• n o o r •
"It's hard." A little girl named Iqra came up to me. She was wearing a pink frock, her hair tied in neat pigtails.
"Here, let me help." I said and picked her up into my lap. Holding her hands gently, I helped her fill the sketch with color pencils.
"I am done." Ali walked over to me to show me his drawing.
I tried to make something out of the colorful mess that he had created on the page. "It's amazing, Ali. I am proud of you." I passed him a smile and draw a star on his work.
"Of me too?" Iqra asked with a pout.
"Yes, you too." I said and patted her head.
I taught Arts to Kindergarten because that seemed like the most appropriate use of my degree for now. Dad had asked me to start internship in a graphic designing company of his friend but I was not in the best position to do that. Besides, I loved working with kids. Their innocence had the power to make anyone forget their pain, even if it's a temporary relief.
We were about to finish the drawing when the bell rang. Soon, the next teacher took over and I waved goodbye to the class. From there, I went straight to the teacher's lounge to gather my belonging and made my way down stairs.
The school was at walking distance from my house. It took me less than ten minutes to reach the house and I called Maheen who came out to open the door for me. She had her exams next month so she was on her prep leaves right now.
"Is there someone inside?" I asked when I heard sound of talking from the lounge.
"Ssshhh." Maheen said and pulled me to my room. "Mom asked me to tell you to get dressed. There is a woman out there to see you for her son."
My stomach clenched on hearing this. Mom had been trying to find a suitable rishta for me for two months now. She was worried for me and it was fair. Society isn't kind to a girl whose fiance dies the same day of the marriage. She is considered cursed or at least unlucky; and that's the last thing a mother needs in a girl when she is trying to find a suitable bride for her son.
We have had few women over in the last two months but they all fled away the minute they got to know about Usama. And then the gossiping women of my family and neighborhood did their best to spread the rumours that I was getting rejected by each one of them.
Despite each fibre in me screaming in protest, I dressed up in an orange Shalwar Kameez and walked out of the room. I didn't want to disobey Mama because she had been a constant support throughout my grieving phase, when I didn't even want to leave my room. The least I could do was meet these women because it was highly unlikely that I was getting selected anytime soon.
I stepped into the lounge where Mama and Dado were sitting at one couch and a woman in her fifties was sitting in front of them. The woman stared at me from head to toe when I entered inside. Aunty Afshan knew me inside out. I never had to put myself on display in front of her but things weren't going to be same in the future and I should better prepare myself for it.
"Your daughter is very pretty MaShaAllah." The woman said to Mama and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably.
"Yeah, our Noor is beautiful, both internally and externally." Mama said and patted my back.
"What do you do?" She asked me.
"I teach Arts to Kindergarten." I said.
"She is talented too." She said.
"You must taste her Biryani. Our Noor is an amazing cook." Mom said and I smiled awkwardly. The thing is, I can cook but amazing isn't the right word to describe my cooking.
"To be honest Fatima, I really like your daughter. It's so hard these days to find a perfect girl who is beautiful, well educated and respects her culture as well." She said.
I turned to look at Mama, who was hiding her eyes from me. Something was suspicious, there was no mention of my engagement uptil now and Aunty looked too pleased with me.
"I'm surprised a gem like her is still single." The woman said and it all fell right into place. Mama hasn't told her about Usama.
"I---"
"Noor, go bring tea." Mama said, stopping me from talking.
"I will, but first, I think some things needed to be cleared." I said.
"Noor!" Mama glared at me.
"I'm sorry Aunty but I think you should know. I was engaged before and my Nikaah was planned eight months ago. My fiance died the morning of our Nikaah." I said furiously, ignoring Mama desperately trying to stop me.
The woman's face paled in a speed that I didn't even know was possible. She shifted in her seat and looked at Mama in an accusing manner.
"Would you still like me to be your daughter in law?" I asked, staring right into her eyes.
