The Shades of Spring

A Slow Waltz of Feelings

You know how they say time stops and the moon grows ten fold and the wind is super gentle when you see the love of your life? All that is pure nonsense. However, it may have been because it was broad daylight and he was standing indoors in an air conditioned coffee shop qeue to grab a drink.

But the lights did suddenly come in sharp focus and the sounds in the room dropped to a radio silence when he spotted her just outside the glass wall that separated the lounge from the external tables. He didn't fixate on her face or her clothes, but rather on how quickly his pulse shot like an arrow and the spontaneous desire to announce her his presence. But with a strength which could rival that of Hercules with the horses, he tore his gaze away from her, mindful of His Lord watching him.

He had expertly avoided mentioning her or fishing for updates on Sidra even when he visited Musa in his new home, where he was welcomed with open arms and spent a joyful evening with the newly wedded couple. It wasn't because he was trying to run from his feelings, rather because it was not proper of him to lend her too much thought when he didn't know if could proceed down the path he dreamt of. His prayers never ceased, but nor did his feelings dim, but by all rights, there was no justification in thinking too much about a nonmahram when his position wasn't clear. Yet here she was, seated with Hamza just outside his building with an air of sacredness around her.
Seeking repentance for his unrestrained gaze, he quickly left the shop with his order without once looking back.

If he was going to pursue her, he swore it wouldn't be in any improper way. Before anything and everything, he had to know he was worthy of her.

"He has changed a lot," Hafsa was saying with her hands doused in soapy water while doing the dishes. "He looks just as young, but his eyes seem to have aged ten years, Sid. I honestly feel-" Sidra heard her sigh on the other end and a shuffling which suggested her friend was moving away from the sink "-very bad for dragging you all into this mess."

"Haffi kiddo," Sidra consoled the distressed woman who was trying to suppress a sniffle, "I keep telling you it was Qadr Allah. You didn't deliberately woo that harami or join him on a ride, okay? He tried to harm you. We tried to protect you. That's it. Allah destined us to do it. For the love of Allah, don't be so hard on yourself."

"I wish I had your courage."

"Nope. You have your own. By the way, isn't your hubby bubby supposed to be home in a couple minutes?"

"Yes," she drawled, "and I have to get cleaned up. Love you Sidra. And also, if you see Ayaan, please help that guy. You have a way with words."

"In Sha Allah. Now go Cinderella, clean up."

As soon as she hung up, her own problems came to mind. Half employment was already weighing heavily on her, but it was a million times worse knowing she couldn't just get a job as easily as losing one. All these years she'd told herself she wanted to earn only to alleviate the burden of her parents, but now she came to realise it had also given her a sense of control. She felt like she was in charge of at least a minute portion of her life and possessed something called her very own to fall back on; now the rug was swept from beneath her feet. With a laborious sigh as was common of her recent past, she fixed her hijab one last time and descended the stairs to grab a snack before leaving for the library.

Daylight had a weird effect on the outer walls of the building. The structure that looked so fascinating when lit at the base was reduced to a common brick house with a touch of architectural expertise under the rays of the sun. At least the light made the flowers appear brighter as she strolled through the greenery to get to the said building.

All the way to work she couldn't stop thinking how much Hafsa still blamed herself for the events that threw their lives for a spin. Even Musa had told her a couple times to try and talk her out of it. Given all their circumstances, Musa and Hafsa appeared to her as a beautiful couple joined by the souls. There was nothing superficial about their love eventhough both of them were handsome in terms of appearance. Any time they walked out in public dressed in the simplest clothes, they were sure to turn heads by their energy. They bore the weight of each other so beautifully it seemed effortless. She smiled at how things had turned out after all. She remembered a certain day she thought the MuHaf union had more obstacles to pass than her education and dreams; now, that ship was sailing gaily while she was stranded on an iceberg in the middle of nowhere.
Detaching herself from the poisonous thoughts, she schooled her features before entering the library.

She checked the time on the fingerprint sensor, ten minutes early. Alhamdulillah. She nodded at Jo before turning down the miscellaneous aisle to pick a book to read while she waited for her shift to start.
Apparently all the good books were pre-borrowed, causing her to unhappily hop from aisle to aisle and to other floors in search of something worth reading. At long last, she decided on a dull gray covered book with tiny print which appeared to be some classic literature. Sidra carried it to a nearby table and found herself sharing the space with her good old friend.
"Mr Menikov!" she exclaimed happily, "You're early."
"I heard you changed your shift, kid."
"Aww, that's so sweet of you. So tell me, how have you been?"
"Yes, yes," he replied rather unenthusiastically, "you gush when I take the time to find you. Otherwise you don't make an effort to find your old friend."
"I'm sincerely sorry, friend. Things are still choppy up here," she pointed to her head, making him roll his eyes. "Also, your English has blown me away, old man. You speak without any grammatical errors."
"I see you're deflecting, but compliment taken. What's more? I'm ready with my.....uhm.....review of Mr Darcy."
"Woah. You've been busy. But I've got like....let's say, a couple minutes only. So executive summary, twenty five words or less."
He squinted at her quizzically before saying, "No need to put me down like that. I know the language. But not your terms. What is executive summary?"
"No no," she hastily amended, "I didn't mean to do that. It's me asking for a short answer."
"Oh....Anyway. He is what you would call a...uhm...jerk with a heart of gold. He mends, I think. But I much better like the gentleman who wins Marianne."
"Colonel Brandon. And I heartily agree. I always thought Darcy was overrated."
"Hmph...good to hear," he glanced at her book cover. "Is that any good?"
"Dunno. I haven't read yet."
"Oh....then that one?" he pointed a wrinkled finger at an abandoned book at the edge of the table she'd missed. The bright green cover was more flashy with a shaft of sunlight hitting it like the bull's eye.

"That's excellent," she felt her eyes crinkle in memory of an incident that occured ages ago. It sort of surprised her how warm seeing the book made her feel. Almost like meeting a forgotten friend.

She picked up the book with a faraway expression on her face and turned it back and front in her hand, recalling how much had changed since the last time she touched it. Naturally, she wondered how Ayaan was doing since his return. According to Musa, he was busy with Law School work which was scheduled to commence in the upcoming week. She hoped he was settling comfortably.

She turned to a random page and started reading, her smile growing wider when her eyes fell on Strategy is empty without change, empty without passion, and empty without people willing to confront the void. Sidra could almost hear Hafsa's classic exasperated sigh. She wished she was here too. She read on, acutely aware of her shift drawing closer and briefly glanced to make sure she was close enough to the stairs in case the bird faced coordinator came yabbering down the central stairs. She dropped her gaze and almost immediately lifted them, to clash with familiar stormy orbs that were mildly shocked to meet her dark ones. At first she thought it was her own head but registered it to be real when Ayaan sheepishly smiled at her and looked both ways reluctantly before walking up to her.

"Assalamu alaikum," she greeted him.
"Wa alaikum-us-salaam. How have you been?"
"Alhamdulillah. Heard you came back. But I wasn't expecting to see you here."
He rubbed his neck before answering in a soft tone, "It's my...first time back. I thought daylight would be less..."
She sympathised with him, "It gets better In Sha Allah, Ayaan. Believe me, my first time, I all but fled home. But I think it's okay now."
"Alhamdulillah," he said vacantly.
"Alhamdulillah," she echoed.

Lowering his gaze, his eyes naturally fell on the bright green cover and pulled him far back to an older encounter. Same book, same people, same place....but lives flipped upside down. There was a gulf the size of a continent between his first time back and his first time ever.