The Not so Little Things

Bismihi Ta’ala

Jameela

Part 84

Life is so uncertain.

If nothing else, it was one amazing lesson that I learnt from Zubair… the days when everything felt so new and amazing and I couldn’t imagine how I was so blessed to finally be there with him, that he wouldn’t miss a single chance to show me everything that he needed to, when it came to how he felt for me.

One thing I learnt during those days was that to keep going strong, didn’t always mean big, grand gestures that shifted the world. Girls get carried away by diamonds and perfumes and all the expensive stuff that are meant to prove love, but Zubair showed me that sometimes there was more truth in small, consistent things that made the world of a difference.

Little things like 5am sunrises and 7pm sunsets where you’ll be blown away by. Little things like Sunday morning motor-bike rides and on-a-whim road trips, and the feeling of wind in your open hair. Little things like the high you get off making someone else feel good, and for being the kind of people who make others realise that maybe the world is not such a harsh and cruel place after all…

It was always a tough call to make, but whether it’s a small act of kindness that was shown, or a little deed that is done that may just make your Jannah… living for the little things sometimes will make you realise that its those small things that make you feel alive…

There were tiny, beautiful gestures that he always made a habit. From the Tahajjud wakings, to the breakfasts in bed, and the post it notes that had the most amazing inspiration, Zubair’s character shone through in even through the not so little things he did.

And while I wished that I had a longer honeymoon period where I could just enjoy it and be with him unreservedly, soaking him in, but I knew that reality would intervene sooner than I thought, and his busy life would take over.

And although real life was quick to come into play, what helped was that in between, there were always the moments of fairy-tale like bliss and the cutest Fajr time conversations that made me feel like I was living a Muslim couple goals blog.

It was the little things like that that made me feel like I really was living a world where every problem that existed was so far away from us. When I lay next to him, in the dead of the night, while he would whisper to me incidents of his past, and sweet nothings as I curled up in his arms, it felt as if no one could ever touch us.

I didn’t know that life had a sneaky way of surprising us when we least expected it.

Just when I thought that things would be blissful forever, the next morning; his bed was already half empty, and instead, was the cutest little post it that was stuck on the lamp shade next to our bed, with a perfect sunflower right next to it.

I had no idea where he had found a fresh sunflower right then but reading the note made my heart bloom in more ways than the beautiful flower that was in front of me.

The past is the past. You and I are the future. Sometimes we find happiness in the most unassuming places. So grateful for you and everything you do for me. Alhumdulillah – Z 

My heart was already beating crazily as I read it, remembering the conversation we had the night before about his life and how he didn’t expect to get to where he was right then. Though we spent any free moment he had getting to know about each other, me pushing him to tell me about his childhood, his ambitions and everything I didn’t know, it didn’t ease the pain I felt when I heard it.

His life story was long and tragic and just thinking about it made me feel all sorts of emotional for the little boy that was once so lost. Every trial he faced, every time he felt hurt or rejected, and every little encounter that made him feel less than he was, was designed to build him into a better and stronger person. But it didn’t make it any less pitiful.

It explained why he didn’t always share what he did, or give more of himself. He was secretive to the point of exhaustion, and even thought I desperately wanted to know what he was doing for Hamzah, I knew he would never tell me, which made me resort to sneaky methods of finding out.

That day, Zubair had already left for his early morning routine in the gym Papa had once used at the end of the barn, and I knew that this meant that this was Zubair trying to say that it was time for him to get back to his usual routine, because he was a man who thrived in a disciplined kind of lifestyle.

But the little things still remained, as even in terms of my ibaadat, as I started my day with the Qur’ān that I had brought from home because the one Zubair owned was the one that he took everywhere with him. I had learnt that the reason he did that his reason for this was because whenever there came a time that he needed an answer, all he had to do was open the Qur’ān and all answers would come to him without even having to ask.  All we had to do was trust our Rabb and everything would sort itself out.

And though I missed Zubair already, I ignored the lovesick puppy vibes and dove into my recitation because I knew that whatever trials today would hold could only be solved through that. All success was from Allah. Through the little time we dedicated to Allahs worship during the mornings, we always make intention that it will build the foundation for a successful day.

And that’s what I was psyching myself up for today.

As I peeped in to the coffee shop, watching him see to customers, I couldn’t resist popping in between to offer him little spurts of affection in intermittent doses, despite his protests that I was distracting him.

My heart had been irrevocably stolen by the stories of who he was once… a young boy who lost his mother far too young, and grew up far too jaded than I’d like to think. I wanted to save him, to win him over, and to fix all those broken pieces of him that he couldn’t seem to fit back together himself. But first, I just wanted my sisters marriage to be okay, as much as Zubair himself wanted it.

That said, there were two things that I learnt about Zubair that I knew were most important for the current situation:

One. Zubair was trying every thing he could to save my sisters marriage.

Two. Zubair had painful secrets from the past that he hid excessively well.

What I learnt about myself was that I would stop at nothing to find out every one of those secrets that weighed him down, only so that I could shift the weight off those shoulders off his once and for all.

I had loitered around the coffee shop for most of the day, technically on my day off, but not able to stay away because of who was on duty.

Yes. I was officially obsessed.

Plus, those little love post-it’s were kind of making me swoon every time I caught a glimpse of them.

My mind was also consumed by everything I knew and even what I didn’t yet know, yet the urge to do something about it all was overwhelming me. I wanted Zubair to so badly make up with his father. It was something that I recognised as a deep desire in his heart, but there was something else that I recognised about them. They were both but from the same cloth, and that meant that neither of them was going to make the first move when it came to making up. His father seemed like he was a decent man who had just been scarred by the past. I refused to believe that he wanted nothing to do with his son.

What irked me more was that when I told Zubair that I wanted him to work things out, he had pinched my cheeks and told me that I was too cute for words. And I wanted to hit him.

Zubair was only three years older than I but he acted as if I was a little child. I would show him that I wasn’t. I would show him that I wasn’t a little girl with idealistic ideas and rose tinted glasses. That somehow, those dreams I had and idealistic thoughts would somehow materialise.

Most of all, I wanted Zubair to be the one who would benefit from it. He was the one who ultimately needed the saving. How do I help him, without actually interfering in his life?

I had retreated to the entrance of the kitchen later that morning, bored and needing to see my parents as a distraction. I sat for a few minutes at the back of the garden, under my favourite jacaranda tree, watching the stillness in the distance as the birds teetered around me, digesting everything before I entered the house again. It was weird to stay on the same property as my parents but Papa loved that I was there. Although Zubair had said that he wanted to give me my own house at some stage, he was worried about safety, and there was nowhere else that he felt safer right then.

A single flick of my scarf had loosened a sticky note that was probably stuck on me, and I couldn’t help but smile as I saw it.

You are my favourite place to be. – Z

Swoon.

I blushed and peeled it off to stick it at the back of my phone, catching the arrival of a new message a few minutes ago, hoping it would be my sister who didn’t reply to me from yesterday, but seeing Maahira’s name instead.

I instantly opened the message because it had been that long since I heard from her, and I really had missed her since I came from London. We’d barely chatted.

Maahira: Jamz. R u done swooning over your new man? Are the pyjamas stil in one piece? *winking emoji*
Where is my friend? I have some big news 2share.

I typed back a quick reply.

Stop. You’re making me blush. Mos is awol. I’m hoping her husband romanced her into oblivion. Tell me instead.

I knew it wasn’t fair but Maahira was making me curious and I really wanted to know her big news.

Maahira: Der have been some developments in the Samoosa run dept. I wanted her opinion.

Me: What about my opinion?

I waited a few seconds for Maahira’s reply.

We love you, Jameela, but you’re way too sweet and unassuming 2 handle this kind of drama.

Should I have been offended? This sweet and innocent perception of me was actually starting to get to me. Literally everyone …. And that means from my parents, to Mos and even Zubair, felt this insane and unfair need to shelter me from the world. It was as if they didn’t believe that I could handle reality.

My phone buzzed again.

Maahira: Let me know when you chat 2 her.  N tel her 2 stop ignoring her social media apps. I hav a feelin that Hamzah’s non-existence is rubbing off onto her. She hasn’t been online since yest.

Hamzah hated social media, and everyone knew that. And also, I was beginning to hate everyone treating me like a child.

I typed back quickly. Although she had literally called me an inexperienced infant, I needed to desperately confide in someone. I didn’t have many friends that I could speak to about this, and Mohsina was completely ignoring her phone.

Me: Wait, don’t go.

I typed quickly before she could ignore me. There was so much on my mind and there was no one better to ask right now but Maahi. It was a moment of truth.

I need to ask you about something important. I heard Zubair talking to Faadil on the phone. I wanted to know something.

Maahira’s reply took a while.

Maahira: Mhm. Can’t say I kno awl the answers..

But she may know this one.

Me: I just wanted to know who broke it off between him and Mos. He seemed to think that he was the one who didn’t want it anymore. But I remember otherwise when he came back for her. I feel he’s covering something up and Zubair is telling me nothing so I can’t even clear it up. 

Somehow, after knowing that Zubair was onto Faadil, I got this strange feeling that it was really important that I knew the truth. The fear that Faadil was actually sabotaging her relationship, with the help of who-knows-what-else, was haunting me.

Maahira’s reply took a while to come, but when it did, it was a lot to digest.

All I remember was Mos waiting for him at the apartment da one night after he met up with some woman (don’t ask, you’re too young for this talk and it was awkward asl to bring it up with her), and the next morning, she was at da hospital when Layyanah passed away, and she never mentioned him after. If I know Mos, I assumed she would have told the tiger on the prowl to take a hike coz she had too much else on her mind than to worry about him gettin what he wanted elsewhere. The next thing, her and Hamzah were fighting over who would be da better parent to Zaidoo n the rest is history.

I smiled at the last part, ignoring the wrenching in my gut at the mention of Faadil’s constant infidelity. Haraam always comes back to bite you in the behind, and I made a silent Duaa thanking Allah Ta’ala that I hadn’t went with my nafs and got to know Zubair before Nikah. The fact that everything was halaal and untainted was something that brought me immense comfort. I could not imagine the torment that Hamzah and Mohsina sometimes went through. Yes, they had both been wrong and been involved in haraam, but they made it right and I just hoped that they didn’t have to pay for it.

Even though it was history, from what I heard overheard Zubair say on the phone, it seemed like it wasn’t history to Faadil. He seemed to think that it was still unfinished business that desperately needed digging up.

I got up and typed in a quick reply to Maahira, thanking her for telling me and knowing that I would have to dig up more from Zubair if I wanted to help. I just wished that he trusted me more to let me in on everything that he was doing.

I slowly ventured into the house as I tucked my phone in my pocket, feeling a little out of sorts as I thought about everything Maahira had said. Hamzah and Mohsina were perfect for each other. Everything had proven that, and now that Mohsina had changed so much, I knew that if things were to go back to her being alone, she would become that distant and unreachable career woman once again.

Pushing the kitchen door open, I had to blink again before I noticed Nani sitting on the chair in the middle of the kitchen, silently getting on with her task.

“Oh,” Nani said as she heard my greeting, her voice slightly strained as she looked up at me with a toss of her dupatta and she studied me way too briefly for my liking, walking into the kitchen with loose sweat pants and a tee. “So you decide to make appearance now. After two days, it’s like we don’t know who you are anymore.”

I rolled my eyes to myself as I came around to greet her. It was technically one full day. But if Nani saw me with my eyeballs halfway into my head, I would have never heard the end of it.

I peeped over her shoulder as I went to switch the kettle on, watching her rolling something, her fingers folding some new type of Samoosa. Now that the wedding was over, Nani had immediately gone back into Ramadhaan mode and the preparations put a sweet sense of tranquility in the air.

I loved this time of the year, that held so much of hope and opportunity. When the hearts would be cured from worldly obsessions, and the starving souls would be nourished once again.

Ramadhaan was coming and I could feel the sweetness seeping into the pores of my skin, hoping that my body would take the message and start sowing the seeds for the new month that was to come. I had to rid myself of all evil thoughts and throw myself into the parts where I prepared myself for nights of ibaadat and days of soul-cleansing. I could feel the illness in my heart that needed to be cured.  I was deeply in need of reformation and I could barely wait for the effect penetrate. I knew that I had to start somehow, and I made intention to start sowing now, so that I could reap the fruits in Ramadhaan.

Trying to shove away all putrid thoughts was step number one and as I tried my best to stop judging Nani’s obsession with savouries, and start to focus on myself. In fact, I was becoming so good at focusing on my own faults for those few minutes, as I rounded the corner of the kitchen isle, that I didn’t even notice how quiet the house was right then.

I hadn’t spoke to my parents from the previous evening and I had been pretty much absorbed in the dramas that Zubair had uncovered about Mohsina and Hamzah’s marriage. It was all still on my mind, that I barely even noticed Nani’s eyes looking slightly puffy and red, as she dabbed it with a tissue.

It took me a few minutes to actually process what was going on, as I watched her, eyes squinted, still not able to fully comprehend the situation. Whatever I thought I was seeing was a very rare occurrence, and were it not for the obvious signs, I would have probably thought I was seeing things, but very clearly noting that Nani was emotional, was an absolute shock to me.

Nani didn’t usually get emotional. Ever. Yes, she did have tantrums and get upset when we didn’t listen to her. She sometimes even manipulated us into doing things we never really wanted to do. But for her to actually express an emotion that spelt some kind of grief, was extremely rare. To see it, in the flesh, was something that literally sent a shiver down my spine.

What on earth was going on?

I had missed out something major while I was busy honeymooning with Zubair, and for the first time, I actually regretted being so obsessed with my roguishly handsome husband.

Perhaps if I’d paid a little attention other members in the household, I would have known exactly what was going on. I looked at Nani, questions swimming in my eyes as she refused to meet my eye, understanding that there was probably a deeper reason for Ma and Papa being absent this morning.

“Nani,” I said, my voice shaky as I watched her almost robotically folding the square Samoosa, her gestures stunted and almost involuntary. I hadn’t noticed when I first entered, but now it was clear as day.

She sniffed and looked up at me, and I could tell without a doubt, that something major had happened.

“Nani, what’s happened?!” I asked, my voice almost frantic as I turned her shoulders to me, desperate for an answer. “Is everything okay? Where’s Papa?!”

Obviously, my first thought went to Papa, because there really was no other reason that could have evoked such a reaction.

”Papa is gone to Mohsina,” she said, her voice steady but feeling like a knife slicing through the air as she said my sister’s name. “To try and talk to her to change Hamzah’s mind.”

The puzzle pieces were slowly fitting into place.

Oh no. They knew about Hamzah and Mohsina. This explained it. It was all falling into place until I remembered what Nani had just said. As far as I knew, Hamzah wasn’t the one who wanted to leave. Why would they change his mind?

“To change Hamzah’s mind?!” I asked, looking at her in confusion. I understood the anger but Nani was just a little bit too bitter for me to digest. “Shouldn’t he be telling Mohsina to reconsider?”

Nani glared at me as I said it, shaking her head and clenching her fist as she said her next words.

”Hamzah was just here,” she whimpered in despair. “He came to greet me, and your parents. For good. He’s taking Zaid to his parents. Too much has happened, Jameela. It’s all Mohsina’s fault. I don’t know why Allah is punishing me like this…”

She broke down as she said it, and my heart contracted painfully as I watched her, holding my Nani as she wept into my shoulder, not even knowing what to say as I glimpsed a shadow at the back door.

“It’s just a test, Nani,” I said softly, not able to control the tears running down my own cheeks. “It’s only a test, and we’ll get through this. It will all be okay…”

Doesnt Allah say that He will test us? Are not all our luxuries just favours Allah has given us out of His mercy?

Indeed, He says that He will test us. With every single thing we own.

And certainly, We shall test you with something of fear, hunger, loss of wealth, lives and fruits, but give glad tidings to As-Sabirun (the patient).

Who, when afflicted with calamity, say: “Truly! To Allah we belong and truly, to Him we shall return.”

They are those on whom are the Salawat (i.e. who are blessed and will be forgiven) from their Lord, and (they are those who) receive His Mercy, and it is they who are the guided ones.”

(Quran, Surah al-Baqarah, 2:155-157)

“Make Sabr, Nani,” I whispered, trying to coax myself at the same time, not knowing if I could hold it together much longer. Hoping that this was just a little speedbump that would be sorted out when I spoke to Mohsina.

My own voice was shaky and uncertain as Zubair’s face rounded the corner right then, and it shocked me that I already knew him so well just by seeing his expression.

From by the slight slumping of his shoulders, I could already see the defeatist attitude that had overcome him, and that wasn’t something that Zubair often wore. I wasn’t sure how I had missed him, but it was as if the visit of Hamzah had brought so much more than he had ever imagined, and not in a positive way.

I breathed in as I consoled Nani, hoping that my parents could work some miracles, but knowing from the look in my husband’s eyes as he approached us, that this was a dead loss.

“Zubair, tell me it’s not true,” I murmured, swallowing back the emotion that was threatening to overcome me as I let go of Nani, reaching out to grasp his hand. “Tell me that Hamzah hasn’t changed his mind about saving their marriage.”

Zubair merely shook his head, avoiding my gaze as his browner iris lightened as he looked up at Nani’s emotional state, knowing that this wasn’t such a littel thing after all.

“I’m so sorry, Jameela,” he said softly. “I tried to do everything I can, but Hamzah already made up his mind. Something else came up last night.  He’s already signed the papers.”

---

Dearest Readers

My sincerest apologies about the delayed post. I could just not stay awake last night.

My deepest appreciation for all the readers who love this blog and await the posts and my only hope is that we all go home with the lessons that we learn and try and implement them. Please keep this weak author in your Duaas.

Much Love

A x

Mission Sunnah Revival: Thinking well of others 

Especially as these blessed months dawn upon us, we make extra effort to think good of others and make excuses for them. It’s easier said than done but we make Duaa that in this way, people will also think well of us.

Nabi Muhammad (Sallahu Alaihi wa Sallam) said, “Beware of suspicion, for suspicion is the worst of false tales; and do not look for the others’ faults and do not spy, and do not be jealous of one another, and do not desert (cut your relation with) one another, and do not hate one another; and O Allah’s worshipers! Be brothers (as Allah has ordered you!”) (Bukhari)

To put it briefly, having good opinion of people implies:

• Thinking positive of others
• Avoiding suspicion and wrong assumptions of others
• Giving others the benefit of the doubt

Sunnah of the month of Rajab 

Sayyiduna Anas Ibn Malik (radiyallahu’anhu) reports that Rasulullah (sallallahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) would recite the following supplication when the Month of Rajab would commence:

اَللّٰهُمَّ  بَارِكْ لَناَ فِيْ رَجَبٍ وَشَعْبانَ وَبَلّغْنَا رَمَضَانْ

Allahumma baarik lana fi Rajaba wa Sha’bana wa balligh-na Ramadan

Translation: Oh Allah! Grant us Barakah (Blessing) during (the months of) Rajab and Sha’ban, and allow us to reach Ramadan.

(Shu’abul-Iman, Hadith: 3534, Ibnu Sunni, Hadith: 660, Mukhtasar Zawaid Bazzar, Hadith: 662, also see Al-Adhkar, Hadith: 549)

Someone asked Ali (RA): “How much was the Sahaba’s love for the Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam)”

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..💕

#RevivetheSunnah

#RevivetheSunnahofbeingGrateful

#RevivetheSunnahofQur’aanTilaawat

#ReviveSunnahofDuaa

#SunnahofMaintainingTies

#RevivetheSunnahofSadaqah

#RevivetheSunnahofGivingGifts

#RevivetheSunnahofGoodAkhlaaq

#RevivetheSunnahbeforeSleeping

#RevivetheSunnahofGuardingtheGaze

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

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The Tip of the Iceberg

Bismihi Ta’ala

Part 60

Hamzah

At some point, we all have to stop being consumed by moments.

In the understanding that nothing in this temporary world is limitless or perfect, we are somehow able to step outside the moments and see them for what they are. Sometimes what we can see, especially in this world of illusion we have come to live in, is not even the whole picture… but only the tip of the iceberg…

And it just so happened that it was only during that eventful weekend on the coast that the true meaning of contentment unfolded for me. No matter how much you fill your life with the best of this world, if Allah doesn’t feature, you will never feel complete. If Qur’ān, Salaah and Ibadat is lacking, we will never feel fulfilled. As we try filling the void with our virtual applications that take over our lives, we are always left feeling at a loss.

And though I usually looked forward to long drives and the peace it brought within me, while I was able to catch up with my Qur’ān and just chill out while doing dhor, if I heard that word Instagram one more time during the three hour drive down to  the coast, I was seriously thinking of opening the drivers door and just jumping off the moving vehicle.

And okay, I know I’m an idiot, but to tell the truth, I had been just a little preoccupied and I couldn’t help but overlook the fact that perhaps my wife wasn’t exactly thrilled about the sudden change of events either.

”You don’t mind if I give Hamzah company in the front, right Mos?” My sister said sweetly, pinching Zaid’s cheeks as he grabbed her head cover in a fist and then screamed at her bossily when she tried to pull away.

I tried to miss the part where Mohsina raised her eyebrows.

“Or you can give Zaid some company in the back,” Mohsina said in a casual fashion, trying my best to keep a straight face as I saw Mohsina narrow her eyes.

The truth was, I didn’t anticipate the dynamic between the two of them. I didn’t even think of these things because my week was a complete knock out.

On top of the financial concern over my wife and our ex-boss, moving money around from various accounts to make payments after I had forked out a sum for a surprise for Mohsina without knowing, was the worry that had consumed me from this morning. It was the previous night that I had found an e-mail from Hashim’s lawyer, for a hearing that entailed giving them rights to see Zaid, at the precise time that Rabia’s message about joining us had also come through.

The pressure was mounting as I thought of how Hashim had attempted in the past few weeks to threaten me multiple times, but I was barely fazed until the that mornings document came through. The nightmares I thought I had gotten rid of had returned, and as I awoke, I was literally shaking with anger as I gritted my teeth, trying to exceptionally hard to ignore the anger brewing within.

I honestly felt like escaping with Mohsin to wherever he was heading to next, just to get away from it all, but I knew that it wasn’t exactly the most mature thing to do. Besides, I couldn’t leave Mohsina and Zaid now. I didn’t want to.