The woman stood up with an annoyed expression plastered on her face. "I think I should go now." She said and stormed out of the lounge.
Once the woman had walked out, Mom turned to me with an angry face. "You should have let us talk, Noor." She glared.
"And you should have told her about Usama." I replied.
"Usama is gone, Noor. Not everybody needs to know about him." She said and I gasped at her words. How can she talk about him like that?
"And I don't want to marry into a family who would not accept me with my past, Mama. I will love him till the day I die. It's a fact and nobody can change it." I admitted shamelessly and stood up to leave.
"You won't find a husband if you keep talking about Usama. You have to understand Noor." Mom called me from behind.
"Then I'll happily stay unmarried for the rest of my life." I growled, tears blinding my vision. Do they think it's easy for me to move on without him? God, it hasn't been eight months and they want me to forget about the man I have loved my entire life.
"Don't say such things Noor. No matter how liberal we get, society isn't kind to an unmarried woman." She said.
"I don't care about society, Mama. I'm telling you for the final time. I will never marry if I don't find a man willing to accept Usama's place in my heart and life." I said and turned around. I was about to step outside the lounge when I came face to face with Faaris, who was making his way through the hallway. By the look of pity on his face, it was apparent that he had heard everything, or at least enough.
I ignored him yesterday because he reminded me of Usama. In fact, I ignored the entire Humayun family and their pitiful glances. I was tired of being on the receiving end of everyone's sympathies. All I wanted was to be left alone and live in peace. Rubbing my eyes, I walked past him and went out of the wooden door into the small lawn outside.
I made my way to the wooden bench in between the small flower pots and hid my face in between my palms. The tears that I was desperately trying to control spilled out now that I was alone.
Usama wasn't supposed to leave me alone like that, to fight the battles alone, to defend my love for him in front of people. What happened to all the promises he made? He said he would never make me cry but that's all I have done for the past eight months, because of him.
'Come back to me, Usama.' I whispered.
They say time is a great healer but it hasn't healed me. Each day, the hole in my heart gets bigger than before. Each day, I feel a little less alive. Each day, I die a small death.
'Ya Allah, help me. Let it be a nightmare so when I wake up, he is here and we are happy.' I prayed silently.
I felt the bench shift under someone's weight. Lifting my head, I found Faaris sitting on my side, his eyes focused on my face. I rubbed my cheeks to wipe the tears and stared back at him with a blank face.
"If you are here to tell me that I'm acting like a spoilt brat then go on, say it. I am not going to wait all day." I snapped.
"Believe it or not, I'm not going to say that." He replied in a stern voice but then his eyes softened. "But Aunty is right Noor. You have to move on one day."
"That's easier for you to say." I replied and looked away from his face.
"No. It's not. But I know that the world around me will not stop just because I want it to. And I know my brother would never want us to just sit around and mourn his death. He would want us to move on in our lives." He said. Even though he was right, I wasn't in my senses right now so every word made me angrier.
"No, and I don't care. If he didn't want me to mourn, he shouldn't have left. He should have been careful while driving." I shouted and once again, tears streamed down my cheeks.
"Noor, you don't know what you're saying." He said, helplessness filling his expression.
"Just leave, Faaris. Don't act like you understand my pain. And tell your Aunty that I'm not going to marry someone who would not accept me with my past." I said.
"I would never want you to do that." He replied, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made me cry harder. "But as someone who loved Usama just as much as you do, I just want---"
"I don't care what you want." I replied and stood up to leave. "Why is it that hard for everyone to understand that I just want to be left alone? Let me deal with my grief in my own way."
Saying this, I walked away from his judgemental eyes and went straight to my room, where I locked myself inside and cried until I didn't have stamina to keep my eyes open anymore.
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Do you think Noor should agree to get married?
Sorry for the short and late updates. Exams are keeping me busy.
Vocabulary:
• Rishta: a match
• Ma Sha Allah: this is a phrase used to express thankfulness or praise.