his gaze linger on her for a few moments longer than necessary before he looked down.
”I got it, Papa,” she said flatly, glancing at my father, as Papa’s brow furrowed and Zubair instantly took a step back. “We don’t need his help.”
And with that, mouths slightly agape, Papa and I both just watched her wheel her bag through to the house, barely even knowing how to react, before I hastily followed right behind her, determined to figure out what on earth all that back there was all about.
That was weird. Not to mention, completely awkward.
It was so unlike Jameela that I could barely believe that she did that. It was so unlike her normally sweet and sensitive nature, that I could barely believe that this had actually happened.
Pure-hearted, considerate Jameela had come back from London in such a combative mood that I could barely believe it was her.
And as I watched her in her free flowing abaya and tightly wrapped hijab, enter the house, greeting my mother and Nani, briefly, I couldn’t help but shoot them a look to tell them to give her a break. Doctor and his broken heart was all by the way, because what was happening was what was making me a little unsettled.
I followed her as she made her way up to her room, wondering why she wasn’t even looking at me.
Two weeks away had made her a different kind of person, and I was still struggling to come to terms with it.
She had stomped up the stairs in a bit of a huff, and as I walked behind her, it took me a while to figure out that she was avoiding eye contact. Whatever had happened down there was completely intentional and I was going to get to the bottom of it, no matter what it took.
Jameela had pushed her room door open, tossed her smaller bag on the bed, and turned around before plopping herself on its edge.
I couldn’t help but ask. I could see that something was up. I mean, she barely even stopped to greet zaid. When Jameela ignored Zaid after weeks of not seeing him, something was definitely up.
“It’s stupid,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes briefly before shaking her head. “I’m stupid. Just don’t worry about it.”
”Jameela, you’re not stupid.”
My voice was soft and coaxing and it was all it took for the tears to start welling up in her eyes again. I wasn’t sure what was bringing it all on, but I knew that this was not just any normal reaction.
“Did something happen?” I asked, sitting down next to her as she fell back into the bed, almost in surrender, and covered her face with her hands.
”Y-you don’t want to know.”
Her voice came out all strained and muffled and I could tell that she was really uncomfortable about whatever she was going to say. It didn’t mean that I wanted to hear it any less. In fact, I now wanted to know more.
Something major had gone down and I now needed to know.
”Talk to me, Jamz,” I said soothingly, knowing that I had to be there for her. “What’s going on? You know everything happens for a reason. You’re not yourself, and it can’t only be the proposal causing all these weird emotions…”
I grinned at my sister, but she didn’t smile back.
Okay what on earth was up with her?
I looked at her enquiringly, tilting my head to the side as she took a deep breath as if she was going to say something big, and I was already all ears.
“You remember Nusaybah?”
Nusaybah. Mr Mujahid’s (aka Zubair) sister.
I looked at her, narrowed my eyes and nodded as she sat up and yanked her scarf off, revealing her hair that was tied up in a loose bun and stretched her slender neck.
Jameela was perfectly and naturally slim and I was sure she would stay that size her entire life.
I said it as naturally as I could. I only hoped that Jameela hadn’t taken things into her hands and gotten involved in something haraam. She knew better than that, but with temptation- you could never tell.
At the mention of Zubair, expectantly, her gaze faltered. I did expect that.
She took a deep breath.
”She wanted to ask him about what he would think about me,” she blabbered, and I focused on her a little more intently as she spoke. My poor sister was looking distraught, ans I was soon going to know why. “I don’t even know why… but she was convinced that Zubair may have been a little interested in me. And because she said it, well… I was stupid, okay? I got my hopes up too.”
Uh-Oh. I wasn’t sure if I liked the way things were sounding. Seemed liked these two girls were playing a matchmaking game. I stared at her, but remained silent as she continued.
“Anyway,” she said, sounding tired and embarrassed as she visibly flushed. “She told him that I may be interested. And I told Papa, because he suspected a while back… and I wanted him to know that Nusaybah was talking to her brother about me. It wasn’t anything official, it was just a little feeler to decipher what he felt…”
Oh no. Oh no oh no.
