In Your Love... {Eternal Ishq #1}

Ch-30 Haunted by the Lucid Dream

                In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

‘Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon our beloved Prophet and Master Muhammad (s.a.s), all his blessed descendents and noble companions.’

                                                                                       -Aameen.

Dedicated to all the wonderful fathers out there, especially to my Abbu ;)

 

Chapter Thirty

Haunted by the Lucid Dream

 

Chennai, India

It was the cock’s deep majestic crowing from their neighbour’s garden that woke Humaira from the sleep she didn’t know she had fallen into. She opened her eyes, still in the position of Sujood and felt the soothing mantle of tranquility draped over her presence in the dimly lit room. Sitting up slowly, she felt her limbs cramped and numbed. Humaira knew it was time for Fajr Salah and wondered why she hadn’t slept on her bed after praying Tahajjud like she usually did.

Her tear stained face would have given her answer if she had looked into a mirror. But she only sat there upon the soft Musallah to dim awakening consciousness with an unusual pain somewhere in her heart and as she raised her face towards the pearly grey heavens visible through her window, the smile that had dawned upon her lips died as the memory of her dream resurfaced with startling clarity.

The large eyes instantly darkened with denial as she gazed at the sky with an imploring glance.

She had cried, oh she had cried so to Allah SWT during Tahajjud and had begged Him that the dream meant nothing, that it conveyed no sign from Him, that maybe it had all been her imagination… Yet yet she couldn’t forget the man’s face or his look or his words… now again, she was seeing it all unfold in her mind with chilling accuracy.

Humaira’s gaze was still looking beseechingly towards the heavens when her door opened and a drowsy Umar entered mumbling,

“Humair D..dwi…wake up! Fajr Salah…”

He stopped short seeing her already seated upon the prayer mat, then scratching his head still mumbling drowsily turned and left the room having imparted his mother’s command.

Passing a hand over her weary eyes and stifling the urge to burst into tears again, Humaira stood up and felt her stiff legs protest as she dragged them towards the bathroom to renew the wudu.

The day dawned bright and sunny and it was the usual bustle in the large house as the breakfast was being prepared while the men hurried themselves to get ready. As she spread the dastarkhaan, Humaira glanced towards her parents’ room and instinctively avoided it not wanting to meet her father now. He would most certainly ask her about the Istikhaara and she couldn’t bring herself to lie brazenly as not having seen anything.

The rich aroma of the mutton macaroni assaulted Humaira’s senses as she handed the second casserole to Kadhija who was now serving her family while Humaira tidied up the kitchen.

“Saira child, don’t play with the food…” Kadhija softly chided her eldest daughter who seated beside her husband looked like she was having a hard time swallowing even a bite.