“Geez, you guys,” Rabia said excitedly, pushing up her sunglasses and adjusting her weird turban cap thing-um with a big knot on the top that she sometimes wore. “I’m so excited to be seeing the beach after ages. Like a real Jo’burg person. Mos, did you see that reel.. the guys going crazy as they saw the beach and doing all these crazy things?!”

Rabia had recovered quickly from having to sit in the back seat, but she was also pushing limits when she started the conversation either way. I had my pods in my ears and barely even caught onto what she was into.

”Mhhmmm,” Mohsina said, and I didn’t even register the note of disinterest in her voice. It was a default tone for her not wanting to fully engage in a conversation and I knew it extremely well.

I had glimpsed my wife’s stony expression in the rear view mirror that day and with Mohsina, it wasn’t all that difficult to tell. Her pretty face would get all flushed when you provoked her and her one talent was the ability to act as if nothing was wrong, when there clearly was something very wrong.

You okay?

The message I had just typed out to send her made a small ping in the back of the car, and as I glanced at my rear-view mirror, I couldn’t help but smirk as I saw the usual and intentional roll of her eyes and toss her phone aside.

Just a moment ago, she had picked it up to check something, but as soon as she saw my message, I already knew that there would be no easy way of dodging her bullets.

Oh yeah. She was annoyed. Though I didn’t entirely understand Instagram dramas and how they work, I knew that she had also been a little down because of some dodgy things that were going on there.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I felt the urge to light a cigarette, knowing that it would only exacerbate things if I did.

I sighed, knowing that although I knew that she was seemingly upset and overreacting a little, the drama that now ensued was a welcome diversion from the the burden on my shoulders that had felt this morning, and as Rabia’s voice broke through my thoughts as I closed my Qur’ān application for a minute, I couldn’t help but find myself listening in on what they were saying once again, as much as I didn’t want to be…

”And oh my word, did you see those amazing places they visited in Dubai? You guys have to go there when you make a honeymoon trip!”

Honeymoon trip? Was it some unwritten rule that we had to go overseas?

“And I don’t know if you saw the other influencer,” she continued. “The one from Cape Town who did those ads for Adidas… she went all out with her trip, recording every little detail of it which was so helpful so you know exactly what to expect at every stop. From the business class lunges to the airports, food and edutainment… It’s makes it so simple when you’re travelling… I wonder if all her hotels were sponsored, gosh… don’t you miss those free trips Mohsina? I’m sure you used to get a helluva lot of freebies…”

I wasn’t sure what Rabia was getting at, and it was a seemingly innocent question, but I was already irritated at Rabia digging up social media dirt. I couldn’t help but hear a tone of accusation in her question, wondering if it was coincidental.

It tuned out at that point, not really wanting to listen, preferring to put my Qur’ān back on. Honestly, it was like Rabia now lived her own life through those moments of the instagram slaves she scrolled through as she spent time on her delusional application, filling some huge void for validation.

I frowned, wondering if this was going into dangerous territory. I could tell that Rabia watched people live seemingly cool and passionate lives online, judging herself against it, thinking it was real.

And I wanted to argue but with Rabia I knew there was no point as I plugged the pods back in my ears and we had just turned onto the coastal road which boasted the most stunning shoreline I had seen in months. All our eyes were already glued to the coastline, and the incredible Qur’ān recital playing in my ears heightened its appeal significantly.

The miracle of the Word of our Rabb was that no matter how many times we listened, we never tired of it…

And being here, with the salty air filling my nostrils as I opened the window, I already felt a huge relief within my chest. To top it off, Mohsina’s  mood no longer mattered because I already knew that once everything was settled and I took her out on the knockout lookout which used to be my favourite spot as a teenager, she would have no choice but to lighten up. I mean, there was no way she would see such beauty and not be moved by it.

I ignored Rabia as I caught her opening her phone, trying to focus on my intense relief as I finally reached the driveway of my grandparents place, because it meant that she was probably saved from me completely losing it. Thank goodness she would be getting off now, and I felt my stress levels immediately decline as I thought of it.

And as I drove up the slight incline, already pulling out my cigarettes because I knew that I would be craving after the long and tiresome drive, I couldn’t help but smile as I saw my grandparents coming out the front door, like they always would, ever since I was a kid.

And while many grandkids were close to their maternal grandparents, for me, it just so happened that I was the opposite way. For me, the coast had been my favorite getaway, a home away from home and the one place that I couldn’t cope without seeing for an entire month.

When I had learnt to drive, it was the first long distance trip I took out, and I truly believed that it was for this place being my favourite that my grandparents, even in their older age, never moved away from here, and I was honestly so glad.

And as I helped my wife out, already seeing Dada and Dadi making their way toward the car to receive us, I couldn’t help but feel elated that they could finally see me at this stage of my life, all grown up and together with my family. I knew that I was lucky to have them both with me, and many other guys my age didn’t get this.

And at the risk of sounding a little too emotional, the thing with Dada and Dadi was that there was a host of things that made me really attached to them. Life hadn’t been easy for them. My grandparents were always struggling to make ends meet. My father grew up in a poor home, and Dada had worked many different jobs to come out at the end of the month. It was him and seven other siblings, and even though Dadi had a small home business through which she subsidised their income, somehow it was still difficult. My father started working from a really young age, battling in many different ways before he finally found his feet in business when I was a kid and bought my grandparents this place close to my older uncle’s house, which they loved with all their heart.

And as I watched them, I realized that it had been over a month since I’d seen them and I had barely realized how much I really missed them.

In the bright afternoon sunshine, as they slowly approached us, it seemed like the first time that I’d noticed the little creased lines that became more prominent on their faces. My heart contracted slightly as I gazed at them up close, and as I sling my arm around Dada’s shoulders, I couldn’t help but be grateful that he was actually here to see this part of my life.

“Your Dadi couldn’t wait for you’ll to get here,” he said with a lobsided smile, patting my back affectionately. “She’s been in the kitchen from the minute she heard, making all your favourites.”

I instantly felt my heart swelling with love for her, at the same time as my stomach attempted to growl.

And as I glanced at her, with her hazel-brown eyes that still shone as brightly as they ever did, I knew that a simple greeting wouldn’t do, as I saw her smile at me with the same love she never failed to show since I was a kid, I knew I had no choice but to lean forward for a massive  hug, not expecting her voice to sound so emotional  as she spoke.

“Missed you, Hamzoo,” she said softly, using the nickname she always had as pecked her soft cheek, and I could feel the overwhelming emotion with which she meant her words.

Dadi was a woman of few words, but she was never the type to miss a thing. And as she hastily turned to meet my wife and Zaid, I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening to my heart at that point, because I barely realised how important this meeting was for me.

I briefly watched my two favourite people embrace for a minute, feeling a weird sensation in my heart as Dadi looked at me and then Zaid, almost as if she couldn’t believe how far I had come now, a family of my own with all these responsibilities…

I turned away as they spoke softly… intently…. And as Mohsina and Dadi walked along together a little, I already knew that I didn’t have anything to fear about them getting along, especially as I just finished pulling along the suitcases into the house and went back out to check on them, I was already feeling more settled.

“This place is amazing,” Mohsina was saying as I approached them, her mood already lifted as she gazed out to the stunningly blue seas that could be seen from wherever we stood. It was one of those days when the sky was achingly flawless, and the vastness of it simply took our breath away.

We hadn’t even entered the house yet, which boasted some of the most scenic views, and my wife was already completely mesmerized by the charm this amazing place held. Living on the coast was just a completely different experience altogether.

And I knew that I was jumping the gun, but seeing that Rabia had made herself useful and taken Zaid to Dada for a little walk around the yard, and knowing that there was still time for Asr Salaah, I knew that there was no better time that the present to get out there and be a little adventurous. As much as I wanted to tuck into Dadi’s famous cuisines, I really wanted to grab the last bits of sunlight before the day ended.

”Dee,” I said, calling my grandmother by her nickname as I placed my hand on her shoulders, feeling the frailness of her body as I held her, not really believing that my grandmother was already in her seventies.

They were sitting in the bench overlooking the ocean view, but seeing it all from this point wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to get closer already, to submerge myself in the beauty it boasted.

“Would you like to join us for a walk to the lookout?”

Dadi smiled and shook her head.

“Your Dada and I just went this morning,” she said with her usual lazy smile. “It’s such a beautiful day. Take Mohsina. Yesterday we spotted some dolphins, and you may get lucky again…”

I could see Mohsina’s eyes widening as I glanced at her and grinned, trying to figure out if she had forgiven me or not. Either way, at the mention of dolphins, it had the desired effect and I knew she couldn’t refuse joining me. At least I wouldn’t have to spend on hour grovelling and trying to make it up to her. I mean, who doesn’t love dolphins?

And as for me, I was hoping that the beauty and peace it brought would help her to forget all the drama of the past week.

And grabbing her by the wrist, without even giving her a chance to argue in my grandmothers presence, I had already pulled her toward the gate we usually used to get onto the beach path.

“Hey, what about Zaid?” She said seriously, looking back as she watched Dada entertaining him as he let out a few giggles.

He had settled so well in the past few weeks, and I was so glad that he was a friendly kid. Being out in the open now after that trip was all he needed right now.

”He’ll be fine,” I said softly, pulling her along despite her resistance. “He’s in good hands.”

She let out a frustrated sigh as she pulled her hand away from me, but went along with me anyway. I couldn’t help but smile as I glanced up at the skies, pulling on my cap and glancing at her stubborn expression.

And because the path to the beach was exceptionally close and as we walked down silently, falling into step with each other, I couldn’t help but find myself reaching out for her hand again. It had become such a natural thing that I barely even realised it, and as she allowed my fingers to grip hers, I couldn’t help but conceal a smile as I snuck a look at her stormy face. And even though she was annoyed with me, I couldn’t help but think of how gorgeous my wife looked right then, as she refused to meet my eye.

I cracked a smile as she scowled at me as we stopped to take off our shoes, knowing that I wasn’t completely off the hook for my last minute stunt anyway. Taking a step closer to her, I traced my thumb over the outline of her jaw, forcing her to look at me angrily while she lifted her hand to swat mine away.

She was so stubborn sometimes that she made me laugh.

”I didn’t mean to pounce on you,” I said softly, catching her eye as she looked back at me. At that point, her eyes were filled with so much of honesty and sincerity that I didn’t quite have it in me to just ignore her little tantrum.

After that drive and all the social media obsession, I was actually really regretting letting Rabia come along with us.

Mohsina stayed silent as I watched her for a moment, when she was hastily started feeling her pockets, and I knew exactly what she was looking for.

“Oh gosh, I forgot my…”

I smiled as she trailed off, knowing exactly where I had left both our phones, and well aware that I had purposely intended to leave all technology behind today. I just wanted to sit there, under the streaky skies, watching the riders of the sea crashing against the waters, roaring away with every new wave…

And because I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, I turned my gaze to the view of that had already captivated her, watching her eyes fix on the tide that was endlessly ebbing and flowing, as we gazed at it together. The sound of the seaside captured us from every side, echoing off the rocks surrounding us.

For a moment there, the entire world melted away as the rhythmic sound of the ocean overcame my senses, and like an old friend, meeting once again at the shore… being out there had already calmed me and settled me incomparably. The oceans embrace had cleared my mind and already gave me a new perspective on what had been worrying me.

”How vast is this ocean?” Mohsina said softly, and I couldn’t help but swallow emotion as I gazed out at the limitless waters that seemed to go beyond eternity.

How vast is Allah Ta’alas Arsh? How vast was His creation?

Allah’s Messengerﷺ said,

“When Allah completed the creation, He wrote in His Book which is with Him on His Throne, “My Mercy overpowers My Anger.”

(Bukhari)

“Imagine how vast is His mercy,” I whispered as I let my eyes feast on my favorite refuge, unable to withhold my amazement for that minute.

We could barely understand it. What we could see was only the tip of the iceberg. What we understood was only a meagre and minimal part of what really existed. It truly boggles the mind. None can fathom the greatness of Allah, and as I looked out, I could only imagine the beautiful array of marine life and coral that lined the ocean floor like a limitless burst of magic beneath the surface. Who knew what splendour lay beyond those enticing waters?

The thing was that everything becomes a lesson for us, when we are in tune with Allah’s greatness. Every ebb, every ripple, every whiff of salty breeze… every tiny creature or little rustle in the trees behind us… all becomes a means of looking to Allāh’s greatness and magnificence.

And as we stepped over, along the little bridge that served as an entrancing lookout to the open seas, it was no secret that Mohsina was completely captivated by the beauty the was before us. Its infinite beauty just got more and more intense, with every step we took as the seas spread before us in all their glory, and being there again reminded me of how much I loved this place as a teenager.

And as the wind picked up slightly, I pulled off my puffer jacket to put around my wife’s shoulders, while she smiled gratefully and  I saw her then in a completely different light. I realised why I kept bringing her to my favourite places. I realised that I was letting her into more and more of my world, and as I saw her out here, in the open, or out in the wilderness, the affection of nature having its effect on her, it reminded me again if the girl I sometimes saw beyond that determined go-getter.

Beneath it all, there was a softness within her when she let herself give in to nature, when she embraced the free spirit within her, and for a minute, I glimpsed that vulnerability once again. It was the only reason why I kept taking her out to the places I loved. It was the one time I saw her letting go of the shackles that the world and social media had captured her with. It was the only time that I witnessed her as herself.

And while I thought of it, being here with my wife made me excited, and scared, all at the same time. She had come so far… conquered so much, but this past week had been difficult to deal with everything that had happened. She was all cut up about recent events and how that virtual life could suck you back in became a concern for me…

“Can you see that bird on the wave?” I said softly, pointing to a white seagull that was playing around in the choppy waters, my eyes not leaving it for all that time, as it swam on its appointed wave. An amazing thought struck me as I did…

Mohsina’s dark eyes turned to look at the seagull, and a small smile flashed on her face as she did.

She nodded as we both fixed our eyes on it, her hands now tighter around mine as she watched it fluttering around, riding the wave and balancing expertly as it rose and fell once again.

I took a deep breath, hoping to relate what I meant as best I could.

“I once heard an Aalim say that everything in nature has a lesson for us,” I said softly, my eyes not leaving the scene before us, as I spoke. “And I was thinking… You know… Life is so uncertain. Unpredictable. Difficult at times. We all face challenges, get hurt, fall to our knees… But like how the bird stays on its intended spot, not matter what the conditions… on the crest of the wave, battling to keep his momentum but still succeeding… We too should battle through the tests and the turbulence to keep ourselves on track, to always be struggling with our Nafs… no matter what challenges we face…”

It was normal to slip. To fall. To find ourselves flat out on our backs at times. But we keep getting up. Even after we fail, after we sin, after we find ourselves feeling like we’ve lost the battle completely… there’s always getting up again, and until we leave his world, it’s still never the end.

She looked at me, and I didn’t meet her eye as I said it.

The thing was, life was a constant battle. We always face challenges. Shaytaan is always out to trap us. And after the past week, I was scared of losing Mohsina to what she used to be. I was scared that with the influence around her and with so much that was threatening to destroy her, she was going to get lost in that world that she had once been submerged in once again. I was scared that my sister was having a bad influence of her too. I was so scared that she was going to start losing herself, and this time, I wouldn’t be able to save her. How do you save someone from their own self ?

I mean, I knew that the decision to marry her was because I could see something shifting within her. What I didn’t want was being back at that point where I felt like I was fighting a losing battle.

I was scared. And it wasn’t even about losing the battle anymore. I was more scared because from someone who was completely averse to emotion, I could actually feel something for Mohsina that I never felt before.

And I never believed in love, but if you ever had to ask me, this thing that was starting to take over my heart, was probably the closest thing to it that I ever felt.

I pushed away all stray thoughts as I shoved my hand into my pocket as I breathed out, pulling out the box that was in there for the past few days, knowing that I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this.

I had it with me since the previous week knowing that I was waiting for the right time to give it to her, and right then… well, it just felt right. Also, I knew that it would be a good diversion.

“I’ve got something for you,” I said as I turned toward her, not knowing what else to say, as she finally turned to me, I could tell for a moment as that this was something she didn’t see coming.

She widened her eyes and swallowed silently, stunned as she stared at the diamond stone set in a band of white gold that I had purchased just a week ago. It was something that I knew we hadn’t done when we had gotten married because everything was so sudden and unconventional, and though it was seriously delayed, I always wanted her to wear a band like other married couples do. It was just something I felt passionate about. The whole ring exchange thing hadn’t happened for us, but I really wanted to give her one.

She was still staring for a minute as she looked as me and then at the ring, her eyes glistening as she met me eye. And I had purposely done this very casually and I had no idea what was so emotional for her, but I knew women were strange so I barely even thought much of it as she finally opened her mouth to speak.

And of all the things I had expected her to say, I never expected what she said next.

“Hamzah, no,” she said briefly, closing her eyes and shaking her head as she snapped the box shut. Of all the things, it was the furthest from what I expected.

I couldn’t help but frown as I watched her turn away, trying to figure out what on earth went on in this woman’s mind.

For me, I just felt that we hadn’t exactly done everything the right way around, and of all the things I really wanted.. well, this was one. To be an actual married couple with the formalities and the ornaments, even though it was a little extra, well.. it wasn’t like it was wrong.

“I can’t,” she stammered, her voice shaky and I couldn’t even understand why. “It’s too much, I’m costing you too much, Hamzah. I’m sure you didn’t intend on doing all this…”

The money. She was still worried about the money, when I told her she didn’t have to. It was true that this month had stretched me, but I had a plan for my finances.

And I knew that she still doubted me, but I really and truly believed that we could make this situation a perfect one. I just wished that she could too.

She was still shaking her head, as she turned away and faced the open seas, which seemed to be getting choppier with each passing moment. Their storminess was having an immense effect on my mood and I shoved the box back in my pocket, not knowing what else to do. I was angry and annoyed.

What was it with this woman? Why did she always challenge me? Every time I felt like we were getting one step closer, it seemed like it was two steps back. Here I was, slowly opening up to her more and more, and it seemed like all Mohsina was intent on doing was putting up wall after wall…

It was already a few moments of silence that had passed before I felt her hands snaking around my waist, and before I even knew it, she had already delved into my pocket.

The box was already opened and without another word, she already pulled the ring over her slender finger, gazing at it for a second as I looked at her and raised my eyebrows, wondering what it was that made her tick.

Truly, my wife was one of the most complicated conundrums for me, but as I looked at her, I couldn’t help but laugh at her ridiculous temperament. At that point, I was more vulnerable in her presence than I had ever been.

I mean, who says no to a diamond ring?

“Right from the first day I met you at Hammonds,” I said, shaking my head and pulling her closer to me, trying to swallow the emotions that she had brought on in the last few minutes. “You annoyed me more than anyone in the world, Mos, but I still want to spend every irritating moment with you.”

It’s true that when I first met her, she was one of the people who I would try to avoid at work. I supposed it was because she was so focused and driven and trying so hard to be at the top. She always went all out for everything, even though I knew that for a woman, it was always much harder to get to where they wanted to be.

Women empowerment was her thing. Her passion. Her reason for pushing herself as far as she had and getting where she did in her career.
And though she kept proving to me, what she didn’t realise was that the minute she had put her own desires aside to tend to Zaid, and bring up our son, her status for me was already on Saint level. Thats all she had to do. I mean, women fought so hard in every avenue, but all Allah Ta’ala asks of them is to please their husband, and their Jannah is made.

Simple and so easy.

And that’s what made her all the more special for me. That’s what made even the things that never made sense to us, finally make sense.

She finally grinned as I watched her stick her tongue out at me, but there was a certain something brewing in her eyes as she did.

“You’re my happily ever after,” I said simply, hoping to make her smile but as I said it, it was as if something in her shifted and all of a sudden, she turned away, almost as if she was shying away from something that I had no idea about.

Did I say something wrong?

“Mohsina,” I said, frowning as I watched her, confusion creeping over me. “Is everything okay?”

”I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her hand as she tried to move away from me.

”What?” I asked, frustrated now, my eyes searching hers for answers.

Any answer. Any reason. Just something, dammit.

And unbeknownst to me, the whole trip here was turning out to be a bit more than I bargained for. I didn’t realise that Rabia being with us had brought on a whole lot more than what I anticipated, and that much more was said that I had no idea of.
I wasn’t even aware that what Mohsina was about to say was only the tip of the iceberg, and within the crevices of her pained heart there was much that was still left unsaid.

She stepped back, leaning on the balustrade as she pulled my jacket tighter around her, almost as if she was harnessing some kind of turbulence that was wrecking havoc within.

And then she took a deep breath, and finally met my eye.

“I have something to tell you.”

---

Dearest readers…

A little bit of drama to unfold… but let’s see how Mohsina finds her way out of this one… Any pointers on whether she should reveal it all or not?

Request for Duaas

Much Love

A xx

Mission Sunnah Revival

Sunnah of Time Management:

We come into this world with an allocated amount of time. We should, ideally, spend this time to please Allah and strive toward our Aakhirah.

Among the harms of social media are the harms of time wasting.

May Allah Ta’ala enable us to be particular even about our digital time, and save us wasting our time on these frivolous activities.

Oh son of Adam. You are nothing but a number of days. Whenever a day passes, another day has gone. (Fadhaail e Sadaqaat)

Someone asked Ali (RA): “How much was the Sahaba’s love for the Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi wa Sallam)”

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..💕

#RevivetheSunnah

#RevivetheSunnahofbeingGrateful

#RevivetheSunnahofQur’aanTilaawat

#ReviveSunnahofDuaa

#SunnahofMaintainingTies

#RevivetheSunnahofSadaqah

#RevivetheSunnahofGivingGifts

#RevivetheSunnahofGoodAkhlaaq

#RevivetheSunnahbeforeSleeping

#RevivetheSunnahofGuardingtheGaze

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah

The Simple Things

Bismihi Ta’ala

Part 41
Mohsina

Sometimes we get so caught up in life that we forget that we don’t always need to be busy, to be rushing to the next thing or to keep on checking our phones or e-mails. Sometimes we need to remind ourselves that it’s okay to slow down, to pause, to take a break and to take notice of the little things that aren’t so little.

Sometimes we don’t realize someone’s prayer that saved us from falling deeper. Or a smile that came through for us when we needed it most. Or a a simple kind word that made a difference to someone’s difficult day.

The simple things, sometimes, can take us a long way.

And yes, for me, there was a time in life when I stopped worrying about the simple things, and stopped caring what people think. When I shifted my focus, when I got detached from people, and built that wall that kept me an arms length away… at any given time.

