Assalamualaikum!
Welcome to another chapter in the life of Junaina Ali.
Of course you pcould reduce shaitan to the size of a fly while you're at it by saying 'Bismillah' ;)
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#5 The Eventful Day
When I got to her room, Ayesha Di was just done pulling her long brown hair into an elegant knot at the base of her head. The sky blue salwar kameez brought out her creamy complexion. She had accessorized with silver studs in her ears and a couple of bracelets on her arm.
I watched on in incredulity as Di pulled on a loose black abaya on top of her perfect outfit. She also wrapped her head in a dark blue hijab. What was the point of going through all the troubles of looking good, only to cover it up?
It was mind boggling. Seriously.
If I were wearing an abaya I would just put it on over my pajamas. Easy peasy.
Ayesha Di saw me leaning against her dressing room entrance reflected in the mirror. She smiled and then beckoned me to draw closer.
"You may think I'm an idiot for dressing up elaborately and then covering up, right?" She asked.
"Absolutely! Not just an idiot but a complete nut job!" I exclaimed throwing my hands up to put emphasis on my point.
And then I remembered I just called my Di a nut job, who is also a good six years older than me. Way to go. I blushed in mortification but she took it lightly.
"Some people think the purdah is used to cover up when you're not up for looking good. The truth is, it was prescribed to cover our beauty and to protect our modesty. It makes us special. I don't expect you to grasp what I'm feeling now, but some day you'll understand how amazing covering your awrah can make you feel."
I was dumbfounded. It was hard to ignore the sincerity in her tone, and yet I couldn't come to terms with what she was saying. How can hiding our beauty make us special?
"Also, just because I'm wearing abaya doesn't mean I can't dress up. Allah and I know that I look amazing and that's good enough for me. I don't need the rest of the world to reassure me of my beauty. Especially since it is a thing that can be lost and gained at the will of Allah."
I stopped trying to wrap my head around the concept. One point was there though, I don't need the rest of the world to validate my beauty. I can do that on my own perfectly, thank you very much.
We went downstairs and met Dadi in her room. She was reading a pretty heavy volume about God only knows what. On hearing us approach she looked up and removed her reading glasses.
"Ah! My daughters. You both look lovely. Don't forget to take Samar with you. I don't want the hooligans outside staring at my children like they are meat." She said seriously.
Again I was taken aback by the fact that she completely overlooked my lack of hijab, let alone abaya. To say I'm over thinking would be an understatement. I could almost see fumes coming out of my brain. Dadi's not-by-the-book behavior was driving me nuts.
"Of course Nani, Assalamualaikum!" Ayesha Di said.
"Wa alaikumasalaam!" Dadi responded.
I bid her my salaam and then we left. Samar was waiting for us outside in the car. He was sitting in the driver's seat.
"When did you get a license?!" I asked, after getting in the back seat. Di was riding shot gun.
"Two months back." He said smirking.
"And he will always be here to drive us around," Ayesha Di said.
Samar just rolled his eyes. Seeing them together made me miss Samir. Stupid elder brother, making me long for his presence already.
"It's a pity I can't drive to school," Samar said drawing my attention.
"You're not driving us to school, then we are going by bus?" I asked.
Dang! It would have been so cool to make an entry on the first day in my brother's car. Instant popularity opportunity. Especially since Samar is the star at Marwa.
Not that I'd need his support to be popular. I probably wouldn't even have to try.
"Yep. And get ready to be squished tight. This is not your Dubai, there won't be a single seat for every student."
I gulped. Right. Forgot about our people's stinginess.
"Wouldn't be a problem," I replied trying to sound nonchalant.
"Actually you're right, wouldn't be a problem for you. What with that contempt of yours people would stay miles away from you!" He said and broke into laughter.
As if any part of what he said was funny. Ayesha Di slapped his arm.
"Stop teasing her you idiot and focus on driving us safely," she said.
"Well you gotta stop hitting the driver if you want us to reach anywhere safely." He was smirking.
He definitely won that one. Di rolled her eyes at him.
The endless road cutting through the green beauty that is nature was stunning to watch. It made me miss what was obviously not here, the concrete jungle that was Dubai. While the randomness of the greenery was refreshing, it was also awe inspiring just seeing the precise beauty of skyscrapers.
Marwa Private School was located right between Central and South Salimabad. Once past Marwa the road leads on to the Central area, the commercial hub of this place. The upside of living in the South is that it gives you isolation from the outside world. The downside is that you've gotta drive a bit to get to town for all necessities.
Soon Samar pulled into the school parking lot. About ten buses were parked there, along with vehicles probably belonging to the admins. The parking lot had two gates in it. One that we just got in by, which separated Marwa from the highway. Those huge iron gates were now open. A similar pair of gates stood at the other end of the lot which opened into the school grounds. It is where the actual school boundary walls began. There was a small watchman's post over there.
As soon as he saw Samar and Ayesha Di, the watchman opened the wicket gate built into the larger gate.
