In Your Love... {Eternal Ishq #1}

Ch-1 Holidays Yayyy!

                  In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

‘Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon our beloved Prophet Muhammad (s.a.s), his blessed descendents and noble companions.’

                                                                   - Aameen.

 

                                          In Your Love…

 

Dedicated to KittyCrackers for her love of family stories ;)

 

Note: Glossary is at the chapter's end.

Chapter one  

Holidays Yayyy!

 

When the speeding bicycle screeched to a halt, it was only for a moment to pause and open the huge gates. Then the young boy sat on it again leaving the gates wide open and speedily halting before a large, fine house.

He descended quickly and grabbing a school bag finally paused panting before the door while his hand impatiently rung the doorbell.

 Inside the big house, further into the kitchen, his mother Kadhija, a trim woman of fifty was like a small whirlwind cooking and conjuring many things at the same time. An onlooker would have been dazed by her energy or think that it is an illusion seeing her appear and disappear at so many places without a single mishap occurring. But the woman who paused near the kitchen’s doorway was not a bit surprised for she too was molded thus. Efficiency with quality was a motto of every woman in the kitchen and household of Syed Mohammed Abdullah.

“Ammi do you want me to wash these curtains today?” Saira asked, showing some pink articles in her hand. She was her eldest daughter, a young woman of twenty-three with a fair face and dancing black eyes.

Without pausing Kadhija looked at her and replied, “Yes together with the blue ones dear.”

Softly in the background came the melodious recitation of Surah Kahaf by Imam Sudais, the day being the auspicious Friday. Though everybody recited it individually, still it was sort of a custom in that house to play the Surah in the pc during Friday morning when each was occupied at their tasks before the Jumu‘ah Prayer.    

Opposite to the kitchen was a big room with three long windows thrown open wide. Yet they were all prettily curtained in green as to keep a stranger’s gaze from falling inside. And the sunlight streaming through them made the room look brighter and wider than its real size. This room was known by all as the Abba Ammi’s room.

Heena, Kadhija’s eldest daughter in law was setting it right while at the same time murmuring softly to the little baby who lay happily following her mother with its bright eyes and listening attentively to the sweet, soft nothings.

 It was upon that peaceful atmosphere that the loud bell rang almost incessant.

“It must be Umar. No Saira you watch this curry and I will attend the door. How many times should I tell the boy not to press the bell so?” Yet Kadhija’s tone held the fondness and pride that mothers often indulged upon sons. And Umar also happened to be her last and youngest child.