Watching my father being held, at gun point when I was 18 years old, when nothing we had was good enough to invoke any mercy, had shifted something within me.

It was from that point on that I decided that I would be fearless. Unyielding. Unattached. I supposed that was my coping mechanism.

When it came to suitors, to family, friendships, and to Hamzah too… I never risked digging my hopes in so deep that coming out would prove to be any sorts of painful.

I always knew that people could leave. Come and go as they pleased. Leave each other, and never return. It was something I’d realised from listening to friends talking about relationships or being a little too cautious for my own liking. 

And so, instead of focusing on the One who never leaves, that’s when I shifted my focus to things. Shoes, handbags and accessories were easiest to deal with. People, to me, were the problem. 

So when the blues got to me, as I sat in my room, one day in Ramadhaan, it took me a little by surprise.

And maybe it was a combination of my mind finally attuning to reality, and also being the time of the month and the emotions that came with it… all I knew was that it felt like she had left me and the light had followed her. Simply put, whichever way I saw it, there was a gnawing ache in my body which translated to me missing Layyanah immensely.

Suddenly, the world was filled with so much of darkness that it was almost impossible for me to see at all. And as I trudged along, a flickering torch lighting much less of a path than I’d hoped, there were moments when my heart gave in completely.

How much my heart yearned for her advice, her laugh and just her general two cents, I wasn’t even able to fully comprehend, but being so busy with Zaid had filtered it for me, so it wasn’t so obvious.

But then there were the moments. Moments at night when I couldn’t seem to drift off to sleep, where I would stare at the ceiling and wonder how she could  leave me like this. At such a dead loss, completely clueless as to how to even sort out and live my own life, nevermind her little boy’s…

It was the day after Maahira had messaged, when Zaid was still with Hamzah and family, when I had gone down to see if there was anything to munch on (it was that time of the month and I was feeling a little spiritually low, and Maahira was also coming to visit after iftaar so I could explain the whole marriage saga), so I grabbed a packet of cookies just as Nani walked into the kitchen, and gave me one of her eye-balling looks.

I was being my usual unbothered self, as I strutted around the then empty kitchen, looking for something to munch on and to do whilst I heard her voice from behind me that made me jump.

“No roza?” She said with a frown, looking at me, almost accusingly. Nani was looking at me accusingly as I hid the stash behind my back.

I pulled my face slightly because next, I already had a plan to head straight to the shelf near the stove, due to the fact that for some reason, someone had left a huge slab of Cadbury Bubbly chocolate (that everyone knew was my ultimate favourite ), right in proximity of my wandering eyes.

But with Nani’s eyes now fixed on me, I slunk back to the bar stool, determined to leave my chocolate-cravings for later.

“No, Nani,” I said with a small smirk. “I’m not fasting.”

”Oh,” she said, obviously peeved that I would have the guts to even admit it.

And I got the old traditional thinking but after explaining to my brother that women take a break from certain forms of worship once a month, he now obediently turned the other way if he ever saw us sneaking a treat to our rooms. Nani obviously, thought it was appalling that he knew, but I thought it was important that he knew that we weren’t cheating.

“You missing Zaid?”

It was Nani again and I knew that was her way of asking why I was still sitting there, because it was the first time I had set foot on the kitchen after ages.

And to tell the truth, though the short break definitely had helped with my sleep deprivation, I was actually missing him so much that I pottered around my room trying to deal with myself in the best way possible. As much as I wanted to call every minute and see how he was doing, all I did was message Saaliha (maybe a bit too many times) to ask how he was… but despite her being polite, her answers were always brief and to the point.

For all I know, she had probably been given instructions by Hamzah not to over indulge me and I got that. Well, a little, except for the fact that I still thought that he was behaving like a selfish brat.

I sighed audibly, unable to contain my annoyance.

“You okay?” Nani asked bossily, and turned back to mixing the batter she had put in the metal bowl in front of her.

“Just tired,” I said half-heartedly. I still had piles of work to do and I just couldn’t seem to get around to it. Faadil had messaged me about six times this morning for follow ups on budgets but I just wasn’t feeling like getting into it. I knew that my job was on the line too, but for some reason, it didn’t even faze me.

Sure, I missed some aspects of my apartment but sitting like a lump and getting spoilt rotten had been absolute bliss.

Besides, Nani was in a particularly good mood because she hadn’t once even commented on my laziness. Maybe she was feeling sorry for me or just wanted to be nice, but when Nani actually missed an opportunity to hound me about learning to cook, I knew that the odds were in my favour.

And as she turned to look at me, a slight frown on her forehead, I couldn’t help but notice how different she appeared. It had been so long that I had really taken her in, that I didn’t quite realise how much she had aged.

Although she was still highly capable for everything that she had carried out over the years, her back was now slightly hunched and her movements were a little slower than before.

There it was. Another reminder that time was running away with me and if I didn’t say anything it would forever be lost…

And I suppose that’s why, although it was probably the best time for me to head back upstairs and either do the work Faadil had mailed me this morning, or just some general adhkaar and Ibaadat (worship) that I’d kind of made a habit of to ground me, I knew I shouldn’t.

It was just that, somehow, after the general cleansing and lightening and purifying of my heart over the weeks had taken effect, there was nothing else that I really wanted to do than bear my heart and soul and that was exactly why I sat there for another five minutes and wondered how exactly to approach the topic that I’d been avoiding with Nani for over a year.

”Nani,” I said finally, watching my grandmother whisking her mixture vigorously while the extractor hummed above her, ready to fry her mixture.

“Nani, I’m sorry,” I blurted out, already feeling embarrassed about how emotional I was already getting.

Nani glanced at me and frowned, her face slightly perplexed as she probably tried to figure out if I was just making a joke or what.

She said nothing, but as she looked at the sincerity on my face, I could see her expression ease, while she chopped carefully on the chopping board, before she finally broke into a small smile.

“What are you sorry for?” She said roughly in Guji, looking at me enquiringly.

“For everything,” I said quietly. “For not listening. For disappointing you. For causing problems. For making the wrong choices. For telling you that you have favourites…”

Yes, I had. I had accused Nani of having favourites. And I made it clear that she never treated me as one of hers.

I understood now that Nani was coming from a place where she was worried. Immensely worried and concerned that I wasn’t going all out to settle down and make a life for myself. And not get married, but that was beside the point.

Nani looked like she was shocked. But now that I was into it, I might as well go all out.

”Also, I’m sorry that things with Nadeema got so bad. Nani, I didn’t want it to be that way, but she was doing something that I couldn’t tolerate.”

There. I said it. I didn’t tell Nani what she did but I gave her an idea. I didn’t tell her that she had been speaking to the guy I was proposed to, and was even meeting him. I didn’t want to bring it all up now. It was the unmentionable things that we never mentioned.

But now I had just mentioned it.

“It’s okay,” Nani said in Gujarati. “Khair. He wasn’t right for you anyway.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly at Nani, wondering howcome she suddenly changed her opinion.  She had been so furious when I called it off.
Convinced that I would never find anyone better.

My  entire adult life had been spent hearing about how I can’t be so fussy and picky and no-one likes educated girls, and now she was saying that he wasn’t right for me in the first place.

I wondered if the change of heart was the current situation I had found myself in. Maybe Nani had finally realised that I didn’t really need a man to have a baby. Ah. The relief. At least it will save me from more soppy, spineless Sameers.

“Really?” I asked, curious, wondering if she was for real.

She shrugged, glancing at me as she dropped spoonfuls of batter into the hot oil.

The smell of freshly fried bajias was making my mouth water. Now let me tell you, my Nani didn’t just make a simple bajia.

Hers was the type with all the best stuff in it. The type that made you do metaphoric circles around trees in your mind as you bit into their crunchy texture. The type that made you salivate embarrassingly, just by smelling them.

The type I knew I had to learn to make, when I eventually decided to get married.

She was silent for a while, while the oil spluttered and simmered, and then turned and looked at me.

“His mother didn’t like my Samoosas,” she said with a serious face, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Nani’s samoosas were legend. There clearly was something wrong with his mother.

“And he wasn’t right,” she continued. “Not your type. Too ‘small-build’ for you.”

“What?” I said, widening my eyes.

Haaibo.

Was Nani saying I was too fat for him? Okay, I know he was on the smaller side but it wasn’t like I was that huge.

She shrugged.

Oh great. I couldn’t believe her.

She had turned back to the bajias, almost as if she hadn’t just called me fat.

It was at that point when Jameela entered the kitchen, and I knew I should have just let it go, but I was quite offended, so I couldn’t just be silent.

And fine, maybe Nani had forgiven me for my past mistakes but saying I was fat wasn’t exactly a good way to end the conversation.

“Jameela,” I whined, as my sister started taking out a jug for the milkshake. “Nani said I’m fat.”

Jameela had forgiven me for my outburst about her teenage-inspired-badboy-crush but she hadn’t mentioned it since. She still blushed awkwardly if anyone mentioned him or we saw him going past.

“I didn’t say she’s fat,” Nani said, not in the least bothered. “I said that boy was too small for her. Not right for her size.”

I looked at Jameela pointedly, while she grinned.

”I told her the truth,” Nani said pointedly. “I didn’t say she was fat. She mustn’t become like your Choti kala. Weight goes up and down like yo-yo. How will she find a boy when he won’t know who she is the next time he sees her?”

I spluttered as she glanced at me, wondering what Choti Kala would say about this. I knew Nani was just messing with me but it was fun to have something else to worry about.

Besides, I knew there was a stage when I was a little on the chubbier side, but being a lot more conscious of my weight now had brought me down pretty well. I knew that this Ramadhaan, unlike others, I had actually lost some weight. I was looking better than before. I also knew that I had been through so much recently that maybe I needed to just go with the light humor for now.

And as Nani went on about “makko” men (she probably meant macho), I couldn’t help but think of what Nani would think of Faadil. Despite the fact that he was ‘office men’s’ with big, big business, he had a good build. Plus he was super handsome and charming, that he could even charm the socks of me, in the most challenging of situations.

But then again, no-one quite knew about all his other antics that he got up to when he thought he had covered his tracks so well.

Okay, trash the thought. That was my utopian mind taking over. Nani would probably have a heart attack if she got wind of who he was.

Jameela was snickering silently to herself, and I stuck my tongue out at her.

Muhammed Husayn, evidently, had also smelt the famous bajias  and had just sauntered into the kitchen to investigate.

I already knew what was coming. Great. A family affair at my expense.

He sat silently and listened, while Nani explained her very intense whole theory about how sizes matter and opposites that attract. About how size determines the type of selection available and how girls who are thinner have a better selection of the opposite gender to go with. The theory went something like: The larger you are, the less selection is available for attraction.
It was like magnetic fields all over again in high school physics, which thankfully, I had dropped in grade 10. No regrets.

Shew.

”For Mohsina,” she said, matter if fact. “She can’t have one skinny small mens. She needs one with… what you call this thing?”

She tapped her upper arm and gestured at Muhammed Husayn while he smirked.

“Muscles, Nani,” he said blandly. “Muscles.”

”Yes,” she said, thrusting her spoon in the air. “He needs muscles. Can’t marry one bichaaro boy who can’t even pull you out the car seat.”

Great. Now she was suggesting that I get stuck in car seats. I loved my grandmother to bits.

My mouth was still hanging open, but as I watched my siblings grinning at me, I just shook my head at them and rolled my eyes.

The laughter was much needed, even though I wouldn’t admit it. I stayed silent though, as they went off to get ready to break fast, and I sauntered off to the lounge, knowing that my slight disconnection was probably due to the fact that I hadn’t been immersing myself in Ibaadat as much as I wanted to.

I had pulled out my phone from the shelf I had placed it on early, looking at another reminder from Faadil, and decided to ignore it for now, opening my Instagram after what seemed like days. A host of direct messages stared at me as I closed the app again, not yet ready to go into the mundanities of that kind of life yet.

Make up tutorials. Daily care routines. Trending memes that would cause a bit of a stir and create some much needed humour…

It all seemed so far away from me.

While I was searching everywhere for peace, I didn’t know that it was right in front of me, within this glorious message that was sent from above.

There are certain things that come only from the magic of His closeness, that you are privileged to seek. I had taken pride in the wrong things. I had taken pride in my fake life, that I was trying to make greater than it really was.

Because if there was one thing that I had learnt in Ramadhaan, it was that time was something I wouldn’t get back. I knew that if i didn’t make the most of this time, I would certainly be stupid. This was the time when I had to invest. The time I had to beg, steal, borrow and make sure I take advantage of, no matter what.

And for that time, I sought refuge in Allah, battling to find that place where I could connect with my Creator m once again. I sought refuge in Allah, in His mercy, and on the hope that He may see something within me to forever make me His bosom friend.

And as I had been waking up in the wee hours of the morning to seek Him, I found myself once again. I had tasted the sweetness of Quran. Of salaah. Of Duaa.

I sought refuge in it, even though I didn’t always have the words. In conversing with my Lord, even when I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I bore my heart and soul, so much so, that my parents and siblings had actually begun to get worried.

Our beloved Nabi, salla Allahu ‘alaihi wasallam, is reported to have said:

“There are three characteristics, whoever they are found in him, will experience the sweetness ofIman; that he loves Allah and His Prophet, more than he loves anyone else, and that he loves another person, not for anything, but for the sake of Allah, and that he hates to return to infidelity, like he dislikes to be thrown into fire.”

And it was that sweetness, a bliss that had consumed me, that I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

And I didn’t know it yet, but there was something quite noteworthy that it was all leading to.

Ever heard that saying, sometimes what you’re looking for comes when you’re not looking at all? 

It just so happens that there’s nothing that rings truer than that, for that particular day.

And having my family around me that day was all part and parcel of what was to be revealed. It lightened the mood. Made things simpler. Lifted my hopes.

I knew they were just poking me. Getting me to lighten up. Maybe even make me laugh. And I almost had. Nani was in good spirits, and still at it as we made our way to the iftaar table after salaah. I had been diligently frying the samoosas,  without even grabbing any testers, while Papa and the rest took a seat and made usual small talk.

Nani was going on about teaching Jameela how to make round rotis, and that’s precisely when I spotted Muhammed Husayn making his way to the kitchen shelf and grabbing the alluring Bubbly chocolate that I had set my sights on earlier.

And I know it a simple chocolate, but for a chocolatarian like me, it was the worst thing that could happen if Muhammed Husayn had just grabbed it at 6.30PM when all other chocolate stocks were low and even the slots on the Checkers app were  fully booked. With my brother, any edible would be devoured in 3 seconds, flat. For me, this was disaster.

I mean, chocolate was the answer to all my problems, especially when I was in fragile states like today.

And I really didn’t mean to stare him down so accusingly, but he must have noticed because he suddenly looked at me, and then said, almost apologetically:

“’This yours?”

And I couldn’t lie. It wasn’t really mine. But Jameela had noticed my annoyed expression and frowned at him, always quick to pick on my brother who had a bottomless pit as a stomach. Especially when it came to the finer things in life.

”Hey greedy, you had yours earlier this week,” she said accusingly. “That was Mosee’s.”

And of course, I was annoyed with him, but what else could I say besides the usual:

”Shame, no, it’s okayyy! Let him have it.”

But Jameela was like the our personal Haraam house police, and wasn’t going to have any of it.

“No,” she said, turning to look at me. “It’s really yours. Like, it’s legit haraam for him to take it without asking you. When you didn’t come down since Zaid left, I forgot to tell you. He brought one for each of us.”

”Who, Papa?” I asked, thinking of how sweet my father was. He knew just what my favourite chocolate was.

“No,” Jameela said blankly, glancing nervously around the table, while Ma and Nani watched her. They both had that look on their faces and I wasn’t even sure why, until she spoke again.

“Hamzah’s mother sent it,” she said quietly. “When they fetched Zaid. She sent a few things. The last time she came to the shop I sent a few things and… Shame, she didn’t have to.”

Jameela flushed slightly as she said it, probably thinking I might be angry about her entertainment of my ex-in-laws. I wasn’t though. It just felt strange.

”So nice of her,” Nani said, missing the awkwardness completely. “To send for all of us. I thought maybe for a special occasion like the masjid sent last week.”

“They had sent for completion of Qur’aan,” Jameela was saying. “This she sent with sooo many other things. Plus, that mosque does two khatams in Ramadhaan. Most people are only finishing their Khatam next week.”

I was secretly a little happy that Hamzah’s mother had actually sent something for me. It made me feel all fuzzy inside.

I was losing interest in the conversation but I couldn’t believe how fast Ramadhaan was going. I was just glad that by next week I would be reading again and be able to make the most of my Qur’aan. It was the one thing I truly missed during these few days.

My heart was feeling a very palpable void.

”Hamzah will finish tomorrow,” Muhammed Husayn said, almost out of the blue.

And I must have had a confused look on my face because as Jameela looked at him too, I couldn’t help but wonder what my brother was on about.

“Finishing what?” I said, still slightly confused.

”He’s reading his last part for tonight. At the house behind the new Masjid in JHB North. I went there last week. He was also talking to Papa the other day when he came and he confirmed it.”

What? My heart literally skipped a beat as he said it.

Why, oh why, didn’t I come down when they came to fetch Zaid? I was being stupid and emotional because I didn’t want him to go. But now, I missed out on this whole conversation that had happened and I couldn’t believe I had acted so childish.

”He’s a Hafidh?” I said dumbly, and Muhammed Husayn looked at me like a I born on another planet.

“Duh.”

It was Jameela’s turn to look at me in surprise. She probably didn’t know either. I mean, she would only know if I had told her.

And why on Earth was my heart beating so fast?

”Wait,” she said, looking at me again. “You telling me he’s a Hafidh and you didn’t know it?”

“We never discussed it,” I said quietly, as if that explained it, barely even believing it myself.

How could we have not even spoke about that?

How could we have never discussed that he was a protector of the most beautiful book? How could we have not spoken about what an amazing gift he had been blessed with? How did I not even see the value of that, before this…

I breathed in, not even seeing clearly anymore. For some odd reason, tears were blurring my vision, and I wasn’t even making an effort to stop them.

Of course, my brother was still giving me the kuku look, Jameela was just shaking her head at me and Nani and my mother were sitting there, with a shocked expression on their face, as if they couldn’t quite believe what had just been revealed and my odd reaction.

To tell the truth, neither could I.

This wasn’t just big. It was huge. And everything just seemed so clear now, depite my oscured vision,  and it was like everything single thing that had happened till that very point was all leading to this. It was a huge discovery that was somehow so much more important in my life than it had ever been before.

Yes, this wasn’t anything unique. There were thousands of Huffaadh around here. A blessing that each of them had, to hold the Holy Qur’aan within their bosom. It was a seemingly simple task that took years of effort and practise and healed even the most obstinate of hearts, but till that day, I hadn’t realsie the true amazement of it.

There was a huge lump in my throat that seemed to be obstructing my breathing canal. I looked up at them, with blurry vision, taking in a deep breath, and knowing that this was no coincidence. Sometimes the simple things in life are really not so simple at all.

“Excuse me,” I almost whispered, swallowing as I pushed my chair back.

I didn’t need to tell them where I was going.

I think they all already knew.

---

Mission Sunnah Revival

The Sunnah of Duaa…

Whilst we grapple to keep that connection alive out of Ramadhaan, I think the Sunnah of Duaa is one that we need to keep with us… InshaAllah

The Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi Wa Sallam) said, ‘Du’a is worship itself’. Then the Prophet (Sallalahu Alaihi Wa Sallam) recited this verse, ‘Your Lord says: “Call upon Me and I will respond to you. Verily, those who disdain My worship will enter Hell in humiliation” [The Noble Qur’an, 40:60]’. [Tirmidhi]

#SunnahofMaintainingTies

#RevivetheSunnahofSadaqah

#RevivetheSunnahofGivingGifts

#RevivetheSunnahofGoodAkhlaaq

#RevivetheSunnahbeforeSleeping

#RevivetheSunnahofGuardingtheGaze

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah

The Trade Off

Bismihi Ta’ala

Part 35

Mohsina

Someone once told me that you could have anything you want in life if you are willing to sacrifice for it. What they meant is nothing in this life comes without a price.

Before  going into battle, you have to know whats the trade off… and you have to know exactly how much you’re willing to lose if you stay in it.

Because too often, going after what ‘feels’ good means losing what you know is right… and letting someone in, means abandoning the barriers you’ve spent a lifetime building.
It means that sometimes, bit by bit, we end up losing ourselves completely, and that’s when the sacrifice can turn out to be more than we can bear. That’s when the darkness brings its demons, and the little light that may still exist in our lives gets completely distinguished.

And if we don’t stop it in time, to bring in the light of Adhkaar and Quran, then we will never cease being ‘lost’ because all we do is keep striving for a misguided purpose in other ways becomes our sole intent…

Snap. Snap.

No. Trash it. Not good enough.

Snap.

And one more.

Snap.

There we go. Perfect capture from the window overlooking the airport apron around the landing strip at sunset, and it barely even needed a filter.

Caption?

Duh.

Homebound. (What else for FriYay vibes, bruh?)

And of course, a plane emoji with a party one, along with the hashtags were a must, to show my dedication to the cause of hashtags…

And the pic was one of the most stunning captures of the South African skyline yet, and the reflex reaction was to post, caption and tag, before I even took in the beauty of the creation that was displayed before me.

It was, after all, all about me and my ego.

My Jo’burg, my city. My amazing corporate life. My, my, my. My.

A hard week out and about, means back home for the weekend, for my cool-off time.

I ignored the message that had flashed on the top of my screen from my mother as I disembarked, checking where I was and if I had prayed my Salaah.

It was the usual and I’d reply to it later, so Instead, as I headed towards the exit, my eyes settling on the newest message that had just come in.

Faadil.

Have you landed?

I tapped on it immediately and answered in the affirmative.

Meet me out front?

Of course, I had to prioritize. Ma’s message wasn’t urgent. I’d see to that later.

Because that was what I had made myself believe. I’d  only got here, to this point where I was so successful, because I’d re-prioritized my entire life.

And maybe the priorities weren’t exactly in the correct order, but that was by the way.

