Journey to 'I do'

27 - Fahds Wedding

NARRATORS POV

The sun hung in the sky, casting a warm glow over the day that was meant for joyous celebrations. Yet, within the hearts of Aisha and Muhammad, a storm of conflicting emotions raged.

Aisha stood before her mirror, draped in a flowing blue lace A-line dress that gently swayed with every movement. The silver slippers adorned her feet, reflecting a muted glimmer that seemed to echo the subdued tone of her emotions. The festive colors around her felt distant as she navigated the delicate balance between the joyous occasion and the remnants of a love that once bloomed.

The air was filled with the rich aroma of food and the cheerful chatter of those preparing for the daurin aure. In the midst of the celebration, Aisha grappled with the weight of recent events.

Meanwhile, Muhammad stood in solitude, getting ready to step into the ceremony. He adorned himself in a blue kaftan, the fabric cascading elegantly as he put the babban riga on top. The air around him held a different gravity, with the anticipation of the impending nikkah.

The distant sound of a horn pierced the air, signaling Umar's arrival, and Muhammad, made his way outside. The journey to the mosque for Fahd's nikkah unfolded in silence.

Umar steered the car smoothly through the bustling streets, the rhythmic hum of the engine accentuating the uneasy silence between the two friends. Muhammad stared out of the window, the passing scenes blurred by the conflicting thoughts racing through his mind.

Umar, sensing the heaviness in the air, ventured cautiously, "Bro, how did it go with Aisha?"

Muhammad's gaze remained fixed outside, his words measured, "We've decided it's best to part ways. It wasn't working out."

Umar shot a concerned glance at his friend, "What do you mean it wasn't working out? You started dating like 2 days ago. Did something happen?"

Muhammad sighed, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration, "Circumstances change, Umar. She doesn't want to be married to me."

The car moved through the familiar streets, shadows dancing on the road as they delved into a conversation laden with unspoken emotions. Umar pressed further, "Is there more to it? Talk to me bro"

Muhammad hesitated before offering a glimpse into the complexities of the situation, "Our backgrounds, expectations... they're too different. Aisha has reservations, doubts."

Umar nodded, absorbing the fragments of a story that unfolded between the lines.

As they stepped out of the car at the mosque, Fahd, the embodiment of joy, awaited them, adorned in a radiant white kaftan that seemed to amplify his happiness. His smile was infectious as he greeted his father's friends, basking in the anticipation of marrying the love of his life.

Muhammad and Umar approached Fahd, joining the chorus of well-wishers. When Muhammad extended his hand for a congratulatory handshake, Fahd seized the moment, his grip firm, and his words laced with a solemn warning, "Don't play with her." The weight of those words lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities veiled beneath the surface. Muhammad maintained his composure, nodding in response. Little did Fahd know of the emotional turbulence that had already unfolded between Muhammad and Aisha.

The nikkah went smoothly. As everyone got ready to head to the bride's house, Muhammad quietly requested Umar to drop him off at home. He knew A'isha would be there and he didn't want to have to bump into her.

The news of Ya Fahd's marriage brought bittersweet tears to her and her family – joy for him, but sadness at the thought of him leaving home. Aisha, on her way to Ya Fahd's house from the bride's house, prepared for the Budan Kai. Despite her efforts to greet everyone with a bright smile, questions and comments about her own life swirled around her from aunties and gossipy guests. While attending to guests, Aisha tried to ignore the unwanted comments and questions.