Family, a bond so strong and true,
Through thick and thin, always there for you.
In joy and tears, a helping hand they lend,
Support and love, forever they'll defend.
Memories made, stories to be told,
In their embrace, warmth and love unfold.
Treasure your family, hold them near,
A blessing that lasts, forever sincere.
~ Islam S ~
🍿🍾🎪🥤 🤡
The stereo was playing the serene verse of Suratul Kahf in a podcast while the dryer hummed as Islam dried her soggy hair. She decided to pamper herself after days of wedding planning chaos. Zaynab's extravagant wedding plans weren't what she wanted.
Suddenly, someone turned off the stereo. "How dare you!" she exclaimed, her hair blocking her view, though she knew who it was.
"Breakfast," Firdausi sang in her melodious voice as she set down a tray of milked custard with strawberry and fluffy kosai wraps and bread slices.
"I just wanted to skip it. I'm really stressed," Islam said as she put down the dryer.
"Let me help," Firdausi offered, taking over the dryer. "If you don't eat, it will get cold, and you won't enjoy it. That's why Mama saved yours for last."
"Classic Mama," she drawled, casting a glance at Firdausi's oversized Manchester City jersey and those shorts barely covering her laps, exuding that cozy feeling of home.
"Speaking of Mama, I reckon she's having a tiff with Abba," Firdausi piped up, stretching it out. "They were acting all weird at dinner, especially when Yasin dropped that Malali Wonderland bomb."
"Maybe they're just wiped out. Mama's still bouncing back, and they're all trying to find their new groove," Islam mused, smoothly finishing her sentence and effortlessly tucking her hair into a bun with that vintage silky scrunchie.
"Girl, you're killing it," Firdausi praised. "Usman's gonna dig it," she teased, swiveling her chair and lightly tapping her arms as they both cracked up.
"Have you eaten?" Zaynab inquired from the slightly ajar door, decked out in a lace gown and silk scarves, back to her usual self.
"Not yet, I'm just about to," Islam replied as Firdausi playfully bumped into Zaynab on her way out.
"How's my look?" Islam twirled in her knee-length peignoir from last night, flaunting her fresh hairstyle.
"Flawless!" Zaynab gushed, holding her hands. "You're always a vision to me."
"Thanks," Islam quipped childishly. "You only say that when you're after something, spill the beans."
"I want you to escort Yasin to the Wonderland".
"Classic Mama," Islam drawled, resting her hands on her waist. "The doc's always on about you catching some Z's."
"Of course, that's all they ever say. My doc's never like, 'Go have a blast, eat tons, and live it up.' It's always 'Rest, rest, rest,'" Mama quipped, lending a hand with the tidying.
"Why me and not Firdausi?" Islam questioned, giving a little shrug.
"Because I'm talking to you," Mama replied, a smile playing on her lips.
"He could just roll with his school pals since it's their end-of-year party," she suggested.
"Nope, I want you to join him and have a blast," Zaynab added.
YOU ARE READING
Two Brothers, One Heart (Rewriting)
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