You see, the goal of this life is to realize the truth of Allah’s greatness and our own insignificance before Him. How small we are, and how big He really is. Our purpose is to take ourselves out of the center and put Him there instead…

But we live in a world that perpetuates the illusion of the exact opposite, because unfortunately, the drill goes like this instead:

What I ate for breakfast or bought at the shopping mall is news breaking enough to let the whole world in on. When we post a video or pic, be it the latest restaurant we are at, our skincare routine or my favourite Jimmy Choo, we wait. We wait for a pat on the back or some sort of recognition. And we are ever conscience of—and even compete in—the number of followers we have because the more we gain, the more entitled we are to imposing our opinions or others and slamming people just because we are virtually ‘popular’.

And the vicious cycles goes on. The more we do, the more we post… The more we turn to social media for comfort… the less happy we seem to be. No matter what, the game continues. You lose when you quit, and there was no way I was quitting.

I glanced at my phone, deciding to give it a breather as I made my way to the exit.

According to his itinerary and the airport board, which was mostly immaculately planned, Faadil had just arrived on another flight.

And since I wisely planned it so I had no baggage to collect, I made my way straight out to save time, tapping on iMessages as I glanced around me simultaneously, making sure I was still balancing my patented black heels perfectly with my new Saint Laurent laptop bag as I joined the corporate crowd, all heading speedily straight to the airport exit.

Buzz again.

Change of plans. Bumped into a colleague. Car is waiting out front. You take it and we’ll catch up later. x

Oiy. All that fixing my make-up for nothing.

Sure.

I typed back, suppressing my urge to add how inconsiderate he was. No need to act desperate.

What time later was, I didn’t want to know. It was already 7PM and my brain was broken. Also, my back was killing me slowly too. I suppose a nice hot soak in the bath would be a good idea…

For now, back to the gram.

The announcements from the speaker above were drowned out as I scrolled through my feed whilst walking steadily through the sliding doors into arrivals. MUA, influencers and two school friends had posted, and I found myself double tapping almost unconsciously as I scrolled through all their posts.

Friday night vibes were trending but I was barely feeling it.

And like most Friday evenings, and as I glanced at men and women alike coming back from a day or week out of town, probably rushing home to be with friends or families, there was an inkling of twisted irony here, that I didn’t quite understand.

Although I had told myself that this was the way I had wanted it, at times it felt like I was living a life that wasn’t my own.

And everyone around me here, I was sure, had their own story. Their own hang-ups. Their own perks too. But right now, all that was on their mind was to get home, recharge for the two days that felt like two hours  before the rat race would start all over again.

I took a quick selfie as I wheeled my bag out the sliding doors, trying desperately not to spot Faadil, who was as stark as day, with his back to me, chatting easily to a female someone outside while I walked past.

Black Armani shirt. Fitted denim jeans. Polished leather shoes. His hair was always immaculately styled and I felt my tummy do a little twisted knot as I turned my gaze away.

A colleague? I wasn’t quite sure.

He probably didn’t even notice, but in one glance, I took in way more than I meant to, and body language was always a dead giveaway.

Lost. I felt so lost as I walked past, wondering not for the first time if maybe the path I was treading wasn’t exactly the wisest one.

But then again, I couldn’t forget the plot. The motive. It wasn’t about feelings. This was business.

I walked outside, stashing my phone while I stood patiently, scanning the cars for the office chauffeur driven one.

And as I approached the C-class Mercedes and jumped in, I was determined not to overthink anything. I enjoyed the ride, opening my phone as a remedy to dispel all inadequacies. As if on cue, @londongirlfromjozie had already double tapped and commented, and Maahira’s message had come just in the nick of time.

And since she had called it quits on the toxic situations  in her life, aka Hashim, I kind of related to her journey, because it was around the same time that things had ended with Hamzah.

And though it took a while to build that trust again, we had taken comfort in each other whilst we healed through the trials we faced, and Maahira’s new approach to life actually made me feel soothed but lacking in spirituality…

It’s like she was way ahead of me on this journey of reflection and reformation and I could barely keep up.

Our last conversation had unsettled me, to say the least.

@londongirlfromjozie commented:

Back home? Is it time u let the cat out the bag? 

@mostlymohsina: Mhm.

Maahira’s inappropriate response:

Or should I say – tiger on the prowl?

Me, switching to direct message:

Don’t be a hater. He’s a busy man. It’s not his fault he has to mingle with so many people.

She had heard, through the pipeline, that Faadil wasn’t exactly the conservative type and it made her super wary.

@londongirlfromjozie via direct message:

He has to, or chooses to? It’s one thing if he’s single and mingling but…..

She left that in the air but it had the desired effect. That was a question that was worth investigating, but I wasn’t going to fall for her suspicions with no solid evidence.

Evidently, she wasn’t thrilled about the recent developments on my relationship front with Faadil, and she didn’t mince her words.

What she didn’t understand was that emotionally and financially, I was indebted to him. Throughout the roughest patched over the past few months, he was the only person who had proven to be of any consolation. He had, literally, come to the rescue and sorted everything out, when I felt like I was in way over my head.

To me, it all made sense. The proposal that he had put forth was a strategic move that wouldn’t only benefit the company, but would also serve to reinforce the foundation of it. The financial benefits, of course, were noteworthy, but not the sole aim.

Soon, I would break the news to Layyanah and then to my parents, and I did expect them to be happy for me. I just needed time to wrap my head around it, and to finally come to terms with the fact that it was time to settle down, but for real this time.

I opened my phone again, not able to shake the feeling that her questions were bringing on.

Do you think my parents will go psycho on me?

I typed in our private chat.

I wished I could go psycho on u.

Of all people, I didn’t expect Maahira to be this way.

Haai. But why?

I typed quickly, not sure why she felt so strongly about this.

The next thing I knew, Maahiras name was flashing on my phone and I slid to answer the call, putting the phone to my ear without saying anything.

“Because any work-based relationship is trouble,” she retorted bossily as I answered. “But your boss is the most trouble. And I know his type. Did you even tell Layyanah? What about isthikhaarah?”

I knew Layyanah would have asked me the same thing, and that was precisely why I was fretting about telling her.

Maahira and Layyanah had actually been in contact over the past few months, and I had no idea until I had started chatting to Maahira again.

Maahi had asked her for a sincere apology for being such a rat in the past and things kind of took off from there. It was cool that two of my best girls were friends.

”I didn’t tell Layyanah and you better not open your mouth,” I warned her.

“I won’t,” she promised, and I believed her this time. She knew that if she had to betray my trust, I would never forgive her again.

For me though… I just needed all the toxicity to leave… so I could feel at peace with everything.

I swallowed as I thought about Isthikhaarah. Lately, I’d been feeling so disconnected. I didn’t even think about that. About connecting with Allah. About seeking His help.

But if everything was pointing towards this as a solution, won’t it be the right thing for me?

“You do understand that if anything goes wrong,” she continued. “His first revenge tactic will be to sack you.”

“But Faadil will never do that to me,” I said confidently.

He knew how badly I needed this job and what an asset I was becoming to the company. Of course it wouldn’t get bitter. Besides, he wasn’t the only boss here.

“Just remember, no one is irreplaceable,” she shot back.

I bit my lip, trying not to explode on her.

Was she actually saying that I could be replaced by some other half-wit who probably can’t even do a portion of slavery that they get away with allocating to me?

Ghuh.

“Listen, I have to go in a bit,” she said, quickly, as I heard someone in the background. “Some girls are here from the office. Will you just speak to your parents already? I thought you went to the farm last weekend.”

Faadil also called my home a farm. Most city people did, and now that Maahira lived in London, she was jumping on the bandwagon. I found it just a tad bit derogatory.

As if they were some kind of royalty just because they had a city address.

”I just went to see my favourite little guy,” I said, thinking of Zaid once again, instantly forgetting all the worries that were hounding me. “l’ll speak to them soon. And Layyanah too…”

I had spent an entire afternoon with him while Layyanah and Liyaket went off to do some shopping. I had been seeing him almost every weekend when work time allowed.

And I smiled as I remembered his adorable little double chin and the cutest single dimple that just got me every time.

Even through everything that had happened recently, I honestly felt like he was the one reason I had to keep myself sane. He was undeniably a reason to smile after a long and tiring week at work.

And since I was seeing her so often I knew that I should have already spoken to Layyanah about Faadil, but I just couldn’t seem to sum up the courage…

“I’m waiting to know the outcome here,” she concluded. “I need to know when to plan my trip back home. Let me know as soon as you tell them.”

I cut the call after greeting, feeling uneasy for some reason, now that she was talking about official stuff.

And now this was actually happening, of course.. I could only imagine that it would very possibly be a high profile type of weeding. Faadil only mingled with the rich and famous.

Although I was all in for the fancy favours and trending decor… a part of me secretly always wanted a small and intimate Nikah, and I knew that wasn’t exactly on the cards for him.

I sighed, not trusting myself to say anything more. I’d had no one to talk to about this, so I shoved it out of my mind for then, hoodwinking myslef into believing it was all cool for now.

Deception. It’s like I was caught in a maze that had no way out.

Another message from my mother came through on my phone as I we reached Sandton, and I figured it may be a good time to call, while I bided the time before I’d be home on my couch with a bag of popcorn.

I thought that it would be the usual mother-like nagging, but this time though, there was something else.

”Did you speak to Jameela?”

And of course, if I had the decency to reply, I would say no, I didn’t.

In fact, I hadn’t spoken to my sister in over two months. I mean, we acknowledged each other when we met, but there were no more FaceTimes or calls that would pass by between us intermittently in the week, like back in the pre-high-flying days.

And I wanted to on multiple occasions but I didn’t make the first move. The tension was subtle but it was very much present. I did have a feeling that she might have been upset about the way I live my life but I didn’t sweat it.

My mother had good avoidance tactics. Instead of answering she just said that Jameela will be in contact, and cut the call just after telling me that she was hoping they’d see me this weekend.

EIsh. If they were expecting me I knew that I had to let them know not to. I really just wanted to chill and take it easy. Maybe visit Layyanah and baby Zaid. See Faadil under our stipulated conditions. Other than that… I wasn’t sure and I was feeling pretty selfish.

And yes, at this point, It had been a helluva couple of months. Nightmarish memories still haunted me but I was finally feeling settled and accomplished and being away from home and the constant hounding of my family was helping too.

The guilt. Why couldn’t she just understand? I just needed the peace to deal with myself.

I breathed out as I reached home, opening my Instagram to see the reactions on the last post. 360 likes already, and it had barely been an hour.

And ‘peace’ was what I was fooled into believing I had, as I opened my empty apartment, kicking off my heels and dumped my bag at the front.

No matter how classy the hotels were… How delicious the breakfast had been… How luxurious the business class seats were…. Home was still home.

Later, I would read my Salaah. For now, all that mattered was my ego and feeding my desires. Whipping up a cup of my favourite coffee, and planting myself on my chill-out sofa was the perfect remedy after a long week.

Tomorrow, I would be more productive. Do a little bit of cleaning, and dusting. I didn’t realize that souls needed cleansing too.

For now, I just needed a diversion. Maybe I’d even message Lesley for a coffee date. Find out whats going on with her after Nikah. Perhaps even draw some much needed inspiration and hope she would give me the go-ahead with Faadil.

I shoved everything else out of my head as the red and black logo flashed on the screen. For now it was Netflix and chill, so there I was, procrastinating endlessly with my head in my darkened clouds, prying my eyes open as I lay on the couch.

And I was seemingly lost in a parallel world, on the brink of zombie mode,when the buzzing of the phone on my lap jolted me awake.

And still half expecting it to be Faadil who had said he would see me later, but as I studied the phone in my hand, I realized that it wasn’t him at all.

And for a minute, I wasn’t sure what to do, as I saw my sisters name on the ID, after weeks of no contact.

And while I deliberated on whether or not pick up right away, the call cut and she phoned again, almost immediately. There was no doubt that it had to be pretty important, so I shoved aside my toxic mentality for a minute, pressed the green button, not really thinking further than my pride as I greeted, trying to sound as natural as possible.

“Assalamualaikum,” Jameela’s voice said, really faintly as I struggled to hear. It was like a mixture of bad signal and utter chaos, wherever she was at the time, but my ears were ringing the the racket. “Mohsina, sorry, you have to…”

Her voice trailed off as I struggled to decipher her words as I heard sirens blaring on the other side of the line, wondering where on earth she was at this time of the night.

“Jameela?” I said, sitting up as I was practically jolted from my Netflix-induced slumber, her voice sounding almost foreign to me as she spoke again.

“Mos, you have to come now,” she cried, her voice clearly on the verge of tears again.

She sniffed loudly as my heart beat incessantly in my chest, assuming every worst case possible scenario in my head.

“What’s happened?!” I asked, guilt immediately overwhelming over me as I thought about how I’d put seeing off my parents for so long. “Just tell me, what’s going on? Is Papa okay?! Nani?!”

Lucid thoughts were hounding me. About Nani. About how my priorities had gone completely out the window during the last few months.

When was the last time I had even seen my family properly?

She was silent for a few seconds, but I could hear her fighting back emotion with intermittent noises that I could barely understand as she tried to formulate her next words. Panic was rising within me as she struggled to get it all out.

My heart was racing with terrifying trepidation as I awaited her next sentence.

”It’s not them,” she managed to blurt out, a few seconds later. “There was a huge accident here on the main road. “A truck… a car.. truck shot the robo…”

Oh shit.

I swallowed hard as the anxiety rose within my pulsating chest.
The thought of losing anyone I knew, even vaguely, was traumatic…

“Mos, I’m so sorry…” she said, her voice riddled with emotion as I heard her breathing intensify.

Somehow , in the back of my mind, I was well aware that the blow was going to be unparalleled, but the moment between assumption and execution is always the most prolonged.

And it was all in a matter of a few minutes, but that’s how it always happens, doesn’t it?

Every now and then, we have to look up. Awaken our senses. Begin to taste the reality that surrounds us every day, while we continue to be the losers, caught up in our poisoned worlds.

Because every now and then, when the races we compete in are of fame and success, and when day-to-day becomes a mere means to an end, when the darkness begins to overwhelms us… a great trial comes forth to rescue us. To take away from what’s been consuming our souls. To eliminate the darkness that engulfs us. To heal our hardened and heavy hearts.

Sometimes Almighty Allah, for the child who is not yet capable of signing the deal, makes the deal on our behalf, to reveal to us a greater truth. The truth that comes with enduring the trials we face, patiently and with full trust in the immense reward that awaits the righteous…  To vie with one another in good instead, to pay whatever the price it takes, and barter this world for an eternity of bliss… where we will forever dwell within.

…when we are competing for the lesser, it was the one certainty that will never cease to exist..

The last of it is musk, (The divine fragrance of Paradise, the seal thereof which will be Musk)

So for this let the competitors compete.
(Surah Al Mutaffifeen)

“Its Layyanah ,” Jameela whispered, breaking down the barriers of my hardened heart, as she uttered her next words…

“Mosee… She’s … gone…”

---

Sunnah of Giving and Receiving gifts. 

In an attempt to create love, especially if they may be rifts or some kind of problem… the Sunnah of giving gifts is always a perfect remedy ❤️

Rasullulah (Sallahu Alaihi Wa Sallam) said: “If anyone receives something from his Muslim brother, without asking for it, he should not reject it but he should accept it is his sustenance (rizq) which has been sent by Allah Taála.”

(Fadhaail e Sadaqah)

Du’aa for Rajab 

اَللّهُمَّ بَارِكْ لَنَا فِى رَجَبَ وَ شَعْبَانَ وَ بَلِّغْنَا رَمَضَان

Allaahumma Baa’rik La’naa Fee Rajab(a), Wa Sha’baan(a), Wa Bal’ligh’naa Ramadhaan.

“O Allaah! Make the months of Rajab and Sha’baan blessed for us, and let us reach the month of Ramadhaan.”

#RevivetheSunnahofGoodAkhlaaq

#RevivetheSunnahbeforeSleeping

#RevivetheSunnahofGuardingtheGaze

#RevivetheSunnahofLickingtheFingers

#RevivetheSunnahofMiswaak

#RevivetheSunnahofEnteringtheToilet

#RevivetheSunnahofSpeakingGood

#RevivetheSunnahofUsingtheRighthand

FB/Instagram: @thejourneyingmuslimah

A Game Changer

Bismihi Ta’ala

Yunus

In case you didn’t figure it out yet, I’m Yunus. The quiet one. The protected one. I suppose you could call me the silent bystander. The voice that often doesn’t get heard.

Okay, now you’re feeling sorry for me. And I’m just kidding. Really, I am. Please don’t.

I am the way I am. An ordinary guy with ordinary thoughts and ordinary dreams, and its not like it ever bothered me. Living in the shadows of my siblings suited me well for the most of my life. They had set the bar high. There was much to aspire towards, and me being… well… me… wasn’t exactly outstanding… until someone had come along to convince me that maybe I’d be the one change that they needed all along.

Only, I didn’t believe that it was true. I never thought that I could be the one who could ever change the course of my own life, never mind anyone else’s.

But anyway, let’s not make this about me. Let me get back to the story.

Of course, I had managed to get by with my sisters watching out for me and my unemotional brother letting me know, in his own way, that no matter what… he was always the there for me. And he was. That was always enough.

That was why as I looked back at the journey that had begun right then, you can understand that where I was at that point was kind of a big deal. Stepping off a plane, collecting my luggage, going through passport control… all alone… it was quite an achievement. It was something that my older brother had done with his eyes literally closed, probably hundreds of times, but being the protected one of the family also came with its own set of rules. This was the first time that I had been anywhere without a single member of my family and it felt eerily strange.

”Passport, sir.”

I fumbled in my pocket as I took out my documents, a little overwhelmed by the realization that I was in a foreign country, on foreign territory… all by my foreign self.

”Fine, you go,” he said hastily, shoving the passport back in my hands while I struggled to get my stuff together as fast as possible. I didn’t want to keep the people behind me waiting.

Following the signs to the exit was easy because I understood the language. After two years of Aalim course, my Arabic was more or less conversational. Amidst the calls of Ahlan wa Sahlan from several enthusiastic drivers scouting customers,  I found myself in a taxi with a local and friendly middle-aged man , admiring the sweeps of desert and iconic landmarks, drifting off just as we arrived at the hotel I was staying at for the night. I was looking forward to touring and learning and really making the most of this trip that I had no idea yet would be one of the most memorable of my life.

Ammaan was an amazing city. Of course, the fact that it was so rich in Islamic history was one of the main drawcards for me. Many people don’t know that Jordan was the first place out of Saudi Arabia where Islam had spread. Furthermore, it was on its east side where the famous Battle Of Mut’ah had taken place.

As I found myself gazing at the barren lands that we passed on the daily trips, it was as if I could almost see the Sahaba at the time plunging forward into the battle field, preparing themsleves for what would be their last battle, as the Prophet (SAW) had prophecised.

The most significant and the fierce battle during the lifetime of the messenger of Allah [SAW] was to be a preliminary and a prelude to the great conquests of the land. I never tired of it’s story. It’s passion. It’s splendor. Their faith. No matter how many times I read or heard it in class, it still boggles my mind.

And according to the prophecy Nabi (SAW) had conveyed, it was Zaid Bin Haarithah (RA), the closest to the my Beloved Messengers (SAW) heart, who assumed leadership at first. He fight tenaciously and in matchless spirit of bravery until he fell, fatally stabbed. And then, as predicted, Jafar bin Abu Talib (RA) was then the one who took the banner and did a miraculous job of fending off the enemy with great valor. In the thick of the battle, he dismounted, hamstrung his horse and resumed fighting until his right hand was cut off. He seized the banner with his left hand until this too was gone.

He then clasped the banner with both arms until a Byzantine soldier struck and cut him into two parts. It is reported that was called “the flying Jaffar” or “Jaffar with two wings” because Allah has awarded him two wings to fly wherever he desired there in the eternal garden. Al-bukhari reported fifty stabs in his body, none of them in the back…

SubhaanAllah.

And as mentioned beforehand, Abdullah bin Rawaha (RA) then finally proceeded to hold up the banner and fight bravely on his horseback while reciting enthusiastic verses as motivation for his wavering soul, until he too was martyred.

There upon a man took the banner and called upon the Muslims to choose a leader. The Muslims looked to the place where a future lieutenant and leader of the army was fending off the enemy, and the honour was unanimously granted to Khalid bin al-Waleed, an outstanding strategist and a skilled brave fighter. It was reported by that he used nine swords that broke while he was relentlessly and courageously fighting the enemies of Islam. He, however, realizing the grave situation the Muslims were in, began to follow a different course of encounter, revealing the ferocious strategy-maker that Khalid (RA) was rightly called…

Khalid Bin Waleed (RA). A legend of sorts that fought to such heights that Harith bin Shamir and his allied Roman army lost its courage. They thought that the Muslims had received fresh reinforcements. They began to recede when the darkness of night started to prevail. Khalid bin Waleed (RA) also left for Madinah along with the remaining army. It was greatly through his exemplary valour and military expertise that Khalid bin Waleed RA safely delivered one thousand soldiers out of danger and reached Madinah. For this reason, the Prophet (SAW) honoured him by the title of “Saif-Ullah” (the sword of Allah).

And of course, being there in a place which served as a constant reminder of the victorious past… one that was so rich in history… only made me want to learn and see more.

The days were full and uplifting. My own Ustaadh at the Uloom had directed me to someone who I could engage with… whether it was something educational or something important just about life to learn, I was open to it. Quran was an every day routine and Hadith classes were ongoing at his Madrassa. Because I wasn’t a regular student, he took special care in taking me to sites that were of interest. What I found myself most taken aback by was seeing and meeting refugees who were displaced. The Syrian crisis became a reality. Gaza was no longer just a place I heard of in the news. Being there opened my eyes. Alerted my brain. It made me realize why Ahmed always pushed me to travel, because your entire perspective of the world can change when you see what really happens out there…

”Next time you bring your wife,” Ustaadh Dawud, who was a friend of an Aalim at Madrassa, said as we jumped back into the taxi. “The ladies are always thrilled to see other ladies. They love to meet new people. Talk. Give them stories of their lives… especially the older ones.”

”I’m not married,” I said, feeling a little shy about the prospect. Marriage was a far-fetched notion.

”No problem,” he said easily in his Arab accent. “Maybe your sister? If she comes she can help hand over our monthly package. The ladies are strong. Very strong. Many have no support. You ask them where’s their husband… they say simply… Shaheed, Alhumdulillah. You ask them about their sons. They say same. So easily. Alhumdulillah is their second nature. I ask Allah every day to give me that type of Imaan. It’s… I don’t know what you will say in English…  SubhaanAllah…”

I swallowed and looked at him, already feeling choked up. That was on another level completely. Like strength and Yaqeen and immense Tawakkul all combined…

“Insha Allah,” I said vaguely, knowing that Khawlah would probably love to come here.

