Aaliyah to the World

54 | The World To Aaliyah

I cleared my throat, blinked back the tears and used a few seconds to get a hold of myself before speaking.

"I'm 24. I don't have any kids but I'm married."

"Who is the lucky man?"

I smiled weakly, almost turning bitter like my sweet turned sour marriage, "I prefer to keep my marriage life out of the limelight so I'd like to skip this question."

She nodded, "That's understandable. So tell us what motivated you to write."

"There's..." I paused, wishing for a second that Aunty Raliya and Nadiya would be watching this, "So much, a lot of factors. My adolescence life being the major then my adulthood."

"Can you tell us all about it?"

"Sure, why not?" I wrapped both hands together so that the presenter wouldn't notice how fidgety I was, "Did you ever wish that you could grow a few years older? Just to earn respect from people, especially your parents and other family relations."

"At 19, I lost both my parents. Who would've thought that my own blood would betray me? After everything, they had the guts to try and control my life. That brings me back to my previous question. At 20, shouldn't I be in school trying to complete my education?" I asked calmly.

"Sadly, those people are the reason I was at home sulking. I just wished I was older then so I could make decisions without an elder coming in or making me review it when I'm sure it's for my own good."

"My life was sad. But I knew there was someone out there living a worse life. Soon, I gave up. All I said to myself was 'a few more years' and a year later, an opportunity presented itself. I remembered my father had an account created for me. It was a savings account only I and my parents knew about. He used to say anything can happen to anyone at anytime so he told me I could reach out to the bank at a time he and my mother were no more."

"It was a lot of work but I got it anyways. I wish this was relateable so I'd be able to grieve with someone. I was forced to grow up and take the wheels of my life without warning. So you see, my wish to grow a few years older came true. In a way. I learnt something from all this, sometimes, it's not what you wish for that's always good for you."

"How about your husband? How has he helped you get over this passage in your life?" She implored.

"My husband has tasted another flavour of pain, different from mine. We both couldn't relate. All we could do was find a way to share each other's anguish which was the love we showered upon each other. He taught me the meaning of the word 'hustle'. If you know, you know." I laughed curtly, knowing no one actually knew what Hamza really went through.

"What can I say? My story is a long and sad tale but I wouldn't change it for the world. It strengthened my Iman and made me the strong person I am today."

"But why isn't there an epilogue like in most stories?" She questions.

"It doesn't need one." I stated, but I could see it wasn't enough for her and the viewers probably, "My story-our story, doesn't have an end. It continues to unfold and teach us new things everyday till the angel of death comes knocking on our door."

"People evolve, we all change. The good will arrive and depart with the bad, and so, the sadness will end and happiness will revolve around our beautiful lives. It's all about salat and how we try to please Allah. The Almighty!"

"I wouldn't want to make this a mini sermon so I'll end it here. I'd be willing to have this discussion on another day."

"She's a sayyidda too. Masha Allah! There's one last question for you before we take a break."