She wasn’t looking happy and that didn’t mean anything good. And then, it all just made sense.
Zubair was looking so awkward and out of place out there, especially when Jameela grabbed the bag and stomped off. It was all happening so fast and I wasn’t entirely sure what had gone down but I knew that it was something completely unexpected…
And now I understood. It was all crystal clear.
”He said no, Mos,” she whimpered softly, looking visibly stung by the outcome, as if she was reliving the moments that she heard of the first time. “He said no. I mean, deep down, I knew that he wasn’t really interested but I thought that after Nusaybah had mentioned him, she may have had a better idea. I had already said no to Muneer at that point. I thought that everything about him seemed wrong because maybe Zubair was actually better for me.”
I was still digesting it. While Jameela was away in London, so much had happened in these past three days, and I was completely unaware of it.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” she went on, shaking her head and sitting up. “Maahira said that maybe you were right. All my stupid dreams and fantasies. I’m not like you, Mos. Now I understand what you said before, about me waiting till I’m a bit older. I think I don’t know a thing about real life and marriage and I’m really am sworn off men for the next year at least. I cannot deal.”
Maahira? She spoke to Maahira about this. And she didn’t tell me. I was hurt.
”Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked her. I couldn’t believe all this that had gone down without knowing a thing.
“Mos, I knew you are dealing with so much yourself,” she mumbled, her eyes slightly misty again. “How can I trouble you with my stupid worries that aren’t even worth it. You have your in laws and Zaid and Rabia and plenty more to sort out…”
I breathed in, and the sting subsided a bit. Yes, had other things on my mind but Rabia had been quiet for a while and I was hopeful that things between us would return to normal. Rabia was the type to hold a grudge and though I didn’t make a huge effort to end the feud, I figured that her silence was a good sign.
My sister had a problem and I was hurt that she hadn’t confided me in me but I couldn’t quite imagine what she felt.
“Besides,” she said, taking a deep a breath in. “I’m not even worried because I’ve started reading this amazing Duaa. Nusaybah actually told me about it. You know the Duaa of Musaa AS? I was feeling completely down and depressed and it’s the only thing that got me through. I’m in so much of a better state than I was…”
رَبِّ إِنِّي لِمَا أَنْزَلْتَ إِلَيَّ مِنْ خَيْرٍ فَقِيرٌ
Rabbi innee limaaa anzalta ilaiya min khairin faqeer
“My Lord, indeed I am, for whatever good You would send down to me, in need.” (Surah Qasas, ayah 24)
I heard of it.
The recitation of this Du’aa was after Musa (as) was forced to escape from the city, into the desert, and headed towards Madyan.
After a long journey, Prophet Musa (as) came across a group of male shepherds who were watering their flock at a well. Keeping their distance, he noticed two women waiting in the back with their sheep. They felt it was safer to wait than to mix with the men who were gathered at the well.
When asked, they explained to Musa (as) that their father was an old man and unable to feed their flock, so they had to take on this duty. Now keep in mind that Musa (AS) himself was disheveled and exhausted from his travels, he likely did not have much to eat or to drink.
Still, he empathized with their situation, “So he watered (their flocks) for them; then he turned back to the shade…”(28:24) as he turned back to the shade he recited this du’a,
Rabbi innee limaaa anzalta ilaiya min khairin faqeer meaning, “My Lord, indeed I am, for whatever good You would send down to me, in need.”
Musa (AS) acted in an honorable manner to help these women in a foreign town amongst strangers. He prayed to Allah, asking him to provide more opportunities to do good acts like the one he just did. Also note, after having helped the women he did not stay and mingle, it says “watered (their flocks) for them; then he turned back to the shade”. Musa (AS) in this du’a also uses his state by saying that he is faqeer- meaning in dire need, or in poverty.
