The Shades of Spring

Sowing seeds for Spring to nurture

Life is very much like a coin flip. When things spiral out of control, beyond reach, your indecision is replaced by a conscious or unconscious desire for the outcome your heart secretly wants. And when it lands the way you hoped it wouldn't, will it really stop you from going after your dreams?

She set down the pen with a sigh as heavy as the dark clouds looming over the city centre. She wondered again why this had to hurt so much; but alas, the answer wasn't a secret.
Like every time in her entire life, once she hoped for something, she fantasised about it and went so far into the future plans, that if the something evaded her grip, she was forced to break apart an entire universe within. With every star that collapsed, the light dimmed and dimmed and dimmed until pitch black surrounded her.

She smiled mirthlessly at the irony of the situation. How fantastic was it that the alternate meaning of her name was "of the stars", yet her sky was dark as sin; devoid of the moon she once prayed for and now losing stars that once tricked her into believing they were suns. At least it made for a profound thought, perhaps she would even add it to her list of favourite, personal wordings.
Questioning His Qadr? Again? Ma Sha Allah.
Her own thought startled her into vigorously shaking her head; a wasted attempt to break free of the chains with which disappointment reached for a distant blasphemy. She repeated Asthaghfirullahil Azheem several times under her breath, left the yard and wandered into the house.

She checked the wall clock, registering the time as post Dhuhr, which meant the family was more or less sleeping in their private quarters. Silence was usually a soothing companion, but not when screams echo loudly within the head. Therefore, determined to find someone to talk to, Sidra composed her features and jogged to her mother's room with the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star emanating as a hum on her lips.

She didn't get far before Hamza skipped down the stairs holding her phone aloft.
"Call for you!!!!"

"I'm right here. Don't blast my ear drums," she picked it out of his fingers and curiously eyed the unknown number. Again?
"Hello?" she spoke tentatively.

"Ms. Sidra Jameel?" asked a voice with a posh British accent.

"Your good name, Sir?" she asked neither refuting nor affirming his assumption.

"Good day Ma'am. I'm Tony Dykes from ZeeTech, The Online Campus. You did email us your queries, yes Ma'am?"

A horrible feeling crept up her insides because never had she even heard of this campus, regardless she decided to roll with it. "Yes, Sir."

"Grand. So Ma'am, we've sent you a detailed response to your email and meanwhile, we find your academic résumé quite fascinating. If you would please answer the following questions...-"

Soon, Thahani was sitting opposite Sidra, nodding along encouragingly to the call on speaker and between them, the conversation with ZeeTech was successfully concluded, with promises of another call or email. At long last, Sidra turned her eyes on her sister who was watching her face with a slight smile.
"You did this?"

Thahani smiled and leaned back, "Zubair did it."

"Zub-"

"First of all, you told not to tell Mama. Zubair isn't Mama. Second of all, after your second carnival I knew something was wrong. So I did what I had to do."

Though her ego was a little uncomfortable in the reception of this news, Sidra was warmed to her bones with the display of affection. "And how did you tell him?"

Thahani's story was short and sweet; where Zubair found out by simply observing his wife, and then bombarding her with a rapid round of questions before she was properly prepared to veil the truth. And thus, he learned of the turmoil in his sister's mind and took it upon himself to help her out. Google yielded the ZeeTech, husband and wife prepared a résumé, created an email in Sidra's name and hit send.
Alhamdulillah, as all good intentions, this too was rewarded by Allah with speedy results.

Quite overcome by gratitude, Sidra pulled Thahani into a bone-crushing hug and repaid her with every Dua she could think of. "I want you to know, regardless of how this plays out, that I am immensely indebted for your intentions. Where's Zuby?"

____________________

When the moon hid behind her cloudy veil, a sparkly eyed girl was raising her head from the musallah with a heart lighter than the nocturnal beauty's veil.
Tears streamed down her face, dripped off her chin and were either absorbed by her long prayer garbs or softly dropped onto the prayer mat. Hamdh, Praise, echoed in the chambers of her heart and broke out with soft sobs that escaped her lips.

Ya Wahhab! I have been ungrateful. Truly. I have been such a sinner. Yet You help me. Ya Rahman! How infinite Your Mercy that it reaches this thankless sinner, way below the ranks of Your Beloved Rasool and his pious companions! Wallahi! Your Mercy is always greater than my sin.

For the first time in recent history, as far as memory served, her goal had been reached. The three months she spent getting rejected and hanging uncertainly seemed to vanish when compared to the amazing offer that now sat in her email. Two days after the initial phonecall, she received a letter approving her enrollment into the newest Web Developing Degree programme that ran two years in total with a six month foundation course. Upon successful completion of the two year programme, Sidra would be able to apply to esteemed companies and earn twice the amount she earned from both her jobs at present put together. After three years of bitter highschool, a bud of hope shyly thrust its head through the cracked soil of her heart.

__________

A spring in her step? No. There was an invisible load lifted right off her shoulders, which almost made her look younger.
Seeing her friend at work that day, Hafsa was positively shaken by how happy she looked and what a contrast it made with her usual appearance. With a pang of her heart, Hafsa realised in new light exactly how beaten and tired Sidra had looked all along, yet with her quiet disposition and excellent skill of keeping the attention off herself, Sidra had expertly covered up the exhaustion and played it down.

"May Allah increase your happiness in every way and bless you with the absolute best. What's making you bounce today?" she ventured to ask her friend with a smile; even if she didn't know why.
"Aameen wa iyyaki fid Dunya Wal Aakhira. Got accepted at an Institute..!" she in turn whisper squealed.

"Ya Rahman! Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. I'm sooooo happy for you..!"

"Congratulations on the celebration," chimed in a familiar baritone voice, "Share?"

Sidra turned to face Musa with all her happiness compressed into a small smile. "Got something I've been wanting for a long time. Alhamdulillah."

Musa cocked his head questioningly, but returned her smile with a similar one, "Alhamdulillah. May Allah make your happiness eternal."

"Aameen wa iyyak."

With another smile for Sidra and a small nod at Hafsa, he continued on his way to the lunchroom with a preoccupied look. As usual, Sidra watched his body language for a tell; recieving none, she instead turned her attention to Hafsa. The girl's olive skin was dazzlingly clear in the afternoon sunlight and the shafts of light turned her honeycomb irises almost golden. Under her breath, Sidra recited a small Dua to ward off any evil eye from her friend. Yet, in those limpid eyes, below the the swirling pools of honey, troubled waters lapped in concealed waves.

Sidra watched her more closely before Hafsa's eyes met hers with a start. In the pit of Hafsa's stomach, an anchor dropped with a dull splash when she felt Sidra's gaze penetrate her soul. Part of her was embarrassed. Another part was secretly relieved because she was the only person who could give impartial advice.

Sidra observed Hafsa till the latter felt her insides quiver, then a sudden smile broke across Sidra's face and she squeezed Hafsa's hand. Again, Hafsa was shocked at how well Sidra gauged her and was able to communicate a million thoughts with a single action.

For the rest of the day, though Hafsa expected a discussion it never came. Sidra didn't give her any knowing smiles nor watch her face when Musa walked by. But she knew, she just knew, Sidra was watching her.