ZIAM - I FIGURED IT OUT

Chapter 4

The clothing was somehow baggy for Zayn. Since this is Friday, prayer will extend to a bit more time, he remembered. Once Malik completed his lunch they decided to go out. From East Bowling to Jamiyat Tablig Ul Islam, it's half an hour walk, prayer will begin by 12:45, and there will be a lot of people. Zayn was thankful that he knew how to do the process even though he doesn't follow it. At the lost side of the mountain clouds were descending, not the bluish-painted one, but a lot darker, Malik had an umbrella with him in case it rains. They got out of the house - all the houses there in BD4 kind of looked similar, with brown bricks and open windows colored in white, with fences separating each house and the grassy front yard, wet by the morning drizzle. Ziva was peeking through the window and waved them bye, Zayn waved back and started walking alongside his father. After a couple of steps walk, they turned right at the edge of the road, into the Thorn Royd dr. He was trying to walk at the same speed as that of Malik, and he saw the Ryecroft primary academy. On the go, the trees with yellow and red leaves were falling as the breeze approached and touched their skin. As the sky turned darker, Malik decided to call a taxi and finish the ride in that. A yellow taxi stopped near them, obviously, the color is yellow for taxis there. Malik asked the driver to drop them near the Mosque. The windowsill of the car was closed and it was raining as they passed two other turns.

'You okay?' - Malik asked after the tightrope of silence.

'Yeah...' Zayn nodded. The atmosphere quoted dusk,

'How long?' - his dad enquired to the driver in the front seat.

'Thirteen more minutes, maximum'

The roads were somehow empty. No sight of people, not many vehicles. The yellow dim light from the oppositely traveling vehicle reached his eyes. As the rain became heavier, the wiper blades cleared off the fog by pacing sidewise. Zayn kept looking out, the heaviness of the rain was making the journey harder. In about twenty-five minutes' time, they reached and the car pulled over to the opposite side of the Mosque.

It wasn't like a proper mosque, there was no minaret, no sahn, no arch-doors to be seen from outside. It was also built with brown bricks just like his house, with two-three paned windows. A large door with green shutters made the entryway. The other side of the building had no doors and windows. There was a vast sheet of grass on the frontside, many people were already there - Malik and Zayn got out of the car and opened the umbrella. The wind was flowing in their opposite direction and water particles found a place on their clothes. Malik held Zayn closer to him so as to protect him from the rain. They both crossed the door and lined in to take the Wudu ( Ablution ) - Zayn washed his hands, face, and feet in a specific order and followed his dad into the Mosque - he was worried, this place isn't familiar to him. People were standing in a pattern, but he stood right next to his Dad.

He kept his vision to the ground, his throat was dry, the whole room was silent, and he felt his heartbeat echoing within the walls, and felt as if it was audible to the rest. The prayer began, he focused on the recitation, raised his hands to the level of his ears, utters the prayer, and folded his hands. The atmosphere was serene, people goes down to their knees and Zayn was following the whole process. Finally, he was sitting on his legs for the salutation. The only thing he prayed was 'I'm not a sinner, I'm just different, please don't punish me for that' he repeated that sentence till his dad got up to his legs again, and Zayn got up too, completing the prayer. They both seemed quiet, even though Malik talked to a few people and introduced Zayn before them. Both of them spend a little too much time over there, and it was 2:15 already. Rain was still falling as if it would never end, but they waited again hoping it would. Zayn was continuously checking the clock hanging proudly on the left sidewall.

'It's too rainy, we can wait a bit more' - Malik said analyzing the weather.

'Ok dad' - he said.

'You had plans for the evening?' Malik asked looking at him, he didn't say anything, he looked pensive.

'Zayn...' Malik asked again.

'Yeah dad' - He just nodded and looked away.

'On the way back I'll drop you near McDonald's' - he said

'It's okay dad, I' manage' Zayn said.

'It's up till 11, so if you want you can go by evening' His Dad continued.

'It's up till 4 only' - he said.

'That's during Monday to Wednesday kid' - Malik said smiling

'Is it? I didn't know that' - now Zayn's face was brightened, he felt the smile radiating again. 'The advertisement said it's up till 4 only, then how!!' - He wanted to clarify. ' You might not have read it correctly' Malik said stroking Zayn's hair. He was getting the sun rays back on the line even in the pouring rain - he was happier than ever. The things he planned, it's going to happen. He laughed inside and wrapped his arms around his Dad, hugging him. Malik smiled, they waited for another hour, it was pouring down.

'How is your class?'

'It's good, I'm totally loving the English lectures'

'Study well, ok'

'Sure Dad' he said

Zayn didn't care about the ticking clock, he had a straight eight hours ahead of him to fulfill today's plan, he wasn't worried at all. Even he was amused by his mood change - happy, sad, frustrated - it was in a synchronous pattern, going in and out like waves. He felt proud that he managed to keep everything listed, on the track. Much stronger than the last time. The rain was easing, Malik opened the umbrella and wrapped his arms around Zayn just like the last time. They walked towards the west side, exchanging conversations and hearing the old famous Urdu stories from his dad. Both made the journey funnier and live - at times Zayn stepped out from the umbrella and enjoyed the pearl of raindrops and they laughed hard. Malik was concerned that Zayn would catch a cold, so he grabbed his back. 

The songs they hummed had the fragrance of an old Fatherly-son-affection, the way they used to play, fight, how he used to pick Zayn up and tickled him, how they both used to attend the movies together, how he used to sing lullabies to Zayn, everything felt as if it passed by yesterday. Within Malik's arms Zayn was still a baby. It's been a long time since they had such a moment, son-dad-moment. They were walking in slow mo, hand in hand. Another page to cherish like the golden sands of a summer land.

Both were giggling, even rain couldn't stop the affection they retained. It felt like yesterday, only yesterday. No wonder why Zayn is fluent in Urdu, no wonder why he loves music and arts- he got those from his Dad. The walk was composed of long conversations and loving memories. He was glad that he didn't say no when his dad asked him to come to the Mosque. Everything was necessary, the moment of reconstructing a fallen wall -  the difference was both father and son were on the same side of the wall. They continued talking about the good old days, the backyard games, where he would run back to his Dad for rescue, where he would never get down from his dad's hands, when it comes to picking sides he always picked Zayn's. His Dad was his superhero in all those untold tales.