“Argh, fine! But you’re making me waffles too!”

“Coming right up!” He saluted and turned to make his way out. “Last one to the kitchen’s a rotten egg!” he suddenly yelled and I rolled my eyes at his childishness before running out after him. 


“Can you try to at least look a little excited for this?” Mira huffed, throwing the dress she was holding onto the bed with defeat.

“I’m sorry OK?! I’m just really not feeling this meeting Mira,” I explained tiredly, moving to sit on the one small patch of my bed that wasn’t covered in dresses, skirts and scarfs. 

“How come? What’s going through your mind?” she asked, a flash of worry in her eyes.

“I have no energy for the ‘so, what do you do?’, ‘oh, that’s nice’, ‘what’re your hobbies?’” I mimicked in an overly chirpy voice. 

It was Sunday afternoon, and I would be encountering the one and only Tariq Abdo tonight for our first meeting. After giving the answer to baba last night, he had called him first thing this morning to let him know, as well as asking if he was available tonight. I didn’t quite approve of how fast the meeting was set up, but according to baba, he had been waiting over a week for our answer so he felt it was only right to have him come over straight away. 

I think Samir might have something to do with it too. I heard him mumbling something to baba about how he was leaving tomorrow and wanted to meet the man before he left.

So here were me and Mira, attempting to create a semi-formal, modest outfit for this evening but failing miserably, since I was not co-operating at all. If I shrugged my shoulder at another item of clothing, I think Mira would self-combust. 

“I know it all seems a little monotonous but it won’t be like that all the time. Once you overcome this first formal and boring part, it’ll eventually flow nicely - once you’ve found the right person, that is.”

I sighed. “I just wish it was a little easier, that’s all.” 

“There is nothing easy about marriage, Sameena. And you know that Allah SWT will reward you for doing the right thing by staying within the boundaries and limits of Islam when it comes to finding ‘the one’. How many girls do we know who’ve taken it into their own hands to go off and find their prince charming.” 

“Too many,” I mumbled. “But you’re right. I just hope he comes soon! I’m sick of waiting!” I joked. 

She gave a short laugh. “Yeah,” she muttered, playing with her ring. “At least you get proposals though, right?” Although she tried to play it off cool, I could see the sadness she was trying to veil with her faltering smile. She stared down at the floor once she saw my expression and nervously began to playplast with a purple strand of hair.

“Hey,” I began, moving to put my arm around her shoulder. “Your time will come too. I guess we both just have to be patient. I know it sounds corny, but we’ve got each other right now and that’s all that matters.” 

An Echoing Race.Read this story for FREE!