Thinking about my sister again in this context… knowing she lost her husband too… caused me halt in my tracks and think of my brother-in-law after many months, in this strange place. It had been a while but his memory was that poignant. I had never admitted it, but had missed him unmentionably for the first few months. With time of course, the pain had seemed to fade, but I couldn’t forget the great service he had done for me when he had been alive. Just the fact that he took time to know me and be more than a brother-in-law was something that made a dent.

“So do you know what you’re doing after school?” He had asked one night as he peeped into my room, peering over my school books.

Khawlah was always an early sleeper, and Aadam never went home straight away. That was just Aadam. Never in a hurry. Whether he was chatting to Dada, Abba, or tapping on my room door… Aadam was someone who just made time for people, no matter how busy he was.

The thing was, I was hesitating to tell him. My dreams were nothing amazing. That much I had convinced myself of.

But when I eventually told him that I wanted to be an Aalim… well, he had basically taken the ordinary and made it something completely extraordinary.

”That’s amazing,” he said, looking truly awestruck. I narrowed my eyes at him disbelievingly.

Was it?

Most people didn’t think so.

”I know what you’re thinking,” he said to me.

I looked at him cynically, putting away my school books as he made himself comfortable on my bed. Of course, when I had first met my brother-in-law, his upper-class accent and lazy attitude was strange. I had never met anyone like him till then. As I got used used to him, those had grown to be one of his mos likable traits.

”You see me as this computer geek with all these monuments to my name,” he continued, shrugging indifferently. “Thinking I don’t know what it’s like to be you. But before you get the wrong idea about me, let me just tell you that I’m a pretty regular guy. I’m not saying that because I want you to tell me that I’m not. And yes, maybe I have a few meager titles to my name, but in no way does that make me a game-changer, yeah? I am nothing great…. I can promise you.”

I was still cynical when I looked at him. But he was. He was a famous computer guy who had articles written about his work and so many things going for him. He had potential. He was lucky. He was one of the popular people. I wasn’t.

“But when I look at you, Yunus,” he said, halting my train of thought. “You are different. Extraordinary. Not many people know what they want out of life, and have such noble ambitions. I know game-changers…. and believe me when I say that you, Yunus, are going to be a game-changer… you are. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You’re going to pursue the Aalim course and you’re going to be an awesome Molvi whose going to teach Deen and inspire people and change so much more than you think. That much, I’m absolutely certain of.”

I blinked as he said it, surprised that he had so much of faith in my ability. Surprised that his words had already affected my heart. Surprised that there were people like him who cared enough to even make this meagre thought of mine into something that I could truly believe in and aspire towards. I suppose some people were just meant to cross your path and serve the purpose of giving you the kind of unprecedented inspiration that you could stash away for an entire lifetime.

And though I didn’t believe it at first, I could quite safely say that his words that night and constant encouragement throughout was such that kept pushing me to pursue my dreams of being an Aalim, despite feeling that I would never be able to accomplish it…

And sometimes we underestimate the little words that people say, but this was something small and sincere that had really changed the course of my life.

“We’ll stop at a Masjid on the way,” Ustaadh Dawud said, bringing my mind back to the present. “Else we will miss Maghrib Salaah. There is beautiful recitation here.”

I nodded and looked out the window, glad that the drive to the wasn’t too long. I gazed up at the astounding architecture as we pulled up, thinking how much of beauty that the Masaajid exuded here… it seemed like each was more beautiful and intricately decorated than the last. Though the weather was a little chilly, the warmth  hospitality that the people displayed always amazed me.

The Adhaan (call to prayer) had just concluded
as I settled into a space of my own, taking the time to enjoy the feeling here… I couldn’t help but also feel a little overwhelmed….

”Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar…”

The Iqamah had commenced and I could see people scrambling to the front and gesturing to each other to fill in gaps that were left in between. As Ustaadh Dawood went to the front, I found myself wedged between a bulky man with a beard and a young guy who looked like he was a university student.

I closed my eyes as the Imaam started to recite, and though I didn’t expect it, like a sacred kind of feel that happened in the Masaajid of the Haramain… I instantly found myself lost in his recitation. Every letter and word was pronounced with unhindered purpose, and as the voice peaked and dropped at just the right inflections, I was lost in its beauty. The recitation was really unlike anyone I’ve heard before. Completely unique. Perfectly composed. It was a time when I silently willed for the Imaam to recite a few more verses. To continue for a little longer.

And because my Ustaadh had explained to me about how Qiraat recitation worked and how difficult it was to become a Qari, it made me admire these types of recitations all the more. I could see that everyone around me was appreciating the strong tone that flowed out of the speakers surrounding us, together with the beautiful flow of its natural disposition that made it something really something special. If reading like this didn’t move hearts then I’m not sure what could…

And as we ended the Salaah and I read my Sunnah, I cast my gaze thereafter to front where Ustaadh Dawud was, as a small  crowd was now making its way out, leaving enough open space for me to get a clear view of the now empty Mimbar. Something within me told me that I had to catch a glimpse of the face that belonged to the recitation. There was some kind of invisible yearning that was drawing me to meet this person whose recitation I’m sure had already affected so many hearts.

I cleared my throat as I approached the front, staying close to Ustaadh as I tried to take in my surroundings. The inside of the masjid was spacious and spectacular. I felt my heart sink as I realized the Imaam must have left or gone somewhere else. Maybe one day when I’d come back, I’d meet him.

While Ustaadh spoke to someone in fluent Arabic, I caught tit-bits of what he was talking about as they chatted, taking some inanimate snaps of its inside to pass my own time. I could hear him telling them about me visiting from South Africa and snippets about the refugees we had seen earlier. My heart was still affected by the reality of what I’d seen. It was a real eye-opener. We hear about people who are suffering and have lost everything they have and are still content, but when we see it, it was completely different story.

”Yusuf,” Ustaadh said, calling me to him. I had given up on telling him that my name was Yunus and not Yusuf, so I smiled instead and nodded. It didn’t really matter anyway.

“What city it is you’re from? Shaikh Khalid is asking.”

I answered briefly and then glanced at the guy he was talking to. The Imaam. Shaikh Khalid?

“It’s just Khalid, Ustaadh,” he replied in English. The accent was painfully familiar. “Good to meet you, Yusuf.”

And of course, as I met his gaze, and he met mine back, it wasn’t the only thing that was painful. My mind just kind of froze as he held out his both his hands, in the style I was accustomed to back home, to greet me back. I felt like I was floating somewhere beyond the current realm as my mind processed exactly what was happening and all the possibilities that this could bring.

The words froze on my tongue as I tried to make sense of it, knowing that there was an enthralling story behind this meeting and how he had come to be here. Knowing that there was a reason that I, of all people, was brought here at this time and place. Knowing that if I played this right, though it may be something that would require intense strategy, this might be a complete game-changer…

---

Dearest Readers

Shukran to all for the comments and the much appreciated guidance that a confused soul like me needs. You, the readers, have no idea what it means to me. Insha Allah I will go as far as I can by next week Thursday to give the readers some closure (just so that our brains can focus on Ramadhaan) and afterwards, well.. Insha Allah… try and give something of an epilogue. 

Much Love,

A xx

A new Sunnah. Consideration for beggars and Needy.

Especially in these surreal times, we sometimes forget that there are many out there who are in compromising situations and genuinely need assistance.

It is narrated that Sayyiduna Husain bin Ali  used to express joy upon the arrival of a beggar. He would say: “The beggar is transporting our goods to the Hereafter.”

SubhaanAllah. The Sunnah of giving was one that was second nature to Nabi (SAW).

allahuma baarik lana fi Sha’bana wa balligh-na Ramadan

Oh Allah! Grant us Barakah (Blessing) during (the months of) Sha’ban, and allow us to reach Ramadan.

Imam Shafi’i RA has stated: “I have heard that duaas are accepted

by Almighty Allah on five nights:

The night of Jumu’ah

The nights of the two ‘Eids

The first night of Rajab

The middle (15th) night of Sha’ban

Allah accept our efforts and Duaas.

#revivetheSunnahofGiving

#revivetheSunnahofMiswaak 

#revivetheSunnahofAkhlaaq 

#revivetheSunnahofKinship

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

Twitter: @ajourneyjournal

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

Skeletons

Bismihi Ta’ala 

Rubeena

For as long as I could remember, I’ve always wanted a sister. I’m sure you’ve heard that from only daughters before, but it has to be a girls’ thing, right..? To have your very own BFF and confidant that’s just like a meter or two away at any given time must be amazing.

And to tie in with that thought, way back when I was an exceedingly difficult (according to my mother) nine-year-old who was told that I would be getting the long-awaited sibling, I made it very vocal to everyone who mentioned it that it better be a girl. I wasn’t kidding. I was just that kind of vocal personality. For some reason, I just couldn’t imagine having a brother. The thought was way too morbid.

And I know it sounds terrible, but I think it was the first time in my life that I had actually prayed for something. My modern mother wasn’t exactly the type who would encourage me to seek my spiritual side, but it was Ma who had given me the idea. She said to ask for a normal and healthy baby. I took it one step further and asked for a normal and healthy girl baby.

I didn’t see the big deal. I even bargained with Allah, hoping that would work (probably the manipulative genes I inherited from my mother). I truly believed that it was the way to achieve things. Of course…. I still had a lot to learn.

And of course, when Ma came home from the hospital the day my mother went in for her scheduled c-section and told me that it was a boy who they were naming Adam, I was absolutely devastated. I couldn’t believe that my Duaa wasn’t answered the way I wanted. I couldn’t understand why I’d been short-changed.

In my ignorance, what I didn’t realize was that someone else’s Duaa was being answered. That maybe someone else had wanted something more than I did. Maybe we all needed something from this little boy that we didn’t yet see. That years down the line, this little boy would grow up to be an amazing guy who would change someone’s world. What you don’t see in any disappointment is that maybe there was a greater and more intricate plan at work…

And it was like when the mother of Maryam (AS) had her baby girl. Her heart was sorrowful because she wanted a boy. She wanted a boy so badly, because she prayed he would be a prophet. She wanted something so badly but Allah had a better plan. A greater plan was in place… that would reveal so much more than she could imagine. A plan that would make her daughter not just a great woman, but one of the greatest of the world. A plan that would honor her to such an amazing extent that an entire chapter of the Noble Qur’an was named after her. A plan that would make her the mother of one of the greatest human beings, and esteemed Ambiyaa, Isaa (AS).

And sometimes I had to touch base with that. That when things don’t go our way, sometimes we have to tune our minds to that possibility. That despite the joy of getting exactly what you want… sometimes not getting what we want at that moment can bring so much more in the future..

And of course, looking back at the years that he had grown up as more than just a little brother to me, I supposed that I never thought I’d end up loving my brother the way I did. Like the excessively noble qualities of Maryam (AS), my brother too far exceeded my expectations of him. He had become a friend, playmate and confidant. He had become the one person I could rely on, call as my plan B and finally, the inspiration behind me taking the great step towards changing my life that I had never thought I would. Sometimes Allah takes away something important to give you something so much more…

“Okay so first the good news or bad news?”

I looked at my uncle as he said it, peering over at us over his glasses as he flipped pages on the clipboard he was holding. I hated when he got into his doctor mode. All the professionalism just made me feel awkward.

”Do you have to give any news?”

It was Adam who spoke up from the hospital bed, raising his one eyebrow and peering at him cynically. I smiled, despite the dreary atmosphere that was in the room, glad that my brother had finally come to after his half-day coma. The minute Ahmed had told me about his unconsciousness the day before, I really thought he was a goner.

It had been a hysterical fit of drama and screaming road rage as we rushed to get to him, praying with every ounce of me that he would be okay. Begging Allah to give us more time. The fact that he wasn’t responding to Khawlah was something that was freaking us all out, and those few hours before he actually came to were agony. Exhaustion had gotten to him like never before and it seemed like he had exerted himself a little too much to get to that point.

“What’s the bad news, doc?”

It was Shabeer that suddenly spoke from where he was sitting and yes, I didn’t expect him to open his mouth in front of my uncle that day. After the last episode, I would have been too embarrassed to show my face here, but Shabeer was not exactly the type to feel ashamed.

To tell then truth, I didn’t even know why he was there. I hated to bring up skeletons from the closet, but the thing was, he couldn’t even show up for me when I had needed him to do the ABC’s in our marriage, but here he was acting like the concerned and doting brother-in-law who truly cared about extra-curricula responsibilities.

When he had pitched up this morning, instead of doing what I asked him to and seeing to the boys, instead he dropped them at his mothers place and came to the hospital. His excuse was that I needed support. Yes, bring my neurotic self…  I did need support, but the only problem was that it wasn’t his support the I wanted.

“They’ve found something in the scan they did this morning,” Siraj said non-commitedly. “A growth on the spinal cord. We’re waiting for the results of the biopsy and I don’t know why they didn’t pick it up earlier, but of course, it’s all in the plan of the Greater Power and we have to just try and move forward..”

It was like my heart had ceased there for a moment. They found something that could exacerbate his illness and my uncle was surprisingly calm about it.

I looked at my uncle with slightly narrow eyes, wondering what if was that was different about him today. Besides the visible facial hair that made him look almost exactly like my brother now, he seemed worlds away from what he was. Not as highly strung. Cooler. More relaxed. It was like the magic of Tawakkul had been breathed into him. I’d never heard him speak of Allah’s power and relate it to his work. For him, religion had always been a separate entity, and I never thought I’d see the day when he’d merge the two and understand how Allah plays a role in everything that occurs.

Without us realizing it, through spending time with Adam and treating him through this time… there was a unexpected transformation in my uncle that had taken us all by surprise.

“Okay, so what’s next,” Adam said quietly, while I watched them both. Khawlah looked like she was in shock. Of course another complication would change everything for their future. For us all.

I could feel myself started to hyperventilate as I watched the calmness around me. I felt like Adam had known this all along. Like they had this conversation a million times in their heads before, rehearsing if multiple times in order to get it perfectly calm and drama-free. Call me crazy but I seriously felt like banging their heads together. I hated when everyone acted like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

My mother was sitting in the corner of the room, surprisingly quiet. I felt almost nervous as I watched her, half waiting for her to erupt like she sometimes would, when we would least expect it. Only, it was like an inwardly bubbling volcano… even that wasn’t happening…

”I think it’s time to discuss treatment options,” Siraj said steadily.  “On a serious note now. Just so we’re prepared…”

Now he was talking. I tried to breathe in deeply as I watched them.

Relax, I commanded myself. It will all be okay.

I felt like there was a part of my brain saying, “Yeah, right,” but gave it two smacks, blocked it out and focused on the present.

Adam narrowed his eyes and shook his head, a streak of stubbornness filling his eyes as he looked back at Siraj.

”I don’t want to know the treatment options,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not doing any systematic chemo or radium and I told you this before!”

I felt my heart drop. Where there was no will… there was no way…

“Adam,” Siraj said firmly. “This may be the last option. Stop being so damn stubborn. Chemo and radium have had high success rates. You even get the tablets. If it is what I think it is, why don’t we just try to treat the cancer and try and eliminate those cells.’-“

“It destroys the cancer cells but it destroys everything else with it,” Adam retorted. “I don’t want to be stuck not being able to have kids for the rest of my life… however long that may be!”

I could see Siraj visibly wince as he said it, and Adam immediately realized his mistake. My uncle looked like he had been stung, but being use to controlling his emotions, he recovered quickly, clenching his jaw as he looked at my brother.

Of course it was a sensitive topic for him. Both the topics…. but not having kids… well, he knew the reality of what it felt like and didn’t want that for my brother either. I’m sure he wouldn’t suggest that unless it was necessary.

”Aadam.”

It was Khawlah who spoke softly, and all eyes were on her as she walked slowly up to my brother’s side. I could see her reaching for his hand while she tried to compose herself. Of course this wasn’t easy. Of course it was taking a lot out of her, but the maturity of my brothers teenage wife just astounded me over and over again. When I looked at her, even I felt like a little kid who had no control over my emotions at all.

“I know you’re worried and scared and a little overwhelmed,” I heard her say. “But I want to hear them. I want to know our options. Can we just listen? For me?”

I could see my brother instantly soften as he looked at her, visibly soothed just by her presence as he nodded. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she looked at him, and I could see him squeeze her hand back as they looked at Siraj expectantly. It was so emotional that I wanted to bawl my eyes out right there and then.

It was the first time I had witnessed this kind of emotional intensity… and as they spoke seriously in low tones, my heart was thudding methodically as I watched their heartfelt fears unfold on their faces with bated breath.

My mind was abuzz with information. Adam was expressionless as Siraj. My parents were looking alarmed. I could just imagine what I looked like as I kept blowing my nose noisily, because I felt like my heart was breaking apart, bit by bit, solely due to this new discovery.

And of course, since I was an expert at getting caught up in awkward moments, it was at that very moment when I glanced at the door and saw a considerable figure hovering there, causing my heart to accelerate as I realized who it was. He was looking inquiringly at Adam with relief on his face. Relief and absolute joy that made me want to smile despite my own tears. Of course he was ecstatic that Adam was looking normal. Awake. Alive.

I looked away as he came in, moving back to the outskirts of the room, feeling a thudding in my chest as I thought about our last conversation. I tried to appear all normal and together by doing the noble lowering my gaze thing, but my heart was a stubborn vessel that refused to co-operate with my mind. It was already beating away, way out of control…

”We both know that this is not what we planned,” Ahmed had said almost in a rush as the call came and just before the drama all unfolded the day before. “But if we both know what we want then I really don’t see a reason to delay this any longer…”

He trailed off as his hazel eyes met mine, and I could tell that this was a mouthful for him. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard the guy speak more than ten words in one sitting and that day he had exceeded way more than twenty. For once in my babbling life I was a little gobsmacked, but if I had to really introspect, I think that it was one of the things I had felt myself liking about him. When I found myself short of words, anyone knew that I was impressed.

He was so different. Despite the fact that he clearly had all the Deeni aspects that I had been looking for, I loved that he wasn’t a charmer. Never looking to impress anyone or care what they thought. Unlike Shabeer, he wasn’t a talker. He said few words that meant business and that was what had got me. I wasn’t sure what it was about this guy who was so much younger than me, but seemed like he knew so much more. Maybe age was just a number. Despite it all, his eyes spoke more about the world than I had seen in my entire thirty years.

I had already given my consent, but there was just one problem amidst it all that I didn’t exactly anticipate. Shabeer pitching up early that morning, looking all sparkly and sober was something that was quite baffling. Whether he had got wind of what was going on, I wasn’t sure, but as I stood there, I could see Ahmed glance from me to Shabeer warily, and the two of them locked eyes for a minute before I intentionally turned around to leave the room, my heart hammering in my chest for fear of what may come out of this.

Goodness. This was probably going to cause a stir. If Shabeer knew about the proposal, this could be trouble. If Ahmed mentioned anything, it would bring a helluva lots of havoc too. Besides the two of them, my mother would probably hound me relentlessly and Khawlah would come to know the truth before I got the chance to explain it all…

I tightened my grip on my handbag as I got made my way to the door, knowing that Shabeer already had his guard up. I knew that Ahmed made him sweat and the thought gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. It was just that right then, I couldn’t bare to watch any possible drama unfold, because my nerves had already taken a helluva load in the last twenty-four hours.

In my mind, there was only one solution. Coffee. I needed some coffee. To see it all clearer and put everything into perspective. I felt selfish. Like I was worried about my own future and security when my brother was basically withering away. I wish that there was someone I could confide in.. to ask… to truly know what the right thing to do was right then.

Think good thoughts, I tried to coax it. Happy thoughts.

And just as I calmed myself down and the lady handed me my double caffeinated triple-sugared lifesaver, it was just on cue that my mothers kitten heels could already be heard amidst the regular hustle and bustle of the reception, coming from the direction of the elevator. I held my breath as I turned and looked, hoping against every hope that it wasn’t hers and maybe just someone who sounded like her. But as my luck always had it, fate was never really on my side and I could see my mother fix her gaze on me as I tactically chose a spot far away from any strangers ears, knowing that my mother already meant business.

I held my breath as I watched her, slowly and torturously leading up to what I knew would be some sort of explosion, by now expertly recognizing the familiar body language and absolutely dreading what would be happening in the next few moments. She was now directly in front of me, and it was obvious that I could avoid eye contact no more. I looked up reluctantly, giving her a shaky smile as I told her to take a seat, well aware that she wouldn’t anyway.

There was no way to postpone the impending doom any longer. I was already wishing that she would just explode already, because the anticipation was way more nerve-wrecking.

“I can’t believe it!” She muttered through gritted teeth, careful about not causing a huge scene from the beginning. This was how it always started, and she was getting better at the build-up. Soft and almost embarrassed… before it morphed into something loud and appallingly embarrassing…

”Ma, I can explain-“

”Explain?!” She said, her eyes widening as she looked at me. “I don’t understand how people think sometimes. Acting all innocent and then coming to a hospital at such a crucial time and turning everything completely upside down!”

I cringed. I supposed she was right. I knew exactly what she meant but I really didn’t mean to. I knew that my mother was in love with my ex-husband (mainly because of his amazing genes and light hair) but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t look for happiness elsewhere since he had made me feel like a disposed diaper so many times. What I didn’t know was how to explain to her that I really didn’t mean to be selfish at this crucial time…

”It’s just uncalled for!” She said, her voice expectedly rising now. “Unheard of. Makes me so suspicious, you know!  All this time and now suddenly she pitches up here all concerned about what’s going on in my family -“

”Wait, Ma,” I said suddenly, not really understanding who the ‘she’ was in the conversation. What was she going on about?

My mother looked at me stonily, obviously peeved that I had interrupted her onslaught.

“Who is the she?” I asked, obviously confused. Was there a female intruder that I should be worried about? Just when I thought I had enough of them during my marriage to Shabeer, along comes another…

I really had such amazing luck.

”Didn’t you see her talking to me?” My mother asked incredulously, her eyes narrowing as she stared ahead and half gestured her eyebrows towards someone sitting a few tables away. “That woman!”

