𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐧 | 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟎𝟏

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟑

FARAH

“Subah ba’khair, Abbu” I greet Abbu as I see him walk in the kitchen and take his seat for breakfast.

“Subah ba’khair, beti.” He greets back with a smile.

I place our breakfast- eggs, toast and chai- on the table and take my seat across from him.

After saying “Bismillah” we start eating.
The sun is up and casting its light on the table through the little window on the top of our wall.

After praying Fajr, we took a nap before I woke up first to prepare breakfast and then leave for work.

Abbu was in the military most of his teenage life then he was assigned head of the military going forward. After he retired, my brother walked on his footsteps and got into the military and was one of the most trusted soldiers of the Sultan. Just like Abbu.

After retiring Abbu took a different task to keep himself busy. Wood work. Zohaib bhai told Abbu not to work because he was earning more than enough with his position in the military but Abbu denied.

“I want to keep my mind fresh by being busy with a task,” is what he told us.
Abbu has always been a hardworking man. Even when he was in the military, he always helped out with the house chores, took care of us, helped us with school work and helped Ammi cook.
I always imagined Zohaib to be like Abbu when he’d make a family.

But being martyred was written in his fate.

“I’m leaving for work.” I say and quickly pick up my dishes from the table.

“it’s too early, beta.”

I pause before saying, “yes but I want to visit Aamir Chacha at the library to get some books.”

“Oh, okay. Give him my Salam.”

“I will.”

After I put away my dishes and wash my hands. I rush in my room to make sure my hijab and abaya are right.

After I make sure my hijab hides my hair and my abaya isn’t tight, I grab my bag, place in my necessities, put the strap over my shoulder and walk out to say my goodbye to Abbu.

I kiss his cheeks and say, “Take care. Allah hafiz, Abbu.”

He smiles and kisses my forehead, “be safe. Allah hafiz, beta.”

With a smile on my face, I leave the house.

The sun casts a light shade over our house. The sound of birds chirping, carts being pulled by the horses greets me as I step out of the house.

Our house is the last one in the row of houses located in our neighborhood. Abbu built this house for us- or more specifically for our mother when he was in the process of being head over heels for her and decided to make a home with her.

We’ve been living in this house since we were born. Ammi never once said if it was too small or too congested. She was awed by the fact that the love of her life built this house for her, to make a home with her.

I always wondered if I’d find a man who’d make something so meaningful or give me something so meaningful to show his love towards me.

It would take me months or even years to list the gestures Abbu has done to show his love towards Ammi. Even when they had a disagreement.

As I make my way to the town’s bazaar, I smile and say Salam to anyone who looks at me. Some smile back and some ignore me.

It’s early morning, the shops are only getting opened so there won’t be much rush of people. We get real rush during the afternoon when people leave their house to buy groceries, event dresses or any other necessities