And through this Duaa Allah Ta’ala gave him so much more than just a home. He got food. He got provisions. He got a wife. A home. A family. Security. That was the blessing of that Duaa… that Allah gave so much more than just what was apparent to him at the time.
“I read it, Mos, and it’s like a calm descends on me,” she said with a certain kind of hope in her eyes. “And I’m okay. Really. I know I can trust Allah to reveal my story in the best way. I just have to avoid Zubair as much as possible. I don’t know how I can ever face him, and with him being here…”
It was going to be a difficult task to do forever, but she would get over it.
I wanted to hug her. I felt terrible for her. And I knew that I never liked him and always thought that he wasn’t good enough, but now I couldn’t help but feel insanely protective and want to break his legs for breaking her heart.
I really had no words for him! How could he say no? Without even meeting her, or even getting to know what she was about… Mister Mujahid made a decision based on nothing at all. As for Nusaybah, I wasn’t even sure what possessed her. I knew what rejection felt like and to see the hurt on my sisters face was like I myself was punched in the stomach.
“I’m so sorry, Jamz,” I said quietly, a cheeky smile creeping on my face. “If I knew earlier, I would have slashed the tires on his motorbike. I can still do it.”
I knew that I was being mean, but I was only trying to make her smile. And it worked.
”Please,” she said softly, the smile fading. “Just don’t do or say anything. It’s already so embarrassing.”
I smiled sadly as I tried soothing her the best I could, letting her take a small nap as I went downstairs to tell Nani and my mother that she wasn’t feeling great.
My mother went to check on her too, but Nani was still looking completely out of steam, and I was kind of glad. After everything, she really didn’t need Nani telling her what a bad decision she had made by rejecting Doc.
I wondered if she regretted that part. I knew if I was in her position, I would, but Jameela wasn’t me. When she had her mind set on something, she was pretty one-tracked.
All I knew was that somehow, during this time, so much had happened that I couldn’t quite believe that I had no idea all this while.
And of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even as we got home later that night, Zaid in his cute little car romper, almost asleep, as Hamzah helped me out of the car, it was all still racing through my mind.
Why did Jameela let Nusaybah do it, if she wasn’t almost sure that he felt the same way? Did she just feel pressured? Was it something she just wanted to strike off her list? Or was there some reason that Zubair had actually said no. The way he looked at Jameela… well, I knew that I was no expert but I could definitely tell that something more than awkwardness was in his gaze as he watched her match back to the house.
But maybe not quite.
I shook my head and sighed, letting Hamzah push open the door as I walked to the room and placed Zaid down, wanting to talk to him about it. I had tried to ask him about Zubair in the car, but had to stop because Zaid was popping his head up at every word and behaving like he was the main participant in the conversation.
He was becoming more alert with every day, and even though it was cuteness overload, it meant that Hamzah and I didn’t quite have the moments we used to have, when he would quietly feed and fall off to sleep.
These days I couldn’t even take out my phone without him wanting to grab it, and I knew that it was a lesson for me to have less screen time too.
I smiled at Hamzah, telling him that I would be with him in a minute, as I glanced at my laptop in the corner of our bedroom.
I wanted to ask him if he could talk to Zubair. Perhaps he would have some way of asking what Zubair’s deal was. Was he really that uninterested in my sister? I really couldn’t believe it.
Jameela was gorgeous by any standards, and the fact that he wasn’t even remotely attracted to her, to the extent that he didn’t even want to talk to her, just didn’t seem feasible.
And as I pulled off my scarf and checked my browser, waiting a few seconds for mails to load, and clicking on one that claimed to be urgent.
Mostly, these were mails with queries that had to do with previous accounts or budgets I had drawn up, and for a while it had been kind of quiet. I figured that there was someone competent in my old position, and I was genuinely glad.
This time, there was a single e-mail that stood out, and as I opened it and skimmed its contents, my heart beat with a certain kind of intensity that I’d never felt before.