I turned my face, half expecting to see a young woman who would be my sworn rival to be looking back at me. Maybe she was one of Shabeers ex-wives? Someone who wanted to cause a stir? Worse still, what if it was Ahmed’s ex-fiancé looking to cause trouble?! I swallowed nervously as I thought of the possibilities, wondering if that’s how my mother had heard the recent  news. Maybe there was a huge confrontation in the ward and I had missed if because I had been too chicken to face my own music.

Ah, the embarrassment that might have ensued. Sometimes I really wanted to kick myself.

But thankfully, the worry was in vain because as I looked up, what I saw instead was a middle-aged woman of medium complexion,  donned in a purple maxi dress and flaunting her recently dyed mahogany straightened hair. By now, of course, I was completely confused.

”That’s her!” My mother muttered with a scrunched up face. “The woman I was talking about. She just came out of nowhere, mocked at my genuine caesarstone counters and stole my recipe and then said it was hers. Can you believe her?! Why is it that everytime there’s a problem I spot her face, Rubeena?!”

I shrugged as I looked at my mother, knowing that craziness doesn’t go much further than this. I sincerely hoped that the kuku genes were not hereditary.

I frowned at my mother, knowing that I would probably never understand her, as long as I tried.

“Mum,” I said calmly, a mixture of relief and annoyance flooding through me. So she didn’t know about Ahmed. That was a relief. I could just imagine the spectacle it would cause when she did find out, but for now I dwelled on the bliss. “It’s only a recipe-“

”But this just it, Rubeena!” My mother almost shouted, flinging her hands up in the air. “It’s never just a recipe! See how she’s looking at us! Your divorce, Adam’s sickness and everything that’s happened… This is much more than just a recipe, Rubeena, and you know it!”

She looked at me and I stared back at her in amusement. She was really cracking me up.

”Im serious, Rubeena,” she said, her voice dropping as I looked at the lady with her cynically narrowed eyes. I felt like she would bore a hole through her head with the way she was glaring.

Besides, I didn’t really buy Mum’s theory. I mean, she looked slightly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place why…

It was all a bit of a concocted mystery, but what I didn’t know at that point was that despite my mother’s seemingly ridiculous speculations, there was a reason that this woman always seemed to be around her… a reason that my mother had noticed her and a noted blast from someone’s past that was here to dig up some skeletons that were long locked away…

---

Don’t forget our Sunnah Revival!

Favorite foods of the Prophet (SAW): Pumpkin and Barley. All we have to do is make an intention for Sunnah and we’ll get multiple rewards! 

Anas RA said: “I went along with the Messenger of Allah (PBUH) barley bread and soup containing pumpkin and dried sliced meat. And I saw the Messenger of Allah (PBUH) going after the pumpkin round the dish, so I have always liked pumpkins since that day.” (Abu Dawud 3782)

A forgotten Sunnah. Eaten fallen particles… Sometimes we forget the Barakah that can be in even a grain of food. To eat what has fallen on the cloth or even the floor… SubhaanAllah.
Anas ibn Maalik narrated that when the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) ate, he would lick his three fingers. Anas said: “And he said, ‘If any one of you drops a piece of food, let him remove any dirt from it and eat it, and not leave it for the Shaytaan.’ And he commanded us to clean the plate, and said, ‘For you do not know where in your food the blessing is.’” (Narrated by Muslim, 2034). 

#revivetheSunnahofMiswaak 

#revivetheSunnahofAkhlaaq 

#revivetheSunnahofKinship

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

 

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

Twitter: @ajourneyjournal

A Battle of it’s Own

‍Bismihi Ta’ala

Ahmed

The battle was raging, the fighting furious. The archers disregarded the orders of the Prophet SAW by leaving their positions on the mountain when they saw the polytheists withdrawing .

When they saw the confusion and horror splitting the ranks of the Muslims, the polytheists focused on the Prophet of Allah (SAW) to finish him off. Mus’ab saw the impending threat, so he raised the standard high, shouting, ‘Allahu Akbar! Allah is the Greatest!’… like the roar of a lion.

He turned and jumped left and right, fighting and killing the foe. All he wanted was to draw the attention of the enemy to himself in order to turn their attention away from the Prophet SAW. What mastery… SubhaanAllah…

This one warrior thus became an entire army in himself. One in a million, this man… Would he not just back down?

Nay, Mus’ab went alone to fight as if he were an army of giants raising the standard in sanctity with one hand, striking with his sword with the other. But the enemies were multiplying on him.

Spear after spear. He fought on.., until he too was hit. One down. Two down… And then… a third one struck him with his spear, and the spear went through him. Mus’ab fell first and then the standard…

And of course, we all know that this was the event that lead to the martyrdom of one of the most beloved companions of the Prophet (SAW). That this event, where he strove and struggled to fight… where every ounce within him was battling for victory… was not unrewarded.

One of the most pampered youth of Makkah, Mus’ab bin Umair (RA) fell after he had struggled for the sake of Allah in the great battle of sacrifice and faith… and yes, he didn’t live to tell of it, neither did he have any great possessions to his name… but he died with the greatest comfort of all.  The comfort of palaces and pearls and pleasure that would last not only till Qiyaamah.. but even beyond…

And as I read and reread of the ambition and devotion of these great people that existed in the past, trying to find some focus and direction after my momentary downfalls… I couldn’t help but feel that maybe I had been missing something all this time.

As happens in this temporary world, sometimes we get caught up in its whims and fancies of our Nafs. Like a screaming child… We say what our desires tempt us to. We feel things that our hearts are inclining to. We cast gazes where we’re not supposed to. We taint our hearts and we corrupt our Imaan, when we give into everything we merely desire to do…

And yes, I know that I’ve had my fair share of not entirely unprecedented events in the recent past, but sometimes even the greater warriors fall, right? That’s the thing with being human. We’re allowed to err. To make mistakes. Find the balance, even after we’ve kind of lost the plot… that’s what it about, right?

”You just make sure you stay out of trouble,” Zuleikha had warned me the week before, clearly annoyed by the constant drama surrounding me for the past few weeks. After the hounding I got from my sisters, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever recover… and it wasn’t even over yet.

“Don’t worry,” I said wryly. “I think I’ve been through them all now…”

Zuleikha raised her eyebrows at me in annoyance.

”Proud if it, aren’t you?” She said begrudgingly. Of course I wasn’t. “I sincerely hope that you find a girl who can tolerate all your nonsense. You’ve made me grey these past few weeks. I honestly wish your future wife tons of luck.”

She was shaking her head at me in annoyance as I grinned, finding her just a little more moodier than usual. Maybe her husband was annoying her so her moods were damper than usual. Jameel still got on my nerves at times but things had simmered down by then.

As for her mention of girls, I had just had it out with my uncle and I was pretty much done with the topic. It was dusted.  And yes, maybe I gone a little overboard on the cousin front, leading my uncles daughter on… but you have to believe me when I say that I really didn’t mean for it to happen… I didn’t know that all her coo-ing and googoo-like eyes meant that she was really a little obsessed with me. 

It was just a misunderstanding. A young girl who got the wrong idea from a little attention that I had given her. I wished that I could take it back but I couldn’t. All I could do was repent and hope to atone for it in some other way…

I had just reached my brother-in-law’s place and I wasn’t sure why I had the feeling that something was up with the phone call he had made to me last week, but as I made my way up to the floor where his flat was, I couldn’t help feel a little awkward about the current situation. The last time I had been there was two months ago when my brother-in-law had very diplomatically tried to explain to me his sister’s reason for refusing my very well-thought proposal..

“Hey bro,” Adam exclaimed, after returning my greeting and giving me an affectionate pat on the back.  I could see he was happy to see me, but but I was there an hour earlier than I had planned.

”I know I’m early,” I apologized, feeling bad about disturbing his peace.

”No problem at all,” he said, his infectious smile already visible on his face. “You’re welcome anytime. The boys are here but they’ll be leaving just now… nearly their bed time…”

The boys? I caught sight of a little guys shoes at the doorway.

Ah. The nephews.

And at the mention of it, I seriously had every intention of turning around and going back home, but I knew that it wouldn’t be the most mature thing to do. At the end of the day..  my sister was married to their uncle. I knew I’d have to interact with them at some point. If it wasn’t for Adam’s almost shove into his flat, I knew I would have been rooted to the spot. I looked around warily, expecting the boys to pop out from somewhere and start doing kiddish things that would probably start annoying the heck out of me… but nothing of the sort happened at all.

Instead, I was actually left wondering where they were, as I walked to the lounge, catching sight of three heads that were silently bobbing around on the floor. It took me a few seconds to realize that the bigger two were busy assembling a race track on the carpet while the smaller one was occupied with the cars that went with it. I took a seat nearby while they snacked on chips and Adam went to the kitchen to fetch some cool drinks, feeling a little odd as these boys played silently while I watched. From what I remembered from those misled days when I spoken to Rubeena… the boys were nothing like their mother had described. I honestly doubted that think they were even the same kids…

”This part is not fitting in.”

I looked up to see an angry looking 6-year-old with two components in his hand and a frustrated expression on his face.

”Who are you?” He said, his frown deepening. “Where’s Uncle Adam?”

”Dayyaan,” warned the older boy. “Stop being rude. He’s Aunty Khawlah’s brother.”

I glanced at the other boy who looked surprisingly like his uncle. Danyaal, who I remembered Khawlah often mentioning, took the parts from Dayyaan and tried to assemble them with little success. It did look like it was a little tricky.

“Pass it here, I’ll try,” I said, stretching out my hand while little eyes scrutinized my fiddling fingers.

I wasn’t sure what made me say it, because it was completely out of character for me… but something about these kids just made me feel at home.

It took a few tries but eventually it clicked into place. The smaller boys eyes lit up as he took the assembled parts from me,  obviously content that he could get back to work. I could imagine Adam keeping them occupied this way almost every week. It seemed like the kind of thing he would do… get them busy instead of placing them in front of screen. For a computer-geek he was surprisingly anti-technology.

Danyaal grinned as he sidled up near me on the carpet, now knowing the ice was broken and asking for snippets of guidance where he required. Before I knew it, I had also delved into the whole track-building thing, eager to see how this assembly would eventually turn out. I got so into it, that I had even forgotten that Adam was around until I heard his voice behind us, telling the boys that they had to get ready to go. Obviously, there was a series of moans as Adam hurried them along because the track wasn’t yet finished, and even I felt myself getting a little disappointed. Like most other guys, I loved cars, and a Hot Wheels track was my favorite kind.

I could see Adam picking up pieces of scattered chips that were on the floor, making sure they didn’t get trampled on or go to waste as he went along. I watched him as the boys bickered in about who was cleaning up what. What Adam was doing right then took a humility of another kind. My brother-in-law was really something else. It was hard to believe that he had grown up knowing none of this and was now such a firm practicer of the Sunnah that he put most people I knew away…

”Looks like you were having fun there,” Adam said, cutting through my thoughts and raising his one eyebrow in surprise as he looked up at me. ”I didn’t think you were the type who could get along with kids…”

He was smirking and I knew he was taking a dig at me to ascertain my reaction. I stayed neutral as I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. I supposed kid-boy things were fun. In doses.

”How are you feeling?” I asked, remembering the real reason I came to visit.

I hadn’t seen my brother-in-law in a while and the visit was overdue. Being Adam, he had been the one to call me last week to check how I was, and I kind of got the feeling that he had something else to mention too.

“Great,” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “Doing great.”

I nodded, looking at him a little skeptically and then leaving it at that. I was glad that he wasn’t bed-ridden or feeling like crap. I was also glad that my sister was staying here at least a few days in the week… and both of them seem to be on cloud nine since then. I was happy for them. I really was.

”I know I called to see you last week,” he said suddenly, taking a seat opposite me. “I wanted to talk to you, but I’m not sure if I should say it…”

I looked at my brother-in-law questioningly, not really sure what to expect.

”I know your sister would probably have my head for this,” he continued, a hint of humor visible in his eyes as he spoke. “But this is kind of important to me too…”

I swallowed as he continued, not expecting him to bring up my past request after we’d been through it, but equally intrigued by the point of it all the same. He explained that he couldn’t leave it as it was… and I couldn’t help but be slightly speechless as he finished.

What he was actually suggesting something that would dig up all the old skeletons from the closet… and from where I was right then, I wasn’t exactly prepared to go back there…

”I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my temples, a little overwhelmed by his request.

”She’s changed her mind,” he said simply. “She asked me if you’re still interested. Obviously Im in no position to answer the question… I know it’s a bit late but maybe you’ll consider? Maybe she was just caught by surprise at the time but now… well, now she’s thought it through, spoken to lawyers… my father… and guess what, yeah? He actually wants to meet you… properly…”

Adam eyed me out while I stood there, hands in my pockets and slightly stunned at this turn of events.

Yes, I loved him but he had a helluva way of making things seem like they were no big deal. Only problem was that this was actually a real nerve wrecking thing and with all the drama in my life recently I wasn’t sure in what light I’d be seen. Did he really know what a rotten kind of guy he was suggesting for his sister? I wasn’t even sure why or how… but somehow I had gotten another shot with the girl who I couldn’t seem to get off my mind and the thought was making me feel a little edgy.

”Tomorrow?” I asked, not quite believing that it had to happen so soon. I wasn’t sure why I was set I’ll looking for excuses. Maybe it was the shock of it. “That’s a bit soon though… don’t you -“

”I’m taking your sister somewhere tomorrow,” he said, and I already understood. “I think it’s better if Khawlah isn’t here when it actually happens …”

I hated to say it but I knew it was true. Khawlah was convinced that Rubeena and I would never work out. So much so, that even I had begun to believe it. She also couldn’t keep a secret from Zuleikha and I wasn’t keen on her finding out just yet…

I swallowed and nodded, understanding his point and trying to psych myself up for it. This would be a complete game-changer. It would alter my entire life. It would change everything as I knew it right then.

But hell, everything within  me was telling me to go for it. There was no doubt, like the last time. There were no excuses, like I found my mind conjuring up two months ago. Right then, I knew that there was no-one else who I would have ever been so certain about… and there was no way that I was going to let the opportunity slip by. Somehow, Allah had placed everything perfectly… and there was no way that I was going to mess this up.

”I think you’re amazing, bro,” Adam said, as I made my way towards the door now, knowing that I had to neatly prepare myself. “But it’s a big step for any guy so take it easy. Don’t stress yourself out. Talk it out to settle her fears. Ease your mind… trust in Allah…  and then you can see how you guys feel, yeah…”

I was kind of spinning.

I couldn’t quite believe that this was actually happening. I barely slept that night, because I was so scared that I was going to mess it up. I asked Allah for His guidance, for a sign to know that it would all turn out okay. I kept going over various scenarios in my head, and eventually drifted into slumber just before Fajr Salah, struggling with all might to pry my eyes open on time so I would make it for the first Takbeer. I hadn’t missed it in years and I wasn’t going to let the thought of a prospective proposal ruin it for me.

Of course, I couldn’t sleep after so I busied myself with some work and then read some Quran before getting ready. It still sounded a little far-fetched, and reality was a foreign notion to me even as I got into my simple Golf, a little more dressed up than usual, and headed off down the estate to the house I’d been avoiding even glimpsing for a few weeks.

Of course, I was a little unsettled. My hands were slightly sweaty and I couldn’t quite believe that this was making me feel like some sort of invalid. It was completely out of character for me but I sucked it up and straightened my kurta, checking my appearance one more time in the rear view mirror as I stepped out, just concentrating on making my way to the door without any major hiccups. Adam had said that the kids would be with his mother and I was glad that there would be no spectators while I tried to prove myself to the woman who obviously thought I wasn’t worthy of her in the first place…

And as the door opened, I had to kind of do a double take, because in person, the situation was that much more intense. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I greeted Adam’s father, introducing myself briefly and answering his general questions about my job and everything else that I was currently doing.

And yes, I was nervous. The obvious fact was that I was a whole decade younger than his daughter, and I didn’t have half the money that her previous husband did… but since being a genuinely nice guy was his expertise, like Adam, he didn’t make it an issue. Surprisingly, I quite liked him… and until it seemed like all his fears were addressed and the end of our meeting was nearly at its end, I had kind of forgotten what the next step would be.

Seeing Rubeena after all these months was going to be something that I was half dreading and half awaiting, and as Adam’s father instructed me to wait there while he called her… I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all going to just fall flat on my face.

For the first time in my life, I was scared. So scared that everything was going to collapse and nothing would turn out the way I wanted. Despite knowing that it was all in Allah’s control… I wanted something so badly that I could feel deep fear gripping me from within at the mere thought of it not working out…

” ‘Salaam-u-alaikum…”

I looked up as she spoke, obviously not entirely prepared for her actual presence. All I glimpsed was a loose dress and her simply draped hijab. I had envisioned so many scenarios in my mind, but they all paled in comparison to the reality right then. Right then, as I gawked a little idiotically at this woman who I was trying so hard to forget for the last few months, the reality was that I couldn’t stop staring because everything at that moment was just kind of surreal…

”How are you?”

She was looking at me as I looked at her, slightly uncomfortable under my gaze, as I hastily looked away, knowing that I shouldn’t have been staring like that. It was a little creepy and I knew it.

”I’m okay,” I said, just barely audibly. “Fine, Alhumdulillah. How are you?”

Politeness was the way to go. Polite and nice. Calm, polite and the nice guy that I knew I sometimes could be. If I tried really hard.

And of course, as she answered and made her way slowly to the couch opposite me, of course, it was at the precise moment that the buzzing in my pocket kind of caught me off-guard. I pulled it out hastily, looking at the caller ID and getting only slightly worried as I looked up at Rubeena who was also probably wondering who was calling with the most inappropriate timing.

”It’s Khawlah,” I said aloud, not really comprehending why she would be calling me. Right now, of all times. Yup, she really chose her moments.

The call cut as I watched it, and just as I was about to call back it immediately started ringing again.

”Take it,” Rubeena said, her eyes looking slightly more serious than it did just a minute ago. “It may be important…”

I nodded and slid my finger to answer, placing the phone to my ear and really not anticipating the anxiety in my sisters voice as I listened to her. My own mind went into overdrive as she spoke, sending me into a slight panic as she explained her reason for calling…

I calmly told her that I’d leave right away, cut the call, and then hastily got up, knowing that this was a battle I would have to fight no matter what. A battle that I might lose, in order to win the greater war. A battle of sincerity that I was struggling to conquer. A battle where I would realize the true purpose of waging a war.

Sometimes it wasn’t only about the conquering.
Sometimes the greatest battles are fought on the inside.
Sometimes it was about doing the right thing… whether your heart wants to or not.

”You need to go?” Ruby asked, a little anxious as she watched me. “Is everything okay?”

I didn’t want to go, but this was the test. I wasn’t sure if this would sabotage everything but I took a deep breath, and then finally looked at her steadily, knowing that she had a right to know too.

It was her brother after all.

”I’m sorry, Ruby,” I said bluntly. “I have to go. Everything is not okay…”

---

A forgotten Sunnah. Eaten fallen particles…

Sometimes we forget the Barakah that can be in even a grain of food. To eat what has fallen on the cloth or even the floor… SubhaanAllah.
Anas ibn Maalik narrated that when the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) ate, he would lick his three fingers. Anas said: “And he said, ‘If any one of you drops a piece of food, let him remove any dirt from it and eat it, and not leave it for the Shaytaan.’ And he commanded us to clean the plate, and said, ‘For you do not know where in your food the blessing is.’” (Narrated by Muslim, 2034). 

#revivetheSunnahofMiswaak 

#revivetheSunnahofAkhlaaq 

#revivetheSunnahofKinship

#revivetheSunnahofhonouringguests

 

#revivetheSunnahofdrinkingwater 

#revivetheSunnahofeating 

#revivetheSunnahDuaas

Twitter: @ajourneyjournal

 

The Fall

N.B. Little longer post… Apologies for the delay. InshaAllah posts should resume normally…  xx

Bismihi Ta’ala

Khawlah

One of the things that people often say is that you can’t move on until you let go of the past.

But the funny part is, if we follow our hearts… when we choose not to hold on to past grievances, we rise above it. A weight lifts. The sun shines a little brighter. For a few brief moments, we find that thing that we’re all chasing… we find peace.

And it was no surprise that as I accepted Aadam’s gracious request, and I made the choice to never go to that place where it could come between us again… we kind of slipped back into the ease and comfort that we always had. The fact was that I loved my husband. More than I had thought, enough to put this behind us and  in a way that made me realize that his sins were no longer a part of this great guy that I had fallen in love with.

And yes, I had fallen. In a huge way. And that was the thing with true love, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just for the now. Love for Allah builds you up, opens your heart and changes people who were once selfish into the most selfless souls. Through this union, Aadam’s presence had unveiled an entire world for me as I witnessed his ease, his compassion and the amazing character that he exhibited through everything he did…

I watched him as he drove, on the last day of my holiday with the cloud of upcoming school that loomed above, chattering about work and other things he had been planning, and just enjoying the last few hours before the craziness would start again…

“It’s not far now,” he said mysteriously, as we stopped for Zohr at a local service station. “But I promise you’ll love it. She’s been waiting for us the whole week and I just know that she’s going to love you.”

“She?” I said, as I jumped back into the car. “Who’s she?”

Aadam chuckled as he saw the worried look on my face. He continued to drive, and before I knew it, the car had already halted.

“We’re here, gorgeous,” Aadam’s voice whispered as he touched my cheek lightly, after what felt like just minutes later. I had dozed off, and without knowing it, another hour had flown by. “Are you ready to meet someone special?”

I nodded, still in a bit of a daze as I adjusted my hijaab and sat up. And as I processed it, I couldn’t help but remain absolutely fixated at what was before me, taking in the dazzling architecture that was built on the onset of a mountainous slope. From what I could see, we had travelled quite far from the dreariness of Gauteng, where the year-round dryness often tired me. The beauty of this lush landscape had rendered me speechless for a few moments.

”Wow,” I couldn’t help but murmur, as I stared out into the open view.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

I nodded, still a little taken aback by the spectacle. It was only when I glanced at him as he pushed open the door, did I realize that he wasn’t only talking about the gorgeous view ahead.

I fumbled with the car handle, watching Aadam walk towards the woman who was approaching our car with a huge grin on her face. And yes, Aadam was right.

She was beautiful.

As Aadam smothered her with kisses on both sides of her cheeks, I could see her chuckling uncontrollably. I smiled as I approached them, already recognising that amazing one-dimpled grin that my husband had inherited. There was no question about it…

Aadam stepped back as he saw me approaching, and as she came forward, her fierce embrace caught me a little off guard.

