The Shades of Spring

Your Request Has Been Processed

You know how some people say 'this is too good to be true' and 'it doesn't happen that way' and 'only in fiction'... They're all wrong. Miracles happen in real life but we are too dense to see them. And when we do, we get blown away; just like Ayaan Ibrahim was.

For several seconds he stared at his father on the screen, completely dumb founded and unable to process what he'd just heard.
Sidra's father and I've been talking for some time now. About you and her. What do you think?
Internally, he was tearing apart his house while expressively monologuing about what he thought about Sidra Jameel; while on the outside, no words made it through the race to his throat and out of his voice box.

"Ayaan? Ayaan? Boy? I'm sorry. It's awkward. Yeah. I'll-"
"No!"
Mas'ud lost about a pint of blood from his face before his son pushed away his assignments and brought the screen closer to himself.
"No," he repeated more calmly this time, "I mean.....is this a prank?"
"I'm much too old for pranking, son. But no, this isn't a prank. They're genuinely interested in you for their daughter."

Again Ayaan wondered why his life was both a novel and a novelty at the same time. How many scenarios had he pictured of himself asking for her hand in marriage and being accepted by her parents and then priding himself as the brave man who sought the love of his life? But here He was, making her parents ask for him. Allah definitely was a great author. As politely as possible without coming off as too hasty or too eager, he asked his father for all the details that had led up to this excellent gust of wind that propelled his favourite ship forward; yes, he ardently shipped Sidyaan.
"So you're telling me, that you and Jameel...Dad.... have been discussing a potential alliance between his daughter and myself?"
"Is it wrong?"
"No. Of course not. Just....strange."
"Why?" his father snorted, "because the lady's side made the first move?" He further snorted when his son nodded his confirmation. "Remember it was Khadeejah Radhiyallahu Anha who asked for the Prophet's hand."
"I rest my case. And yeah..." Ayaan tapered off absently again.
"Ayaan. Look. You don't have to answer immediately. Sleep on it, take a few days and let me know. Okay? I just want you to know, nobody is forcing you to take a step."

"I know Papa. I'll let you know."

"Okay. Then....I guess I'll just go back to old man work? Talk to Sara when you get time. I haven't told her yet."

"Old man work is for old men. Not the youth like you," Ayaan grinned cheekily because he just couldn't stop smiling and terribly needed to cover it up. "I love you, Papa."

"Hmmm... Assalamu alaikum."

"Wa alaikum-us-salaam." After hanging up, he looked at the chat blankly for a minute, thinking to himself about everything he'd heard.
Just once Papa; I wish you'd say it back.
But his thoughts soon tunneled under ordinary topics to surface in the greatest discovery of his heart; a new chamber unearthed, that looked uncannily like a throne room fit for the greatest queen. And of course, gracing the chamber and outshining all the jewels was a special name waiting to be crowned. Sidrathul Munthaha Jameel.
He was both elated and cripplingly terrified by the news. If he said yes, then it would be for real and he'd have to meet her parents for it and if he made a fool of himself? He'd have gone so close to having her and then get forever barred from her life. But if he didn't go, that would be the end of a chapter that had great potential to be the best beginning in his life.

He wondered suddenly if she played any part in the proposal. Was it Sidra who....? Was it? Could it be? Was it possible she....liked him?

He sank into a Sujood that lasted a long while and when he came up from which, his face was pink and eyes redrimmed with crying. His neck hurt immensely but his heart hurt most of all, trying to go in a hundred million directions towards a hundred different endings at one time. He didn't understand the tears. Shouldn't he be happy? Like, if his father gave him this choice, and if her father proposed this, didn't it mean the hard job of convincing parents was over and it made things simpler for him? They why was he crying? Why the irrational fear and the sudden urge to run?
He didn't understand, but he ran. Out of his room, down the street, across the park, around the fountain and he kept running until he found himself at the steps of a masjid he'd never been into. With shaky steps and now sure that the tears were coming because he was too scared of losing her in some way, he stepped past the gates and let himself into the house of Allah where he felt closer to peace.

Inside their modest residence, some good old fashioned drama was taking place in the living room.
Lead role- Sidra. Co-actors- her mother, Issam, his mother, his cousin who was her good friend and Hamza. Scene? Upset very pregnant niece of Hala trying to persuade her old friend Sidra to marry her cousin Issam who currently looked on the verge of flipping a table and carrying his cousin away; or much likely throwing her to the moon so he wouldn't have to find a house outside earth and reinvent himself after the embarrassment she was causing.
"Areej. Let's go," he called again.
"Oh shush you! She's my friend. She will understand."
Issam wondered what the politest way to tell her he had zero interest in the alliance from the beginning, was, without offending Sidra of whom he certainly had a high opinion; though not high enough to fall in love.

"Areej, sweetie. Don't exert yourself. We're all still friends. It's her choice."

"No aunty. She just doesn't see it yet. But Issam and-"

"-Areej," cut in the girl in question who'd now had enough of the stupid scene to put her foot down. Gently, she removed her hand from her friend's clasp, "Aunty Hala is correct. Issam is a great man and I've heard so much about him. But I just don't see this working out. No hard feelings on either side."

Baffled, Areej pouted at her aunt who nodded agreement with Sidra's words. Then she averted her gaze to her cousin who gave her a murderous look that quickly turned into annoyance after she tried puppy eyes on him.
"I don't mean to offend any one. But like Sidra told, I don't see this working out either. We both met once because our parents asked us to give it a shot and then we agree it's not...it's just... it's not working. We respect each other but nothing else."

Sidra was grateful to know she'd not hurt him. At least the feelings were mutual; or the lack thereof. Areej suddenly seemed to have woken up from her stupor and stared at the assembled crowd around her, all of them appearing to be in various stages of sympathy. Temper flared inside her and she quickly brushed away the tears.
"Okay. Fine. Don't tell me I never tried. It's your wish. Cool. It's fine Sid. You'll find a good man. And you too, Issam. You'll find someone who isn't half as dense as you are. Shall we go?"

"Pregnancy hormones," Issam mouthed to Sidra apologetically which she fully accepted and gave a subtle nod. "There. Aameen. Is it a girl or a boy?"

"We'll find out tomorrow after the scan," Areej answered excitedly almost as if someone had hit a switch in her head that made her go from fussy to content in 0.001 seconds. The remaining minutes were happy and calm as long as Issam stayed well away from his cousin and avoided her eyes, so he devoted all his attention to Hamza who was explaining the latest update in some game to him.

They had tea together and parted, but not before Hala pulled Sidra aside in the kitchen.
"Look here, darling. I'm so sorry about Areej. You know she's...not stable after she lost her previous child. Right? Don't take anything personally. You have my blessings whomever you marry and I only pray you are happy always. Okay? And Issam is so embarrassed, or he'd have told you the same thing."

"It's okay. I know Aunt. I pray Areej has a safe delivery this time. Also Aameen for your Dua. I will keep praying that Issam finds a wife who will look after his mother like hers. He's a good guy. Great in fact. But we just aren't compatible."

"I know," Hala kissed Sidra's lowered forehead lovingly with a fond smile. "Allah has a Qadr written. Don't forget to invite me for the Waleema."

"You're VIP."

After they left, Sidra replayed that last conversation many times in her head. How did she know Issam was not compatible? He was in fact a great man and to put it fashionably, awesome husband material. But still he lacked something she searched for. Except neither she knew what it was. Then again she wondered how she'd recognise the compatible one. How?
A faint whisper emanated from a secret corner of her mind. Just a single word that momentarily froze her insides but when she looked for it, it was gone, replaced by a soft echoing laughter and a slightly higher pulse in her chest.