Bismihi Taala
Mohsina Part 81
Most definitely, the fact that everything eventually falls into place is only a sign of Allah Ta’ala’s favour upon us.
And I know people often say that nothing is perfect and can ever be perfect, but in all honesty, how everything seemed to work out for Jameela that week, I was already a firm believer in miracles.
It was beautiful, not to mention, so emotional watching it all unfold. I couldn’t help but tear up at the sentimentality of it, although I knew that the one certainty was that it had nothing to do with me.
Despite the niggling feeling something was amiss. Despite clearly knowing that Rabia was being a Karen for reasons I had no idea about. Despite knowing that this may be the last day I spent with my family as a whole. Despite the looming clouds above, because I was waiting for something to go wrong.
Some words were extremely difficult to say. Their emotions were overwhelming.
Yet when it all went down, despite what we know about Zubair and his past, what we saw when everything came together was merely a bond of human amongst human. This was such a huge step for both of them. It was such a courageous decision that would bring so much of sweetness and fulfilment and hopefully an influx of joy.
Jameela could really not wipe that gorgeous smile off her face. She was happy and bubbly and just the sight of Zubair after the Nikah had got her all psyched up.
I, on the other hand, was exhausted. I had been buzzing around, sourcing items for the supper from various places, really having no time for anything else.
Family was plentiful. My cousins were set on blocking all the hallways and huddling in the corners, giggling away, and for once, I wasn’t annoyed. All I wanted to do was embrace this moment and live for this day, because I didn’t know what tomorrow was going to hold for me, and I really didn’t even want to…
My heart was immersed in love. Full to the brim, and for a second there I had this ridiculous idea that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t want to think about anything else. For now, I just wanted to be here. Present.
“They make such a cute couple,” my cousin Nasreen was cooing, and for a moment there, I was shocked that she could be pleasant.
I could see her eyes lingering a little too long on Zubair but hey, I didn’t judge. All I wanted to do was tell her that he was already married so she could stop checking him out.
She had already caught me looking at her watching him and quickly turned away, at least having the decency to look embarrassed about it.
I never understood the whole lowering your gaze thing until I actually got duped into Zinaa. The gaze was so powerful, and the effect that a stray glance could cause was destructive to even who we would regard as the most pious of people.
But I didn’t judge.
We all had our things. We just have to make sure that our hearts are filled with regret, and that Taubah becomes a way of life for us.
I sighed as I switched my gaze over to Nani holding up two trays of Jalebi, and I couldn’t help but smile as she shooed everyone out the way while she made my cousins pass it around. For someone who wasn’t thrilled about this wedding, she was sure acting like an obsessed grandparent, and I couldn’t have been happier to see her there.
Zubair had awkwardly greeted her when he came in with his doctor brother-in-law, and I could see her shellshocked expression as she witnessed his very modest and normal behaviour. I had a feeling that she thought that he would come striding in here with a mafia gang and AK47 and her carefully constructed image had been tarnished. Shem.
I stifled a giggle as I watched her awkwardly greet, and then came Hamzah who as usual, started with his usual busy buttering Nani up as she put her coy face on.
“Naans, the way you make these sweetmeats, next time we‘re going to get proposals for you,” Hamzah said easily, stuffing his mouth with both Jalebi and burfee, as if he was the groom in the scenario.
Ooh, but judging from Nani’s flushed face, I couldn’t deny that he was good with the swindling. Really good.
”I didn’t get time to make all this when you got married,” Nani said to him apologetically, patting his back after she recovered. “I can’t remember why…”
Nani looked genuinely confused as she tried to recall our wedding week, and though it was a blur for me, I still remember how consumed by grief everyone was at the time.
There was no talk of fancy eats or tableware. All we could think of was how much we wanted Liyaket and Layyanah to be there, and yet the fact that we had lost them was the only reason the nikah actually happened. I remember feeling awakened by the tragedy and broken by the memories of their own wedding day too, wishing for Layyanah’s comforting words or for Liyaket’s contagious laugh to fill the house.
