LEFTOVER KHICHRI

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"Al haaku mut takathur. Hatta zurtumul-maqaabir. Kalla sawfa ta'lamoon. Thumma kalla sawfa ta'lamoon. Kalla law ta'lamoona 'ilmal yaqeen. Latara-wun nal jaheem. Thumma latara wunnaha 'ainal yaqeen. Thumma latus–Thumma latus...latus..."

"Thumma latus alunna yauma-izin 'anin na'eem," Talha completed for her.

"I was getting to it," Shasmeen announced, frowning at him.

"Try again," her younger brother encouraged, pushing away the half-drunk juice glasses in between them to stare at her with his brows knitted in concentration. "Go on then."

Shasmeen pursed her lips, readying herself. "Al haaku mut takathur. Hatta zurtumul-maqaabir. Kalla sawfa ta'lamoon. Thumma kalla sawfa ta'lamoon. Kalla law ta'lamoona–ta'alamoona 'ilmal yaqeen." Her eyes flickered to the sliding door of the dining room, where their mother walked in with an empty bird feeder. "Kalla law ta'lamoona 'ilmal yaqeen. Latara-wun nal jaheem. Thumma latara wunnaha 'ainal yaqeen. Thumma latus alunna...yauma-izin 'anin na'eem!"

"Ma'sha'Allah, Aapi!" Talha exclaimed in excitement. "Good girl! Good girl! Bravo!"

"I am, I am. Alhumdulillah!" She jumped out of her seat in joy. "Mama, I memorized one more surah!"

"Congratulations, meri pari," their mother said, peeking out of the pantry to send a flying kiss.

"See aapi, I knew you could do it."

"All praise and thanks to Allah," Shasmeen whispered, elated with joy.

She had taken it upon herself to memorize the eight verses in their entirety that morning before even entertaining the idea to go over to Abeer's. She was already going at a snail's pace, and the restlessness of the past few days had made focusing on anything difficult.

"I'm getting back on track," she thought out loud, rummaging through her wardrobe. Being a sensitive person was a trial in itself, because the slightest inconvenience could potentially wreck her for weeks. She was doing surprisingly well, she thought, considering how the last inconvenience had left her screaming and crying in the car every morning for weeks.

"Life's good," she said several minutes later as she backed up the car from its parked space across Zakariya's backyard.

Over the short fence she could see Mubashir tending to the plants. Big straw hat and industrial strength rubber boots on, with half a dozen gardening tools next to him, he looked more a landscaper than their actual landscaper, Javiar.

"You'll think a physical therapist would know not to strain their knees like that," she whispered to herself, briefly watching him lean into the garden he had started the same day he had moved in.

"He can't stand video games or TV," Aaliyah bhabi would always say, buying yet another gardening tool for him, "But gardening? Leave him outside in the morning, and he won't remember to come in until the sun sets."

He was good at it, Shasmeen couldn't deny. Zakariya bhai's backyard had never looked better with its rows of flower bushes, stony walkway, and tiny vegetable and herb garden. He had even planted the same colors together; the bright yellow carnations bloomed next to the tall trumpets, which leaned into the roses. Behind it were dark red dahlias, snap dragons and anemo–

Wait....aren't those the same colors as...

Anger flowed through her. Mubashir had used the same colors as his alma mater.

That sneak! He had come into her brother's house and was trying to paint it in his own colors. Was he asserting his dominance on her? Telling her she wasn't welcome there?