Inevitable Flaw

Chapter 37: Change

NAIL POLISH is non porous and does not allow water to completely touch the skin, which would cause INVALID WUDU. I'm still hesitant on the whole breathable nail polish, so I don't apply that either. The aftermath of henna is okay because it is permeable. The same goes for makeup (mascara/ foundation) that prevents the water from contacting the skin. I'm not into makeup so I don't usually have a problem with this. I see a lot of sisters praying with nail polish or performing wudu with a full face of makeup (eyeliner, mascara, heavy foundation), who don't actually know this. Spread the word In Sha Allah in the most nicest way possible, because if your wudu is invalid, so is your prayer. :/ DO NOT JUDGE PEOPLE. But, Ignorance is no excuse. 

Replace music with Nasheeds. The one linked above is one of my favs.

I'm back with another chapter WHAAT? haha, enjoy. Continue voting, commenting  and sharing with friends. We are at 80 k, that is the an exceptionally impressive number!!! I love you all and your support. JazakhAllah Khair (thank you) so so much. :) 

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"The last box," Aasif proclaims, his voice organically relieved.

I exhale at the crowded apartment of brown cardboard, the stress of organizing provoking me towards darkness.

"You sure you don't want to take a year off?" mama presses, illusioning it as a joke. Again.

I grind my teeth as my bandaged shoulder resurrects a wince, its power circulating all across my back and neck.

"You okay?" She's startled again, her eyes wide as she elevates to study me in thorough.

"Yeah, just a cramp," I dismiss within my forcefully strengthened voice, which hoarsens as I attempt to tolerate the oncoming waves of anguish.

It all still hurts, so much.

"I insist I stay another week," she warns gravely, her eyes fabricated with yarns of stern.

"You've already taken half a month off," I aggravate; her elaborate concern is harming her in more ways than I like.

"I don't care for the job, I need to know you'll be okay."

"I'll be fine, besides, there are so many selfless souls willing to assist my handicapped state," I reassure, tentatively divorcing her knitted eyebrows.

But I don't want her to leave, the anticipated loneliness an unsolicited refugee.

"You're just so fragile right now," her eyes mist before she's in complete hysteria.

For the third time this morning.

"Oh mama," I bleed through the petrified pain as I embrace her.

She's shivering; it kills me.

"She'll be fine mum," Aasif groans while throwing himself in the recliner, his eyes emphasizing a tint of upset.

I stare at the both of them and overwhelming gather the need to bawl my eyes out. Fortunately, the grinding of my teeth eradicates that force.

The coming hurt of their lack of company plaques me however.

"The house will be a lot quieter without her," Aasif lightens. Mama abrupts a short-lived laugh while streaming in tears.

I smile.

"Skype, everyday," she quivers while drying the water from her ducts.

"Everyday," I promise, while mesmerized by her face.