“Things were a little different back then,” Hamzah said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear, as he swallowed back what looked like a helluva lot of emotion. I wanted to reach out and hold him, but my body seemed so rigid and frozen in place.
I stole a look at my husband’s form, in his darker coloured kurta today, and for some reason, I felt like I was already missing him.
”But if you get married, Naans, we’ll make sure it’s all sorted out,” Hamzah stated, recovering quickly as he flashed his one-dimpled smile at Nani and winked.
Nani’s face immediately flushed again as she whacked him with the wooden spoon, and the two carried on with their banter. I turned away promptly, feeling the need to escape.
Maybe I should call Saaliha. She had said she wanted to chat to me later but didn’t want to divulge what it was about until the nikah was over. She had said if was something private and I assumed that it may have had something to do with her pregnancy. Whatever it was, I was determined to do whatever I needed to help her.
I breathed in as I backed myself against the wall in the kitchen scullery, hiding from everyone and taking a minute to breathe and settle my steady heart.
I knew that Zaid was with my Choti Kala, who was down for the week, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled to see how she and Zaid knocked it off. I literally wanted to whoop with joy when I saw her, knowing that she was the only person besides Maahira that I could actually tell about the court case. She had listened to me for a full half hour last night, and didn’t stop or interrupt me to tell me what a useless failure I was. She sympathised with Hamzah, but more importantly, she sympathised with me… and I needed that.
I needed someone to see that yes, although I had made mistakes and done stupid things, I wasn’t all bad.
I was about to reach for it when my phone pinged on the counter next to me and I reached over to see a message from Maahi.
How’s the new bride?
Maahira herself had been on a Samoosa run slash friend introduction in London and she was unsuccessfully trying to dodge a guy that seemed to be pretty invested in it, while she, however, wasn’t.
From what my cute and curvy friend told me, he was trying so hard to impress her, but all she said was that he wasn’t her type. I actullay felt quite sorry for him when she gave me her tight reply.
Stop grilling me. I only messaged to check on my baby sis. Give her all my love. Duaas always x
I shook my head while I reminded myself that I needed to go and check on my sister, and as I stashed my phone and made my way to the room door, I wasn’t sure whether to knock or just wait for the two of them to come out.
It had been almost 45 minutes, and I had planned for half an hour, so that we could get Jameela changed and ready for supper on time. A single, small function was our main priority, and even though it was at home, with Maghreb salaah in a few minutes, I knew that as much as he probably didn’t want to, Zubair had to leave the room soon.
I could feel myself feeling slightly nervy for my sister as I walked down the passage, still looking at my phone as Maahira gave me a brief account of her encounter with Mr Chunky, as she called him.
I tried to ignore the queasy feeling in my tummy, almost certain that it was brought on by the events of the day and the array of emotions of the past few weeks. I smiled as Maahi sent funny gif with some girl falling over laughing, barely feeling the eyes on me as I approached the doorway of Jameela’s room.
“What’s so funny?”
I almost jumped as I heard his voice, looking up immediately to see Hamzah’s brown eyes gazing at me intently.
He looked almost contemplative as he watched me, and for a moment, I felt so self-conscious that I didn’t know what to say. We had been avoiding each other (more me than him) for the past two days, mainly because I didn’t want to face up to what was going to happen soon. I figured cutting myself loose would make this easier for me. I didn’t think about what it would do to him.
“Just chatting to Maahi,” I said, stashing my phone in my abaya pocket and meeting his eye. I didn’t know what else to say. Saying more about her would mean more conversation, which would mean dragging him further into my life and I didn’t want to do that.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said quietly, and I realised that this passage was seeming increasingly narrow as we stood there and stared at each other like dimwits. “Running away. And I don’t like it.”
I breathed out as I tried to figure out what to do with my hands. I felt exposed, without my phone as my fidget toy. I felt like Hamzah was reading right into my soul, as he stared at me in the poorly lit passage. The noise down the hallway continued, but the two of us were almost stuck in time.
“Can I ask you something?”
His voice was still soft, and the door next to us was still closed. I was sure that their time was running out.
I nodded slowly, scanning his facial expression, and letting my eyes drop down to his chest, which was heaving a little more intensely than usual. My own heartbeat picked up as I wondered what he would say.
