The Ramadan Diaries

The Book.

"Thank you, sire. Am I to be expecting any guests?" Sameer asks, a hint of doubt on his face.

"No, Sameer. You may leave me alone now."

Jalal walks over to the living room, and slumps down on the couch. A green leather upholstery, untainted by the corruptive nature of time.

He takes out a ring from his pocket, and stares at the initials embossed beneath the small diamond. K.J. He smiles, and places the ring on the soft tender part of his lips.

Memories flooded in, enclosing him in a warmth equal to a lover's hug.

After a while, he dozed off to sleep.

-

More Crying.

"Zia, I'm sorry. But I'll do everything in my power to keep your father from hurting you. Come with me, to my home. I swear not a single soul will touch you there."

"No Talib, it's not right by Islam to leave my father. However cruel he may be."

"What sort of religion encourages pain like this? Zia stop this, please!"

Tears flow down his cheeks, he is crying so badly as he kisses her wounds, inflicted by her own father.

The crying gets unbearable, and neither manages to see clearly now.

"I love you, I love you, I'm ready to die for you, Zia. Anything"

"Talib! Your life belongs to Allah, pray to him, because I don't want our life without his acceptance."

"Anything." He manages to whisper, before choking on his own tears.

-

Jalal wakes up with a start, sure that someone was watching him. When he looked around, there was not a soul in sight.

The ring, He thought. He bent down and looked for it. Under the couch lay his ring.

On top of an old, tattered book. He picked them up, kept the ring in his pocket, and blew dust off the book.

A strange tingle travelled from his fingers to his brain, numbing him for a while. He had sudden revelations; both cruel, and loving. And the voices that had accompanied him since childhood grew stronger than ever.

A Ramadan Diary, he thought to himself, and smiled.