Again Shauqina

Chapter 17 : Cold War

There was no bang-wham-fireworks-in-the-sky kind of thing after Isaac's reversion to Islam though knowing that Isaac was a Muslim changed a lot of things. Alhamdulillah, his father and mother met for the first time too and since it was a private, family affair, I just left it at that. Also, Isaac did not want anybody else yet to know, so I too left it at that. Another thing was, he would go missing around prayer times. However, this was a non-event and who would actually want to go looking for a grumpy person like him, right? Isaac had always came in and out of our group as and when he pleased. Since he did not want to make it public, I could not introduce him to Senior Wahid so that he may know which part of the college was available for the guys to perform our prayers. I sometimes worried that he may get caught—just him alone praying at any deserted staircases. However, I knew deep inside that Isaac knew how to fence for himself.

Ladies like me were luckier because we had the gardener's house to perform our prayers in. The college's gardener and his family were housed in a small cottage-like house at the back of the auditorium. He was about sixty years old but still healthy and wiry and had a ready smile. His wife, as elderly as he was, worked at the college's canteen and they never ever lock up their front door so that we were free to go in and perform our prayers. Their children were all grown up and had homes and families of their own so they very much welcomed us chatty ladies in their humble but homely abode. I was lucky too that aside from my study group, I was in an usrah group as well and my usrah's members were more than friends to me. They were my guides whenever I had any doubts on Islam and weekly, we would be reading from a chosen book on Islam and then discussing its contents. Amongst them all, I was closest to Senior Sofiah. Her smile would light up her face and make you feel warm as well. The twinkle in her eyes when she smiled; the fire from them when she passionately explained Islamic principles have always filled me with awe. I was however, the only 'hoodie' in the group. In fact, come to think of it, I was the only 'hoodie' in the whole college. However, there were many times, in my sujud—prostration before Allah, I thanked Him for giving me these precious pearls as friends. Without them, I surely would be a confused and lost soul.

Also, I have stopped talking to Isaac.

Yes, seriously. A Cold War of sorts developed between the two of us.

Isaac being Isaac and now that he was also from the same faith had made me feel awkward around him. Moreover, he wanted to still be called Zack. He was not used to 'Irwan' and refused to be called 'Hanif' either (which I rather fancy calling him this) and anyway, he thought that Zack was a normal, Muslim-kind of name so he saw no necessity to change that nickname. He flatly refused to be called 'Irwan'. 'I won't answer you if you call me that!' he had fiercely whispered the first schooling day after that fateful meeting with his mother at my house. I should feel angry at his pompousness but all I did was to look forlornly at my sneakers, making circles in the sand-less pavement. I was also feeling feverish after that meeting with Aunt Sumaiyah but I dismissed this as the flu bug already rampant in the college. This flu bug seemed to be a mutant of sorts for I felt weak and was starting to have rashes. Mak had nagged me to see the doctor but things have been pretty busy at home for obvious reasons, and in school too because the June semester break was around the corner and there were projects to complete.

An elderly voice cleared his throat and I looked up and found myself looking at Cikgu Thariq, a Malay Language teacher who taught the graduating classes. I liked him. He had a kind and wise look about him, with his silver hair and neatly trimmed silver beard. There was nothing wrong with his legs, but he walked with a cane—a sunnah of the Prophet (peace be upon him) which he staunchly uphold. He had this knack of accurately reading your mind and making astute comments. Right then, his gentle eyes bore right through me and I looked down again. I guessed it was not too difficult for Cikgu Thariq to seize the situation—he saw how Isaac talked to me and the expression of my face in response and must have put two and two together.