“Do you ever have regrets about our wedding day?” He asked softly, an expression flashing across his face, almost as if it pained him to say it. “Do you… ever… wish it wasn’t with me?”
His chest heaved slightly as he said it, and my own eyes filled with tears as I heard the fear in his voice.
All the Nikah vibes in the air had probably got his mind working and thinking all these obscene thoughts. The past week had been crazy with preparation and putting last minute things together, and for once, I was glad to have the distraction.
But what killed me was the fact that he he even thought this. I could not believe he actually asked that. How could he ever say that?
Yes, I knew that it wasn’t how we imagined it. It was rushed and for convenience and it was barely romantic. We had Zaid as our glue that was desperately trying to glue us together, and we had him as our first priority in everything that we did.
But, it still didn’t change the fact that I would have always chosen to do it with Hamzah. There was no question about that.
I frowned as I watched my husband now, his eyes telling a story that I’d never heard before. To think of Hamzah as threatened and insecure was a completely foreign concept for me.
Also, I hated that this happened and I knew that right then would not be a good time to say that I received a text from an unsaved number that I recognised as Faadil’s. I had deleted it and blocked him, but the fact that he had messaged me still threw me completely.
I was already shaking my head before I answered. There was no way that I had ever wanted it to be anyone but him. If he was talking about Faadil, he had no idea what that man had done to me. I didn’t want to think of what the content of that message may have been.
“Never,” I said with affirmation, looking him in the eye. “I’d never been so sure of anything else in my life, when I chose to marry you.”
Hamzah’s relief was palpable, but there were still questions in his eyes.
He wanted to know why. Why then, was I still willing to throw It all away. Materialistic possessions and status meant nothing to him. The pain and hurt this was causing was more than I void stomach, but for me, it was worth all that. It was my way of protecting him… his respect, his izzat.
I had been involved in so much of sin, and I couldn’t bear him to come down because of it. Seeing the look in his eyes reminded me of how off track I had been, and more than anything, I wanted to right everything that was wrong.
And I knew I shouldn’t be thinking that way, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late… was it too far gone?
Maybe it was just too much of sin. I always knew and believed that thing with zinaa was that you were punishing yourself twice. First, is the punishment that Allah promises when you do the actual act, and the sin that comes with it. Second, are the memories that haunt and punish not only you, but that person who comes to mean so much to you, for your entire life. The effect is an immense impact on marital life. Where zinaa was rife, spouses become quickly disobedient and dissatisfied with each other, which lead to more problems in day to day family life.
I just wished that it was clearer in my head at that time.
But, I knew and had to keep reminding myself that the door of repentance is wide open. I had to keep focusing on that while I grappled with desperately trying to get myself back on track.
I was about to tell Hamzah that I was sorry that he felt the way he did. I was about to tell him that it was all my fault that he felt the way he did, and that his insecurities had stemmed from on my own shortfalls. I wanted to apologise for ever getting involved with someone like Faadil, and putting him in the crap I did.
But just as I was about to open my mouth and tell him all this, the door at the end of the passage opened, and with Hamzah’s eyes still on me questioningly, my mouth had already opened and closed while I turned to watch my new brother-in-law peel his head out the door and grin at Hamzah.
”Sorry for making you late,” he said to Hamzah, and as I glimpsed my blushing sister behind him, I kind of figured that Hamzah and my conversation for the night was over. I sinking feeling formed in my gut, because I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to tell him all the things that I really needed to.
I ignored the gutted feeling, waiting for Zubair to join Hamzah down the passage, not even checking to see if he looked back at me. I was scared. Scared of what his gaze would hold if I looked too deeply. Scared that if I met his eyes, I would catch even more feelings than I already had, if that was even possible.
I sighed as I but my lip, holding back tears, not knowing why this made me so emotional. Emotions. Feelings. It was like they were wrecking havoc with my heart as I watched my sister retreat into the room, a picture of absolute bliss as she sighed and flung herself into the pillow. If I wasn’t so overwhelmed, I probably would have done the exact same thing, except for different reasons. Me burying my head in the pillow would probably entail a series of sobbing and I wasn’t yet ready to explain all my weird thought processes to my sister. I wasn’t too good with feelings.
Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Jameela’s face peeked at me, and I could already tell that my romantic sister was already well on her way into dreamland. She had that distant look in her eyes and everything about her was screaming lovesick puppy.
“So?” I said, forcing a smile on my face and wanting to get as much as I could out of her before the function would be on its way to starting.
I needed to have a final look at the set-up. I had spent the week sourcing some beautiful rugs to borrow and set up some fancy paper plates on the floor, and on of the most gorgeously designed table cloths. The whole theme was very minimal, but it was simple but elegant, and though Jameela wasn’t really interested in the details, I felt the overwhelming need to make this special for her. It had to feel like something that was worth celebrating.
I didn’t know that all she needed was Zubair.
She was grinning as she watched me now, a deep colour filling her cheeks as she spoke.
”My heart is so full right now,” she said softly, holding her chest. “Alhumdulillah.”
“What did he say?” I asked, expecting Zubair to be the type to pull out all the perfect swoon-worthy lines.
“Erm,” Jameela said, looking away as she twiddled with her thumbs.”He greeted, made a Duaa, asked if he could take my hand… and then… the usual…”
Oh my goodness. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there hadn’t been much talking today. She trailed off and ducked her head again, and I kind of read between the lines because, I mean, these two had being eyeing each other for months.
”Oh my gosh, Jamz,” I moaned, freaking out and covering my eye’s dramatically while she had the audacity to giggle.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, although I knew that it was all completely normal and exactly what was expected. It was just that, these small things were kind of freaking me out, and it wasn’t only about Jameela.
The fact was, everything was changing. Saaliha was having another baby. Jameela was now a real married woman. Nani was actually becoming nicer than she was usually (how long that would last, I wasn’t sure). As for Hamzah and I, it was only a matter of time before we would change as well.
And I knew that it wasn’t meant to be a punishment but as I watched my sister gushing over her new husband, her face particularly flushed as she described her first halaal encounter with him, which she had quickly decided was very unexpected but in a completely charming way that wilfully clouded their thought process, I couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of sadness.
And though I couldn’t go back and erase it… I wished, with all my heart, that my first touch, moment of intimacy and romance, had also been so beautifully pure and untainted. I couldn’t turn back the clock, but the immense regret that I felt right then, was something that I’d never experienced before. Maybe I needed to repent more. Maybe I needed to return to Allah, after straying away, time and time again.
Maybe after this was all over, Hamzah and I needed a brand new start, where everything can just be erased, and then build up again.
I breathed in as cousins realised that Zubair had left and it was time to start hounding Jameela while she slipped on her dress for the function, and I slipped out the door, trying to clear my head and check if my mother was ready for the function on time. She had been checking on the food that she had been preparing in the coffee shop kitchen, and though she had called her regular staff to assist, they still needed guidance.
She was now completely exhausted as she rushed off to change, and I made my way to check if all the pretty lighting I had installed was on. It was a gorgeous setting with fairy lights that winked at me, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart still in my chest as I thought of all the amazement this would bring for her.
I sat in the empty garage, staring at those twinkly lights, under the starry night, praying for an eternity of happiness for them.
Jameela was married. At nineteen. I wasn’t sure whether to freak out or be ecstatic. I was beyond emotions, and no words could describe the feelings that wrecked havoc in my mind.
My heart ached for her every desire to be fulfilled. I yearned for her heart to be overflowing with happiness, knowing that she chosen one of the best. I prayed for her spouse to be the most soothing coolness of her eyes. How I desperately wished for her marriage to be a one of innumerable blessings, more than she had ever envisioned before…
My achy chest felt like it was going to burst with emotion, but I steadied myself hastily and sucked in my breath as I heard footsteps behind me, not even realising that my eyes were wet with tears as the person approached.
It only took me a few more seconds to realise that it was Hamzah, who was probably looking for me with Zaid in his arms, and I hastily wiped my eyes as I turned to watch my two favourite boys come toward me, feeling completely disarmed as they did. Emotions were coursing through my veins as everything seemed to come into focus again, remembering everything that this day had held and everything that was to come after.
