𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕥 مساوات [Completed]

Chapter 3

"I am going for some work, I will drop you at the shop and pick you up on my way back. You won't be stepping out of it until I come there." Saying he picked up the glass of water with his left hand and attached the back of his right hand at the bottom of the glass while drinking from it.

"You can drink from one hand, you know?" Before I could stop myself, my tongue slipped. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

He took his time while sipping water in three intervals and then turned towards me.

"It was narrated from Ibn ‘Umar (may Allah be pleased with him) that the Messenger of Allah (blessings and peace of Allah be upon him) said: “When one of you eats, let him eat with his right hand, and when he drinks, let him drink with his right hand, for the shaytaan eats with his left hand and drinks with his left hand.” And I had my right hand unwashed so I supported the glass with it so it would be easy for drinking. And I don't have to drink with my left hand alone. I am waiting in the car. Come quickly."

Saying he was out of the dining room. But his brief explanation threw me in a pit of oblivion. Am I even capable to be called a muslim?

I shook my head, wiped my mouth, and followed him.

He dropped me in the boutique, probably his friend's. Because he instructed the male manager, there was one female manager too, to not let me step out of it until he arrives to pick me up! Huh! I just rolled my eyes and followed the lady inside towards the casual clothes section.

"Ufff! I don't like anything here!" The sell girl was just showing similar pieces all along, whose prices not to mention, reached the sky. And I was not capable enough. SH should have known it. I huffed. "I don't want to see anything." I buried my face in my hands when a soft voice reached my ears.

"Let it be Anisa, I am free now, I will guide her." I looked up to see a lady in black niqab taking Anisa's place who smiled gratefully in return.

"So what is the problem?" That lady asked tol sweetly that it became hard for me to even snap at her.

"I don't have enough money." I folded my hands on my chest and looked away. I was not embarrassed at my condition. "Hell! I didn't even plan to shop. I would have at least saved some money." I don't myself understand why I was even telling her everything.

"Everything will be fine." Saying she opened her niqab. I looked around to see we were alone in this corner. "You know Allah is with those who are patient. Do sabr. The amount of reward in return of sabr is uncountable. And you will wish on the day of judgement, that may Allah have tested you more and you would have been patient about it after seeing the ajr of sabr." Her voice was so soothing and comforting that I felt myself tearing up.

"What is your name?" I needed to know, don't know why.

"Azferene Wajahat." She gave me a full blown smile. Her face radiating with noor. Her words were as soothing as water in the cold dessert.

"Ilhaam." I whispered. "Unfortunately I don't have parents to use their name as a suffix." I smiled at her and was about to welcome sympathy which I usually get but instead she looked at me like she could read my soul.

"I will tell you my story...it seems like your husband forgot that he has a  beautiful wife waiting for him." She teased me in the end, making my eyes pop out of my skull and I groaned. Why does everybody think we are husband and wife?

"He is not my husband." I looked away and she understood I didn't want to talk about it so she started telling me how she got married.

To say it was shocking to know that she went through too much was an understatement. But when she said she was his second wife, I lost my cool.
"WHAT?" My voice raised a number of octaves. But she shushed me down.