The mail stated that a case had been opened against me, from Hammonds, claiming that I had stolen a large chunk of money with signed documents (by me) to confirm. It cited references from bank statements and messages and pictures from some Instagram accounts that I didn’t recognise. There were a host of accusations and allegations and I couldn’t even see anything made sense to me at that moment.
I actually couldn’t even think properly. I was in absolute shock, as I scrolled down in a daze.
My world had stopped. It was like everything had frozen in time. I wasn’t even sure what on earth had happened, but all I knew was that someone was out there to get me, and they were doing everything in their power to do so.
I glanced at the e-mail again, closed my eyes, and then, for first time since Layyanah’s death, I completely broke down.
Authors Note: Apologies for the delay. Signal issues since I’m not in the city. And the drama starts once again….
Mission Sunnah Revival:
Sunnah of Noble Character:
Nabi (SAW) gave attention, spoke and showed love to even the worst person of a nation until the person felt that he is being given special attention.
May Allah make us of those who uphold the Sunnah of character always.
He replied: “By Allah! To us The Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam) was dearer to us than our riches our children and our mothers, and was more cherishable than a drink of water at the time of severest thirst.”
SubhaanAllah… what perfect imaan they had… May Allah enable us to practise..💕
I have some hope.. Perhaps Zubair feels he isn’t worthy of love knowing the past he’s had.. Also he knows what a good girl she is, maybe he feels he aint good enough for her.. Poor Jams, But i love the Dua, one of my faves & one i constantly read especially during the down phases of life.
Nani, shame, i have no words..
Suspense for a whole week, wonder who doing this now?why would Faadil stoop so low? Anxiously awaiting the next post..
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I think we all have hope…
Jameela is still devastated.
Sorry, I’ll try and get the masala about Faadil’s scheme out soon…
Shukran sister ❤️
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I have full hope Zubair still very best for jamz just like hamzah best for mos..
Lol Nani is super melodramatic.. I really
Though I really don’t understand.. why would anyone be soo much after mos!!
She trying to do things right ain’t she.. poor soul.. I feel like punching that person really..
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Coz Mos isn’t sweet like Jameela and people don’t like her.
Okay, I’m kidding but that’s what she thinks and yes, she has earned a few enemies along the way.
I think the thing about Mos is that we can relate to her so much, especially the uncertain parts and the parts where we don’t know how to shut up. The insecurities and the battles we face. It’s like I’m always sizing her up against myself too… trying to see how I can help me…
Sounds weird but it’s reflective too ❤️
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Oh not weird at all….
I’m alot like her too.. I loved when she said she was a whole army and I feel the same way
I lost both my parents love to a very nasty divorce when I was younger and I took full charge of my siblings well being as they were all younger than me..
Not once did anyone know what I went through and noone
Ever asked if I was ok but I felt like I didn’t need pity and that showing me being all macho was the way to go about..
Sometimes I do cry too because of the enemies I earned along that way🙄🙄🙄
But alhamdulillah 🥰🥰🥰
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Can I guess???
So is Rabia busy here ?
Maybe with her and Haashim and Faadil?
Their enemy seem to be the family unit?
Mohsina and hamza and Zaid??
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Possibly yes, of Faadil.. or some other nemesis…
We shall seee…. ❤️
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Please Zubair and Jamz!! Please authoress, you are so nice.
Oh no let Mos and Hamzah be ok
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Lol, I am very nice
Let’s see…… ❤️
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Just a suggestion: Mohsina needs to give nani her panjsurah
Might save some headaches 😉
Being out of the city… plus u forgot the work u planned to take along.. am i pushing the limits if i say I’m earnestly hoping that the fresh air and green grass earns us an early post? 😀
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Lol. The pansurah should do the trick.
Sorry, wishful thinking, I’ve been otherwise occupied
(No further comment)
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I love your wit dear author.
Don’t get distracted on holiday… do Muraqaba n stay focused on the storyline!!
Just checked for luck if u perhaps gave us a new chapter for jumah surprises.
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Got a bit late but I hope it’s up to scratch ❤️