I gave them a shaky smile as they came toward me, thinking that I had hid my emotions very well until Hamzah’s thumb swiped against my cheek tenderly, a gesture that struck me so deeply that I didn’t know what else to say.
His questioning gaze was more than I could handle at that point, and hastily putting out my hands to take Zaid and distract myself, I knew that I had to avoid his questions at all costs.
And I was fully prepared with an answer, if he had to ask what was going on. I could tell him that some dust got in my eyes or that the lights were a bit too bright for my eyes. I could tell him that i was a little more tired than I realised, and this week has been more than I bargained for (at least that wasn’t a lie).
But he didn’t ask. As Zaid grabbed a fistful of my hijab and tugged on it, Hamzah’s gaze remained steadily on me, saying the words that none of us could.
His hands were stuffed in his pockets, as he took our surroundings in briefly, giving me a nod of approval to signal that it looked good.
“The hard work paid off,” he said simply, and I nodded back at him as I glanced at the settings appreciatively.
“Thanks for being so helpful,” I said softly, knowing that I had pushed him to the limit the day before while he fetched stuff for me from about 6 different places after work. “I owe you one.”
The last part was by the way. I wasn’t sure if I really meant it. I mean, I knew that it only made sense to pay a person back for what they did for you, some way or the other. And I would have bought him some pyjama pants or something else masculine as a usual payback, but things were a little too awkward to get personal.
“You do,” he said briefly, and I looked at Zaid as he wriggled around, begging to be let loose so he could crawl all over and destroy all my gorgeous settings.
I didn’t meet Hamzah’s eye. I had a feeling that doing so would be asking for a lot more than I anticipated. But he wasn’t deterred, as he continued to speak.
“I need a favour.”
I sucked in a breath and looked at him, but what I saw in his eyes wasn’t what I expected. What was in his eyes was pure desperation. What he needed from me was something very different to what I expected.
“Can we have the day to ourselves tomorrow?” He asked, glancing at Zaid briefly as he said it. “Maybe we can leave Zaid with Imraan and Saaliha? If you are okay with it, that is. I just want to spend some time with you. There’s something I want to show you.”
The last part was said in a rush and it took me a few seconds to realise that the swanky cool dude Hamzah that I had always known to be so smooth and easy-going, was actually very, very nervous.
His breathing had heightened as he watched me, and I really did not have the heart to say no to his request. More than anything else, I knew that I couldn’t just let our entire foundation… the crux of what we were, just collapse to the ground, without any regard for sentimentality. As much as the said feeling scared me, sentimentality is the thing that in retrospect, made the strife a little more worthwhile…
“I don’t know,” I said softly, looking at him as I could visibly see him stiffening at a possible rejection.
Zaid, almost on cue, instantly stuck his hand out to pinch the area between my eye and cheek, and I couldn’t help but swat his hand away, while looking at Hamzah accusingly.
“What was that for?” I mumbled, rubbing my eye. Zaid looked as contrite as ever. Little traitor.
Hamzah was grinning knowingly as I sighed and finally relented. Zaid wasn’t too happy with my answer.
“Okay,” I said finally, swallowing as I tried to imagine what my husband had planned, but knowing that I was probably going to regret giving into him.
He let out a giant breath, and it was almost as if he had mustered all the courage he could to bear his soul, and it had actually paid off.
I just hoped that this was just a little something harmless and bland that he wanted to do on the spur of the moment. All I was hoping for was for things to fall into place, the way we had discussed it. All I wanted was for his to be an easy transition, more for Hamzah’s than for anyone else.
He deserved so much more than I could give him. As much as I hated how this was all going, and as much I was falling apart over this, I knew very well that letting him go was the only way it could all fall into place…
Dear readers, I’m so sorry if the post is not up to scratch. I will probably do some edits in the morning when my brain is working. Just didn’t want to delay further
I’ll try and post again by the weekend InshaAllah.
Duaas
Much love
A x
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)
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
achancetochange 