”Khawlah,” Aadam said as I held her back and looked at him. “This is my Ma..”

“You know I’m not too old to give you a hiding, Adam,” Ma scolded and wagged her finger at him, with tears at the crinkled corners of her eyes. “You took so long to bring her here. All those kisses aren’t making up for it, so don’t you dare think you’re off the hook!”

I grinned as Aadam widened his eyes at me. I didn’t even remember meeting her properly after our Nikah, with all the drama that day… but I knew that I did.

Looking at her now, up close, I could already see where her grandkids had inherited their genes from. Aadam’s grandmother was probably in her seventies, but she didn’t look a day over fifty. And though Aadam had spoken about her often, I never really wondered why I didn’t see this stunning woman sooner.

As we trudged upstairs, entering her apartment was like a breath of fresh air. It was done up so beautifully, with oaks and antiques, and as we stepped in and I gazed around, I could see the most spectacular view that it overlooked. I couldn’t wait to get out there and take it all in.

“I can’t believe you call your granny, ‘Ma’,” I whispered to him as she disappeared down the passage while Aadam winked at me and made himself comfortable on her antique rocking chair.

”I am Indian, you know,” he said, sounding nothing like it. I smiled back at the irony. It was one of the things that made Aadam.. well, Aadam.

As for his ‘Ma’, I could already tell that she was such a my kind of person. I could almost imagine her sitting on the single rocking chair next to the shelf and dozing off after her daily reading. The carved bookcase showcased a selection of Islamic literature, and I actually could not believe that she was so different from Aadam’s mother.

”Does Rubeena come here?”

I never heard Rubeena talking about visiting her grandmother before. It was sad that this woman lived so far away, and there was barely any contact.

“Not in a while,” Aadam said softly.

He swallowed as he looked at me pensively, almost deliberating on his next words.

Of course I was even more curious now. She barely came to visit and neither did I ever hear my mother-in-law talk about her.

“Why not?” I asked, looking out the window at the gorgeous skies. Their clarity was beautifully inviting. From up here, it all looked so close…

”Family issues,” he said with a shrug. “I was still young at the time, but I do remember that Ma and Mum had some words about Ruby marrying Shabeer.. Like, a lot of words… and it wasn’t pretty. They don’t really see eye to eye… I remember everyone being upset, and then Ruby got married…”

Aadam stopped talking as we heard footsteps down the passage again, and I smiled at him as I got up, despite how my heart was sinking.

From what I could see, their Nani, or Ma, as Aadam called her, was one of the few elderly people left in their family. And though Aadam mentioned that she had a son that lived closed by and two other daughters, I couldn’t help but feel like Rubeena’s kids should have known her better.

When I grew up, it was the elder  people who made the events what they were. We looked forward to seeing Foi Nani and Dada immensely. If it wasn’t for Aunty Nas I knew that Dada wouldn’t have been sent away. It had definitely caused a rift between Dada and Abba but they were slowly mending their relationship as time went by.

I just wished that people knew the reward in fulfilling the rights of the elders in the family. What was sad was that these things happened all the time.. but what worried me here was what if they never got that chance to get back on top of things and rebuild their‘s?

I promised myself that when I had kids, one of the first people they would get to know was this wonderful lady who was so thrilled to have us here…

“Aw Ma, that’s so sweet,” Aadam said suddenly, grinning as his Ma entered the room with a huge gift bag in her hand. “You didn’t have to get me anything..”

Aadam’s Ma raised her eyebrows as her grandson humorously.

”You get spoilt enough,” she said to him, placing the box next to me and the gift down as I smiled and thanked her. I was overwhelmed by her already. “This is for my new granddaughter.”

”As usual, I just get taken for granted in this house…” Aadam muttered, pretending to be upset.

His grandmother whacked him lightly on the hand as he pouted, and I couldn’t help but admire the easy relationship that the two of them had.

This was an entirely different side of Aadam that I had yet to see. With his mother, he always seemed a little on edge.. but here, he was someone else completely. He was just him.

Of course I was thrilled with the gift, but what was even more enthralling was the little envelope with handwriting that lay on top. I was itching to know what was inside… I just loved handwritten notes and I had no idea how this thoughtful woman knew it. Aadam had inherited a little more than just his amazing smile from her…

”Do you want to open part of your gift?” She said kindly. “There’s something I wanted Adam to see.”

I looked at her, already knowing that she was talking about the letter..

”Ma always has something up here sleeve,” Aadam smiled, winking at me and looking at Ma. “Are you finally taking up my offer? I mean, I know it’s amazing here but I don’t like Ma staying alone. I still don’t know why you don’t just move in with me…”

“Huh uh,” she said stubbornly. “You want me to give this up and come live in a city flat and breathe polluted air? I’ll probably never see another sunrise ever again. Better idea- you’ll come and stay with me, since you always worried about your old Ma.”

”You know I’d love to,” Aadam said with a wink. “But Ma, your place is in the middle of nowhere… No Halaal food, no mosque…”

It was no wonder that Aadam had bought an apartment right next to the Masjid. I could see that his heart had an attachment to it and the fact that he was so particular about reading his Salaah there was what made me even more certain that this guy was even more amazing than he seemed.

“And what about my kids Ma…” he was still saying. “If I had to live here… Must I send them to boarding school?”

”Never!” she said quickly, her eyes wide. “I don’t know how your mother could do that to you.. you know, you were such a pleasant child. Easy-going. Never fussed. She was just tooooo busy to cope with you. She didn’t have the time..”

Aadam looked slightly uncomfortable as she said it.

”Never mind…” he said softly, turning to look at me. “Can we read that letter now?”

My heart ached for my husband, as I looked away. There was a pain that existed there that I had never known about. Ma just smiled as she got up and reached into the gift bag she had left next to the couch, taking out an envelope from inside and handing it to me.

I had no idea what it was, but as I pulled out a piece of paper and saw the childish handwriting, I instantly smiled and read it aloud.

Roses are blue,

Violets are red,

If I ever get confused,

Please knock me on the head.

For you, Ma, coz I know you’ll do it.

Love you forever,

Adam ox

I giggled as I looked up at Aadam and his Ma, who were just as amused.

”When he gave it to me, I told Aadam that one day, I’m going to give it to his wife because she’ll need it,” she said with her one dimpled grin that was identical to my husbands. “And I finally did!”

Aadam was grinning now like an idiot, his legs propped up on the coffee table as he watched us in amusement.

”See,” I said, smiling at him. “I always say you’re a poet. How old were you?”

”No idea,” he said as he ran his hand through his beard. “But I had an awesome sense of humour…”

”Maybe around 10,” Ma smiled, getting up slowly. “Aadam used to come here often on the weekends. Now I’m sure you guys are hungry. Let me put the food on now…”

”I’ll put it on,” Aadam said, getting up as his grandmother nodded gratefully.

We watched Aadam head off to the kitchen as Ma and I spoke about general things. It was no surprise that we got along… I knew we would from the start. It was like the type of relationship you have with someone that you just meet and suddenly you just ‘click’… Like we’d known each other for years…

”Ma, the food is on low,” Aadam called as he walked in. “Are you busy telling her all my secrets?”

“Yes,” Ma said firmly. “Every single one of them. Even the one when I had to give you a good hiding because you took apart my entire computer tower.”

”Child abuse,” Aadam muttered, with a shake of his head. “The lights were fascinating. No wonder I’m so damaged.”

”Rubbish!” she said with a shake of her head. Her expression changed slightly, as if she was recalling something. “You’re far from damaged… Alhumdulillah! You know, when I look at you, Adam, you’re so lucky, my boy. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t remember your journey… and every day it reminds me that Duaa can truly bring miracles. Allah knows… How I sat every night and took your name… I remember how worried I was… when you came to me that day a few years ago, looking like you were so lost. Night and day I would read that ‘Rabbana’ Duaa… the one that Maulana had spoken about for kids. I would pray that Allah fixes your heart and that you would find your way… and then, when you came again the next year, it was like magic. I could see it… I could see the weight lifted from you. You told me about Khawlah and how you wanted to change… About how you had been so wrong about everything your whole life… and now, look at you today..”

My own heart thudded in my chest as I looked from Aadam to Ma. She had tears in her eyes, and Aadam was looking immensely pained as she spoke.

”How merciful is Allah… You found this beautiful girl who changed your life. You took a chance and you changed everything and I really can’t explain to you’ll how happy I am to see you’ll here together today…“

Her voice broke as she halted, and I could feel tears welling up in my own eyes as I watched them. Goodness, this was so emotional…

”Ma,” Aadam said softly, swallowing hard as he looked over at me. “You’re going to make us all cry just now…”

”Now you better not mess this up,” she warned cheekily, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

”Aw ma,” Aadam said softly. “This is your favorite grandson and his dream girl, there’s no way I’m going to-“

”Yes, well you better make sure of it,” she said with a wag of her finger. “You know you’re never too old for that wooden stick! Now you guys better hurry up and have some children before I die…”

”Ma,” Aadam said now, looking a little uncomfortable at the request. “We just got married. My wife’s still young … we need some time to adjust to each other…”

”Nonsense,” she retorted. “All you young people got the same stories. What’s this ‘adjust to each other‘? You’ll already there. When I got married there was no such thing. Now see, I’m living to see grandchildren and great-grandchildren and I want to meet yours too, Adam. You know that. Remember I’m not going to live forever.”

”You’re the resident dinosaur, Ma,” Aadam teased. “Don’t talk like that. You still got plenty more years…”

The chatter went on like that as we finally sat to eat the delicious lamb curry that she had prepared. As I devoured the food,  I could see where my mother-in-law got her cooking skills from. It was absolutely delicious.

And just as I felt like my tummy would burst, Aadam’s grandmother ushered us out, declining any help to get the tea things together and take it outside.

And if I felt amazed by this place when I got here, I would not be able to describe how awestruck I was by this staggering sight before us right then. I breathed out as Adam slunk back, watching me as my eyes feasted on the wonder of the gorge that lay ahead. The valley was lined with colorful bushes between their hills, and right ahead of us, was a gushing of unprecedented water that ran right from the onset… and cascaded in absolute magnificence to a small pool below. It was a waterfall that glimmered back at us in all its glory. At this time of the afternoon, it looked like the sun was slowly weaving in and out of this splendor, tipping on the crests and expertly avoiding the subsequent troughs that followed. Not to mention the contrast of the dreamy-blue skies against the flourishing green vegetation were a sight that blew me away…

It was with absolutely certainty say that I had never seen anything more breathtaking in my life.

”Its amazing, isn’t it?” Aadam said softly, coming up behind me as I leant over slightly. I had never been afraid of heights but this was something else. It was like a series of valleys that merged together, creating the most perfect vision that simply left me a little speechless.

”Imagine Jannah,” I said softly, tearing my eyes away to glance at him as he stood next to me. “In all this wonder, beauty and absolute amazement.. Imagine that world…”

Aadam gripped my hand firmly as he stared ahead in silence. Fluffy clouds floated by lazily and the ever- present breeze was a soothing to my soul. This was, undeniably, what Aadam wanted me to see… and as usual, it didn’t disappoint. I could not imagine how it must be to wake up to this every morning. No wonder Ma refused to leave…

“One day, beautiful,” Aadam said quietly, as he placed both his arms on the railing and looked over. “One fine day we’ll reach that place… you and me both…we’ll reach that rainbow that seems so far away. I can already feel that it’s so much closer. That the suns a little brighter and clouds have lifted… I feel like I’m on the right path now, Khawlah… Like how Ma said, I’ve treaded so far and now I’m getting there, to where my Lord wants me to be… and I’m certain it was someone’s heartfelt Duaas that got me here…”

He trailed off as he swallowed and looked at me.

“And I think I’m going to stop now because I’ve bared my soul to you enough this week,” he continued with a smile. “Maybe it’s time for some payback…”

I shivered slightly as the chilly breeze hit my cheek, and I snuggled into Aadam’s Downs jacket, which was the cuddliest thing ever.

”What were you thinking of?” I asked in a neutral tone, as I gazed ahead. “As long as you don’t take advantage..”

”Only a piece of your heart,” he said into my ear. “That’s all I ever asked for…”

”Done,” I smiled, watching his face light up as I looked back at him.

“Really?!” he said, raising his one weird eyebrow to look at me. “I’m not sure if I should accept that, though…”

”What do you expect me to do?!” I said bossily as I stepped back. “Scream it out to the world?”

”Precisely that,” he said with a grin. “Must I show you how it’s done?!”

I grinned back as I watched him climb onto the small stool on the other side and lean over the balustrade. This guy was a helluva lot of fun but he was definitely a little nutty.

”You ready for it?!” He asked, his eyes dancing as he turned to look at me for a moment, just before he shouted a huge ‘hello’ into the gorge ahead. This was entertainment at its best, and as his voice echoed back, I was amazed at how it reverberated throughout the vacant valleys.

”Aadam, the neighborhood will think you’re gone off your rockers,” I scolded, trying to get him to behave himself.

Sometimes I honestly wondered who was the older one here. It was hard to believe that I was almost a whole 5 years younger…

”I do this all the time,” Aadam called out, letting his voice echo throughout the valleys once again. “The neighbors love me, yeah…”

”You’re crazy.”

“About you.”

And as Aadam climbed up a little stool that had been perched next to Ma’s pot plants, I wasn’t sure if it was a lack of judgement or if it was just a buckling of his weakened limbs as he stepped ahead onto the raised ledge below the railing…

All I remembered was my heart literally jumping out of my mouth as something caved beneath him, and it felt like my entire world was in slow motion, as I watched it all unfold in helpless despair…

And that was when Aadam fell.

---

P.S. I’m sorry about the ‘cliff’-hanger…

P.P.S. As a matter of interest on the Duaas for righteous kids… does anyone know of any other Arabic duaas to read for kids specifically…? (someone had asked me) 

رَبَّنَا هَبْ لَنَا مِنْ أَزْوَاجِنَا وَذُرِّيَّاتِنَا قُرَّةَ أَعْيُنٍ وَاجْعَلْنَا لِلْمُتَّقِينَ إِمَامًا

Rabbana hab-lana min azwajina wathurriyyatina qurrata aAAyunin waijAAalna lilmuttaqeena imama

“Our Lord! Grant unto us wives and offspring who will be the comfort of our eyes, and give us (the grace) to lead the righteous.”

Also:

“RABBI JALNI MUQI MASAALATA WA MIN DHUIRIYATI RABBANA WA TAQABUL DUA.”

‘O my Lord ! make me one who establishes regular prayer and (also) from my offspring ,our Lord ! 

and accept my invocation”

رَبِّ اجعَلنى مُقيمَ الصَّلوٰةِ وَمِن ذُرِّيَّتى ۚ رَبَّنا وَتَقَبَّل د

 

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The Real Stuff

Bismihi Ta’ala

Khawlah

“By the Glorious Morning Light,”

“And by the Night when it is still,

“Your Lord has neither forsaken you,

Nor has He become displeased.”

“And surely the hereafter will be better for you than the present (life).”

“And soon your Lord will grant that with which you shall be well-pleased.”

“Did He not find you an orphan and sheltered (you)?”

“And He found you wandering and guided (you).”

“And He found you in need and made you independent…”

(Surah Duha, The Glorious Qur’an) 

Tranquility descended as the verses played through my mind, again and again, almost as if they were a gentle reminder of everything I had forgotten all along.

There was something strange about a broken heart. There were times when it almost craved the pangs that it felt, in an almost sadistic way. And then there were times when you dreaded the hurt so much, because it felt like your chest would cave in, and the only thing stopping it from doing so are the gasps of air you take in between the tears…

The verses of Surah Duha had come like a breeze of inspiration… bringing with it relief and consolation.. easing the pain that had come from a very palpable loss. As a young girl, I recalled Khalid narrating the detailed events that led up to it’s revelation that was my ultimate refuge. How such a young heart had captured the intricacy of what transpired at the time of revelation of this beautiful Surah, was completely beyond me. At a tender age of seven, Khalid had exhibited such splendid insight, that even my nearly seventeen-year-old self still struggled to grasp.

It had been fifteen days that had passed since the beloved Prophet (SAW) had received any revelation. The disbelievers taunted him. His heart had felt burdened… as if his Lord was not happy with him.  And when the verses descended on him, like refreshing rain after a scorching drought, it gave him a new strength, and brought him immense hope. And of course, it didn’t just come as a ‘proof’ to those at the time, who were too arrogant to see the truth. Till this day it comes with the unchanging message to remind him (SAW)… and us all… that no matter what… our Merciful Lord has never left us alone. 

At the time, it had been two weeks since Mama’s passing and though the chaos at home had died down, the torrent of emotion in my heart was still very palpable.

I missed my Mama. Enormously. It felt like the pain of longing had penetrated to the depths of my soul. But being with Khalid and Aunty Radiyyah helped me forget about the reality back home. I was good at pretending, when I was there. I pretended that nothing had changed.  I had pretended that Mama was still here, like she had always been.. busy in the kitchen.. laughing at something that Abba had said… or getting together our things for school the next day.

Mama was at home, I silently told myself. She wasn’t gone so far away.

And for months, as I escaped through the back door, down the familiar path to Khalid’s gorgeous garden, that would be my life. Day in, day out… I would pretend that home was still the same. That nothing had changed. And through my routine that I had become so accustomed to, somewhere along the way, I had forgotten to pretend. For a boisterous six-year-old, life was too exciting to keep living a facade. Somehow, reality had become bearable again, and I supposed that’s how people heal.  The mind forgets. The soul repairs. Happiness returns, once again…

It doesn’t mean that everything goes away. It just means that the feeling of loss no longer controls our lives.

And as I thought of those days once again, whilst the verses that had comforted my siblings then.. consoled me now, the memories were vivid as I thought back…

I breathed in deeply as the verses played through my mind. No matter how long.. what time.. or what place.. the effect that they brought was never lost.

Ans just as I felt like dwelling in my misery for a few more hours, because I had become so accustomed to it, Nusaybah’s jovial voice came as a piercing reminder that regular life had to go on…

”Nus!” I squealed, pulling the blanket over my head as she inconsiderately yanked open my curtains. “Don’t you have any consideration for people who sleep? I know you barely get any shut-eye, but come on!”

“It’s past 11AM, girl!” She said, appalled at my statement. “Get yourself out of that bed and lets get cracking with some work! Plus, there’s a car stalking your house…”

I groaned as I crawled further under the covers. Why, oh why, didn’t Nusaybah stay away longer?

”Didn’t you miss me?” Nusaybah asked sweetly as she placed her hands on her hips and grinned at me. “Or have you been too busy with Mr Perfect to even notice me gone?”

If only she knew the truth about ‘Mr Perfect’. I had felt like I had unwrapped the most beautiful box of decadent Belgian chocolates, and just found a dead cockroach inside.

“What car are you taking about?“ I said, peeping out from the top of the duvet.

”A black one,” she said obviously. “With tinted windows. And a sinister looking male inside.”

I groaned inwardly again.

“On the other hand,” Nusaybah said, cocking her head to one side thoughtfully. “That car was really shady looking… it may just be a throw off. You never know what extra-terrestrial creatures may be lurking within…”

“It’s Aadam’s car,” I said, knowing what kind of delusional thoughts would be going through my friends mind. Her imagination was way too vivid for my liking.

“Ah,” she said, as if a bulb had been flickered on in her extremely active brain, as she peeped out the window. “But he’s gone now. So what’s going on? Why was he waiting outside like a creep?”

My best friend was an amazing soul, but one talent she didn’t have was the knack of being politely subtle.

“It’s been a bit of a crazy week…” I started, as Nusaybah crawled into bed next to me and listened to my lamenting for almost fifteen minutes. Besides the fact that Aadam and I weren’t on the best of terms right then, the conflict was causing other problems in the family that I didn’t anticipate.

Ahmed’s Samoosa run had gone off well from his side, but the dramatics thereafter were what made him go off on a tangent with me about Aadam. He was convinced that if Aadam was there like he should have been, no issues would have stemmed… And although I honestly was just a naive girl who had no inkling of worldly matters, my difficult brother had no sympathy whatsoever.

And there I was, pouring my heart out to Nusaybah about how genuinely awkward the situation had got at this girl’s house when the aunties started asking me all kind of weird questions, and all Nusaybah could do was sit next to me and crack herself up about my unseemly predicament.

Let me just put it lightly. I was not impressed.

”Oh… my… days!” Nusaybah managed to say between fits of giggles. She was nearly wetting her pants at my expense whilst I stared at her stonily.

“Let me just make sure I haven’t gotten the wrong end of the twisted stick here,” she finally spluttered, almost blue in the face to stop herself from laughing more. “Ahmed went to see a girl… and you ended up being a girl… that someone else wants to see?!”

She burst into fits of giggles as she looked at me, completely oblivious to my annoyance. I couldn’t see the humor here, as yet. I was just appalled at everyone. Including Nusaybah.

”I’m sorry,” she finally said, pursing her lips and looking at me with a faintest of smirks. “You just kill me, girl. Whenever I talk to you, I feel like we’re living in some amazing novella!”

”What on earth is a ‘novella’?”

”Nevermind,” she said, waving her hand. “I think we can deduce that your life will always have more drama than the usual sixteen-year-old, for various reasons that we will no longer mention…“

She glanced at me demurely, and then smiled.

”But honestly, hun,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting up to look at me. “You’re amazing. I mean, firstly, you’re my best friend, so that already speaks for itself.”

She smiled as she said it, with a humorous glint in her eye.

“You have so much going for you… no wonder those aunties were trying to set you up with their rather unsuitable connections… but you know what..?”

I looked at my friend questioningly, softening a little at the edges as she spoke.

”You’re so hard on yourself,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Really hard. And I know it’s been tough growing up and things have been difficult… I mean, I can’t imagine how it must have been to have that kind of constant reshuffling in your life… but I suppose that’s what makes you hard. I mean, you lost so many people you loved… And over the years, it wasn’t just about being hard on yourself. You’re scared to let anyone close to you, because you’re hard on everyone else too. It’s almost as if you don’t want anyone to take that special place ever again….”

I blinked as she said it, her words striking a chord that I didn’t expect. Emotion had been evading me, even as I tried to let it all out. Although I was hurt and confused and really quite upset about Aadam… I wasn’t sure how to behave with him after this. How to get back to where we were… or even if we should…

Had I really been just shoving him off? Not wanting to get close… because I didn’t want to open my heart?

“That guy,” Nusaybah said, pointing towards the window. “Is a genius. And I’m not talking about his computer skills here. He’s a genius because not only did he see an opportunity to change his entire life… he’s a genius because he bagged the girl who inspired it. And then of course, he’s something like a wizard, because he made you- the ultimate warrior-hijaabi-princess who can do freaking Kung Fu- go all gaga over him.”

I opened my mouth to protest but Nusaybah held her hand up to stop me.

“Don’t you even try to deny it!” she warned, widening her eyes at me. “Goodness, Khawlah.. which guy in this day and age will build you your own garden on a damn rooftop, with a REAL hand-crafted swing, when you marry him?! Which guy will take you horseback riding into the mountains and quote you higher grade tafseer verses as you watch the dazzling sunrise?! Bloody hell, Khawlah, which guy buys you a hundred red roses to apologise- and I know its a hundred because I counted them before I came down to your room- and still sits and waits for you for days while you decide when you’re ready to talk to him? If I was a guy, especially one that resembles your husband, I’d be gone to find some other fish.. and believe, there are plenty..”

Why did Nusaybah always make me feel so… terrible?!

I breathed in as I looked at her, stunned at her attention to every detail I had told her in passing. How did she even remember all these things? 

“Remember that day when you turned your nose up at him like he wasn’t good enough for you?” she said softly as she met my gaze. “And remember what I told you? That his past is his past. You expected this. Everyone’s got sins.  I said: “Take a chance, ‘coz what Allah has decreed, who are we to challenge?” I don’t know what exactly he’s done, but if he hasn’t murdered anyone, broken your trust in him or sucked your blood as yet.. then believe me, in this day and age, you’re good to go.”

She gave me a small smirk as she said it, contented with her words and leaving me just a little bit speechless. I didn’t tell her what Aadam had done. I didn’t think it was fair to him… but Nusaybah was a child prodigy, the way she put everything into perspective.

It was no wonder that I suddenly had this overwhelming desire in me that some day… One day… I really wished that I’d get a chance to repay Nusaybah for all this jacking up that I constantly needed. One day, I hoped that I’d be the one that would help her through her own battles that she faced too… This friendship was one of those forever ones.

There was no getting rid of her now. Nusaybah knew way too much.

“So what do I do now?” I said, knowing what Nusaybah was trying to say but not knowing how to start. I knew that I had been difficult this week. I had switched my phone off and disconnected myself from everyone. To me, I just needed time to think. A lot of ‘what ifs’ and ‘what nexts’ had been going through my mind, but since Nusaybah had come to make me see the sense that I had been missing all this time…

“Go and have a shower, for starters,” Nusaybah said, scrunching up her face and pinching her nose as if I was a bad stench. “I’ll be back in ten minutes to tell you what to wear, since you look like you forgot what real clothes are. Then we’re going to get your life together so you can stop moping around like a crazy old spinster who lives with cats.”

I rolled my eyes at her and got out of bed, ready to take on the day. Nusaybah had so much of energy that I just couldn’t help but catch some of it from her.

And of course, after a hot shower, I already felt so much more optimistic. I supposed everything had just taken a toll. I sighed as I heard her shuffling outside the door, wondering why she was taking so long. I pulled on my nightgown that I wore the previous day, calling for her while I towel dried my hair and dumped my towel on the chair.

“Nusaybah, what’s the plans for today?” I called, a little annoyed that she wasn’t here as yet. “Will we be indoors or can we get some sunlight? I have no idea…”

There was a tap on the door as I pulled out two more dresses and an abaya dumped them on the bed. I felt like one of those irritating girls who kept on trying on outfits, even though I hadn’t even put one on as yet.

“Come in!” I yelled, frustrated that dressing up was taking so long. “Its way past ten minutes, now, Nus… I cant sit around and wait-”

“I’m sorry.”

I spun around as I heard his voice, my breath catching in my throat as he looked back at me steadily.

“I didn’t mean to make you wait for me,” Aadam continued with a small smile as I gaped at him, and he made his way to the edge of the bed. “All I came to do was claim back my wife..”

Where did he come from?

I stared at his easy posture as he grinned back at me. Trust him to make a joke out of everything. At least he wasn’t angry like Ahmed had been. He hung up my wet towel, pulling up the (embarrassingly damp) chair to sit. I was still in shock that he was actually here… so much so, that I had even forgotten my hurricane-looking room and ghastly appearance… until I looked down at my toes so realise I was still wearing my the dreary grey nightgown that Zuleikha had handed down to me just before she got married, and my hair was not even brushed. It didn’t help that he looked like some kind of Kurta-clad Arab prince and I was Mrs Frump. Aadam really did choose his moments, and Nusaybah was probably going to get a helluva mouthful too. I was quite certain that this was her master-work.

“Um, I..” I swallowed, not really sure how to react. How crazy was it that I couldn’t even talk to my own husband?

“Sorry to barge in like this,” he said apologetically, his one dimple visible as he smiled at me. “I can see you’re not exactly expecting me.”

He glanced around my room, while I tried to keep a straight face. Inwardly, I was horrified.

“I suppose sometimes we just have to take a chance,” Aadam murmured, looking at me as he spoke. Why did I get the feeling he wasn’t only talking about now? “Some things come our way, and sometimes we take the risks and just have to hope for the best.”

I stared at him as he said it, my heart feeling like it was on fire.

“But,” he almost whispered, breaking his gaze away as he continued. “Sometimes we don’t always know what we are setting ourselves up for. The path that we are supposed to tread is not always perfectly paved out for us. We don’t always have a map. Some of us grow up to think that we’re free… like birds just finding a rooftop… living for the moment… To fly as we wish and at liberty to do as we please.. And then, we get overcome by emotion. And emotion is amazing, but it’s also scary and overwhelming… and sometimes… sometimes, these emotions… they make us give into our desires… do things that take us away from the point of life… away from our Loving Creator…”

He swallowed as he said the last part, and I knew that he was reliving those moments in his mind. My own heart was thudding in my chest as I saw the turbulence in his eyes.

“And that’s when we lose ourselves to it, yeah?” he continued softly, his eyes boring into mine. “We give in to temptation. We think it’s really love but it’s not. That’s when we get lost. And when I finally realized it and went looking for me, I found you. Through that chaos, and that disarray, there was a beauty that I found. I found the journey, and the path.. and then I realised that everything amazing that I saw in this life, was what you already had. From your light, the guidance you had… you had shone into our darkness. You had this thing that we needed to nurture within us and I saw it in just one glimpse. You had so much that I had missed out on my whole life and I already knew that you had something different. You have that ability to change people just by being with them… and I promise you, Khawlah, you are my navigation, my anchor and my absolute dream… and I never felt this way about anyone before. I wished with all my heart that I never did the things I did in my past… but what happened was a turning point in my life, and if it didn’t happen then I’m absolutely certain that I wouldn’t have been looking for the gold when I finally found you… ”

And I suppose that you couldn’t blame me when I just stood there and stared at Aadam like a stunned chicken, because there really was nothing that you could say back to someone who tells you crazy stuff like that. Now that, was the stuff. Real stuff that didn’t play.

“I just wanted you to know that,” he said softly, looking down a little shyly, almost as if he had just poured the entire contents of his heart out and had nothing left to leave. “I wished we could go back to five years ago and start all over again…”

I was still feeling a little breathless. I was blown away, amazed at how the promise of Allah worked… when you took that step towards Him…

Of course, my Allah had never abandoned me. No matter what. No matter when. Even in the future, no matter how deeply I would hurt. Soon… sooner than you think…

He grants you those things that will not just please you, but make your heart soar with untold joy…

The real stuff that not only makes the cut now, but is so intensely profound that it carries through to a completely different realm, beyond the present… to a Jannah that knows no pain…

I nodded meekly as Aadam searched my eyes openly, and then smiled as he came forward and planted a tiny kiss on my forehead. He knew me so well by now, that he could tell when he was off the hook.

“I just have one more request,” he said softly, as he stepped back. ”If you can tolerate this unruly husband of yours and you don’t mind giving him a chance to show you who he truly is… Will you come with me? There’s somewhere I really want to take you…”

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Apologies for the delay. Hope it was a happy read !

(Btw: This was post number 200 on achancetochange.. Alhumdulillah.. Duaas always needed..)

Much Love,

A xx

Sunnah of Drinking Water:

Prophet Muhammad (Sallallaho Alaihi Wasallam) said, “Do not drink water only in one breath, but drink it in two or three breaths.”

Scientific studies show that there are many harmful effects in drinking water in one gulp. It can cause choking of esophagus. It especially weakens the muscles and nerves. It is also detrimental for the liver and stomach. Amazing, SubhaanAllah!

How easy to practise…!

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An Unexpected Visitor

Bismihi Ta’ala

Adam

Once upon a time, when I was far too caught up with a life that probably involved a lot of late nights, misguided aspirations and brain-crushing ideas, an unwavering friendship that pulled at the heartstrings was about to be severed…

Okay, so I’m sorry that this story is a little morbid, but I promise I’m not the kind of guy who would make you cry. Really, I wouldn’t.

Anyway, I’ll get on with it.

So there was once a boy and a girl who spent every minute of their techno-free (unbelievable, right?) childhood together, and were now well aware that their childhood (as they knew it)… well, was about to end. It was time to move on to the rest of their lives. It was the time that most people like me dread. It was time to grow up.

But this story about the boy and girl, and what happened after, is not the important one. What’s important here is the magic that had been born from this bond. This love, that these two kids can somehow formed, had stemmed from something that was so absolutely unique… that hearing about it kind of made me wonder who was the inspiration behind it all. I didn’t know that I’d have the privilege of meeting this very man years later… this boy’s father, who had been the pinnacle of every ambition, hope and aspiration that brought to life for these two kids, in every sense of theirs, the beauty of creation…

And it was through this, and everything they had come to see, that they truly lived and believed, that nothing was created in vain. That they saw amazement in every vision. Every moment, minute and passing interval, there was not a time when they didn’t remember that sunshine was a gift of Allah’s power, and the rain was a reminder of His mercy. A flower was never just a flower. It brought to life the advent of a great and momentous occasion that had just transpired. A rainbow was not just a rainbow. It was a symbol of Allah’s hope that spread across the sky, to remind them of how amazing and colorful life could really be.

It was a time when all things were tall, and all their friends were small. The world was new, and the skies were always blue… well, not really, because that’s impossible (except for real poets)… But you get my drift..

Basically, it was when the sun was at it’s brightest. Where everything was inherently magical, with no major effort. That was essentially, what childhood was about, and as this friendship bloomed in the most natural way, a love of Allah was cultivated and transferred from a heart that held so much of it, to a heart that was yearning to carry more. And from that blossoming heart… it’s love had brimmed and spilled over to be passed on to not just a few, but many, many others too… And at the end of this particular story.. I was one of those fortunate people that somehow got thrown, head-first, into the mix.

You see, there’s a great lesson here that’s evaded me all these months, since hearing this story.  All I saw was a cute little story of two kids that had no point. But then, as I looked deeper… I was simply blown away.

So let me just say this: Never, ever underestimate the smallest of actions. Especially with a little kid… you can never know the true effect of showing a young heart who their Creator really is. You never know what the value is of teaching a child the language of Glorious Qur’an. You will never regret teaching a child that their only reality is Allah, because this little effort really can go to insurmountable lengths. Because that purity… that connection that is formed at such a tender age… that type of love… is simply infectious.

Once you feel it, you will never want to let go. When the heart sings it, embraces it and lives it… the mist is completely cleared. The veil is permanently lifted. And no matter what that little kid will be told in a group or class of kids who know none the better, whether he is told that there is no sky, or the earth had materialized from one Big Bang or that humans evolved from some kind of apes… his (or her) sturdy heart will know better, because it will continue to sing…

Laa ilaha Illalah, laa Ilaha Illalah. 

There is no Reality but Allah. 

The Maker, the Breaker… Owner and Creator of the entire Universe.

And though I featured nowhere in that little tale that I just told you, there is something amazing about my life that tops the charts. Something that’s made me believe that wonderful things can happen to even undeserving people. Something that’s opened my heart to such a vast degree that I never thought I could ever witness.

Somewhere along the way, I found the gold. In some deviate alley, I stumbled upon a path that’s lead me to the most spectacular of treasures. An insurmountable pleasure. Somehow, through a magic beyond my understanding, I’ve managed to find it in me to love another person with all my heart and soul and to me… That will always be enough. Because even if I lived my entire life to achieve nothing else… I had already found what I need. I had already found the pathway to enteral bliss. I knew now that my living and my breathing and my dying was only for One Supreme Being.

We often hear about destiny. Fate. What’s meant to be. Yet, we still strive with our best for this world, push ourselves… try so hard to make it to the top. We buckle our belts, we wear a helmet, we stick to the paved paths, we try to be safe. We try so hard to protect ourselves, but sometimes it’s not enough. When the bad things happen, they catch you by surprise. The tests and trials come suddenly, with no warning… But we forget that sometimes that’s exactly how the best things come too.

And yeah, I was floating somewhere on cloud nine for the past few months, and it was tough getting down from there. It was amazing, because the light that had entered my life was one that had broadened my entire horizon. I suppose we don’t really notice when things are a little wonky when we’re propped up somewhere in the clouds.

And we’ve all had our share of pain, somewhere along the path. Pain. Sometimes it’s in the mind. Sometimes it pushes us to the edge. Sometimes it’s just part of who we are.

Pain. It comes in all forms. The small nudge, a minor twinge, the random ache and the normal pains that we live with everyday. Then there is the kind of pain you can’t ignore.

Some levels of pain are so extreme… that it blurs out everything else. Makes the rest of the world fade away…. How we manage our pain is up to us. We medicate, anesthetize, ride it out, embrace it or even ignore it. For some of us, though, the best way to manage pain is to just push through it.

I reached up to take the Mybulen from the top shelf, pouring out three, and hoping it would do the trick. I read a Surah Fathihah as I pushed it down, knowing it was the key to the cure. Above all else, rely on Allah alone, right?

And yeah, the meds were a temporary fix, but what wasn’t temporary in this world, right? Next week I would book an appointment with the chiropractor and it would all be sorted out. I bent to put my shoes on, sitting down to swallow the pills.

I breathed in as I swallowed the water, remembering the Sunnah of drinking as I sipped. Pause. Sip. Deep breath. That’s the only way the water goes to every cell of your body. It’s the only way that the passages are so amazingly opened up so that those nutrients can replenish those cells, that need the nourishment of pure water. That was the Sunnah that I had lived almost two decades of my life with knowing nothing about.

I checked my view in the mirror as I watched myself. I looked normal. It was just that I felt like crap. The ringing of my phone halted my thoughts, and I quickly pulled it out as I glanced at the ID. It was Rubeena.

“Assalaamualiakum,” I said as I answered,  psyched to hear from my sister, already forgetting my aches and pains. 

“Was-salaam,” she said, sounding tired. I understood. Her life was not exactly great right now.

“Howsit Adam? Am I disturbing?”

”Nope,” I said, feeling a little better as I put my takkies on. “Just getting ready to fetch Khawlah.”

”Ah okay,” she said, sounding disappointed. “You guys going out?”

”Well, we have a big day planned next week,” I said, my heart drumming away as I thought of it. I couldn’t wait. “We had a few things to sort out before…”

”Oh shucks, okay no stress,” Ruby said quickly, sounding even more down. I honestly was feeling so bad now. I had a feeling that she needed me and I couldn’t help her. Did I just put it out there or did I just ignore it and live my own little fairy tale?

I couldn’t hear my sister like this.

“Rubes, what can I do for you?” I said, trying not to think too hard about what I may be getting myself into. Khawlah would understand. Ruby was sounding like she had been rained on with a ton of bricks.

“I need to leave the kids with you,” she said, sounding apologetic. “Just the three. They’re easier to handle. I have some things I need to sort out. Mum hasn’t really been much help. It’s their holidays and it’s not like I can take them anywhere… and Shabeer is pretty useless.. Just for a few days.”

A few days?

Crap. This was going to eat into almost all Khawlahs free time. I knew she loved the boys but I really wanted some time with her. Alone.

“It’s okay if you can’t,” Ruby said quickly, sensing my hesitation.

I swallowed as I thought about it. On one hand I had my amazing wife who I barely got to spend time with, and on the other hand was my sister who was in a predicament and needed my help. Why couldn’t I just include the boys in whatever we were doing? Maybe the big ‘date’ would have to wait a few days… but what other choice did I have?

“Okay, no problem,” I said, not wanting to let her down. I had this overwhelming desire to just make everything easier for everyone. I just wasn’t sure if it was going to backfire. “We would love to have them.”

“Thanks a million, Adam,” she said, instantly sounding relieved. “You don’t know what this means to me. You deserve the best brother award. I’ll tell them that you’ll fetch them in a bit.. just let me know what time. They’re so excited.”

I sighed as she cut the call, wishing that Rubeena could have at least let me know in advance. I couldnt help but think she was taking advantage, because she knew we both couldn’t say no. We wouldn’t. Looked like I’d have to tell Khawlah to wait another half hour for me… so I could take the boys with me.

And I know I sounded like an old battered guy, but I was already feeling tired, thinking of all the effort this was going to involve. After a long week all I wanted to do was chill. I loved my nephews to bits but they needed attention. They craved it because since Rubeena’s problems with Shabeer, they sensed the tension at home. I hated to put them in front of a screen, and ideas to keep them busy sometimes evaded me. I had a good mind of asking Khawlah to stay over, and I dialed her number again, hoping to sweet-talk her around the new plan.

“Sweets,” I said, noticing my wife’s voice sounding slightly strained. “I’m going to be half an hour later than planned.”

“How are you feeling today?” she said instantly.  “Your back?”

It was like it was the only thing on her mind since the topic hand come up. I cringed as I remembered how I literally repelled her touch that day. I was trying to be strong by not taking a painkiller the previous week. For me, aches and pains were a regular thing. It came with my job. It was just that I didn’t like to medicate all the time. Meds always have side effects.

”It’s not that,” I said, running my hand through my beard. “Ruby’s sending the boys. They’ll be with me.. us… for a few days. I’m so sorry… I didn’t plan for this but it should be fun, yeah?”

”Oh,” she said, sounding a little distracted. I had a feeling she wasn’t really listening. “Okay I’ll see you after then.”

”I’m sorry, Khawlah,” I said, feeling disappointed too. She would have loved the trip I planned. Local but amazing. I just couldn’t help how things change plan. We plan, but indeed, Allah was always the best planner.

”It’s okay,” she said. “What’s meant to be will be right? We can make the most of it.”

Exactly. That was my wife. Reminding me of all the things I kept forgetting.

”You’re amazing,” I said, a little in awe of her understanding. “You make it all so easy. I love you, beautiful.”

”See you just now.”

I grinned as she cut the call, shaking my head at my wife’s fear of emotion. She had closed herself off from the beauty of expression. I could just pour my heart out to her relentlessly, until I was blue in the face, and all I would get back was a cynical smile. And of course, she just did it again…

And despite all this, it didn’t change the fact that that I was lucky to have her. I knew that she didn’t have me in my mind when she chose a partner. I knew that I was way off the mark. Completely off the charts…  But when I looked into her eyes… I could literally see through to her heart. It was brimming with love

I smiled to myself weirdly as I got some snacks ready for the kids, feeling a bit better already. I had bought a bit of time, and since I started doing some shopping for the apartment, I had been stocking up.

On the up side, knowing that I would be surrounded by my favorite people that night was the best feeling ever. Having Khawlah and the boys over would be a blast. Story time was always the highlight. Khawlah still topped the list with the way she read stories and Hadith… and I always felt contented when she was here with them. I could just picture them jumping around on the couches, (which I had to act like I minded, but I didn’t really) playing some annoyingly childish game, with her counting to ten to get them to pay attention again. Nights like these… well, this was what life was about.

It was how I pictured my life with Khawlah a few years down the line, hopefully with a few kids of our own. I could imagine her being a great mother… a great example… and picturing her as the woman who would hold my home together… well, there really was no other way I’d have it.

And of course, being a little bit of an obsessively organized guy, having gotten myself a little more sorted for the evening ahead, my mind was feeling a little at ease.

I grabbed my jacket and keys, glancing at the clock to ensure I’d be back for Salaah. There was plenty of time to head to that side of town and still be back on time.

And though I hated city life and preferred the natural scenes much more, the nice thing about having an apartment was the convenience of being able to just pull a door and leave. There never was a security problem in the building, and that’s what I liked about living there. Knowing that Khawlah might be here alone at times the following year if I had to go on any trips or be out of town was my main reason for choosing this place. For now, the location, simplicity and convenience suited me perfectly.

And that’s why, when the lift touched down at the ground floor, when I stepped out to see a glimpse a youngish looking Muslim girl standing impatiently in the foyer, looking at the mounted list of occupants in the building, I really didn’t even bat an eyelid. I figured she was someone else’s visitor, averted my gaze and walked ahead. I greeted the old couple who lived on the bottom floor as they left, and raised a hand to the security guard. It was only when I reached the door, that I heard a voice, and immediately knew that she was talking to me. I was the only person left there.

“Excuse me,” she said loudly, and I paused momentarily as I glanced at her. I didn’t speak to strange girls, but I knew how to handle myself.

She was almost Khawlah’s height and I assumed that she was around her age too.

”Yes,” I said, wondering what she wanted from me.

“I came to see a girl I know… I’m not sure at which number she stays but I’m told that she lives in this building. Do you maybe know her? Her name is Khawlah.”

“That’s my wife,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her involuntarily. “Who are you?”

I turned to face her, feeling a bit threatened now, knowing that this person was probably not supposed to be here. It was obvious that Khawlah knew nothing about her coming. She would have mentioned if she was getting a visitor. It was unlike her to invite someone without telling me. Especially a female that I’ve never seen before…

“My name’s Hannah,” she said, looking nervous as she said it. “And I really need to speak to her.”

---

N.B. next two posts may be a little delayed. Its that time of the year again.. request for Du’aas

Much Love, 

A

 

Abu Huraira reported: The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “A man is upon the religion of his best friend, so let one of you look at whom he befriends.”

Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhī 2378

May Allah Ta’ala enable us to keep the best company that can be to our benefit. Keeping good company is also a Sunan, and a means of reward.  

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