We walked into a ground that housed a basketball court on one end and a badminton court at the other. There were also amphitheater like stone seats built around. Atthe far end of the ground stood a three tier stone building. The school's main block. It had two further blocks which were not visible in the frontal view. The whole building was shaped like an angular U, the two other blocks being behind. There was also a Masjid beyond the smaller ground enclosed by the school building. On the right side the ground extended to an artificial lake, the result of a dam. The area around the lake was wooded and green. It was lovely.
I had been here before, to attend Samar's and Ayesha Di's school functions in the past. So I had a general idea of the school's layout.
We walked into the school building and welcomed the cool air inside. It was scorching hot out in the open. Monsoon would be welcome indeed.
The first room we entered was the reception area and waiting lounge. It led to a pair of glass double doors at the end which forked in two directions and also led forward to the inner ground.
Samar went and spoke to the lady behind the reception desk.
"Assalamualaikum, we had called earlier in the morning about my cousin's admission."
I stepped forward when he mentioned me.
"Wa alaikumasalaam, yes. Please sit, I'll get the concerned authority in a moment." She said smiling.
We took our seats and waited.
Samar was busy with his phone. Ayesha Di was telling me about her school days and the fun she had here when a man approached us. On seeing Samar and Di he broke into a huge smile.
"Samar beta, Assalamualaikum! I was just waiting for you. This must be Javed's daughter huh?" He said, shaking Samar's hand in a firm grip.
"Wa alaikumasalaam! Yes Bashir uncle. This is Junaina. She'll be joining here this year."
The man looked at me and smiled. He talked of Dad as if they knew each other very well. I smiled back and said salaam.
"Ahh! That's great. Your father and I were classmates in this very school!" He said.
That explained it. I then realized that Marwa was an ancient school. I mean my dad must have been a student here some thirty-thirty five years ago. Talk about continuing the legacy. Probably my whole family was educated here.
We had forms to fill and I was assessed and my admission process was finally completed. We took our leave from Marwa and headed to town to get all the stuff I'd need. And that's when all hell broke loose.
We were at a shoe store. Samar and I both had to get school shoes. From the moment we got there this one guy was eyeing me like I was meat and him a rabid and hungry dog. I'd have forgiven him if he were a little pleasing to the eyes or if he were a bit more discreet. It was when he tried feeling up my leg while taking my size that I whacked him with my bag.
Hearing me cuss, Samar and Ayesha Di were immediately by my side. I had also drawn the attention of almost all the people at the store.
"What happened?" Di asked, worry seeping into her tone.
"This jerkass tried to feel me up, I was just showing him girls aren't as vulnerable as they seem," I seethed.
"What?!"
Both Samar and Di said at once. Only Di sounded mortified, while Samar sounded like a typical angry protective brother. He pulled the guy up by his collar and glared at him.
He was yelling expletives rapidly in Urdu. I couldn't even grasp what he was saying. Judging by the general expression of people around us it was nothing good. Oh yeah, we had a crowd around us then.
Samar landed two punches on the guy when he said something in return.
"What do you mean she was provoking you, you piece of junk? You touched her with your hand being fully in control of your actions! It is not like she lifted her skirt and asked you to touch her or your hand just slipped up there!" He yelled.
In that moment I was truly proud of Samar and glad that I had someone like him as a cousin. Guys have this notion that they end up disrespecting girls because of the way we dress. Be the dress an abaya and niqab or a mini skirt and shirt. When we're covered up they are curious about what's inside and when we are not, they are enticed by what's visible. As if they are not in control of their actions.
The store manager had come in by then. And that idiot supported his employee. Samar had had enough.
"Fine then, we are leaving. There are tons of better stores out there anyway. We don't need your bloody shoes."
He was dragging us out, but then went back inside to have a last word with the manager.
"Tell Saeed bhai when he comes that a daughter of Ashiana was insulted from your store. Don't come to us begging for forgiveness then."
We ended up going to the food court and getting ice creams. Samar was still visibly angry. Even I was annoyed. I could still feel that creep's hand on me. Disgust and an immediate need for a bath had me wishing we could reach Ashiana as soon as possible. Ayesha Di tried to diffuse the situation.
"Samar, who knew you were so filmy! What a dialogue brother!" She said poking his arm.
That got us all laughing.
"Seriously Di, 'Tell Saeed bhai a daughter of Ashiana was insulted here', what are we royalty?" I asked laughing.
Samar couldn't help but crack up at my weak imitation of him. Di poked more fun at him until he had loosened up.
"As for your question Juju, we are kind of royalty here. You have no idea of the wealth our Nanu has amassed over the years and his sons after him. And like he always used to say, we do have noble lineage. The info that you're part of the Ali family of Ashiana would have people kissing your feet. We are one of the founding families of this place after all."
Di nodded in agreement.
"There are many founding families, but our Nana ji is better known than most others. Not just because of his wealth and status, but because of his generosity. He has left his mark in every corner of Salimabad, even the slums."
The whole information overload was alot for me to take in.
"It is a lot to live up to!" I exclaimed.
Samar and Ayesha Di laughed.
"You think?!" Samar remarked, imitating me.
I threw the rest of my ice cream at him. He looked at his navy blue tee and then at me. He repeated the process once more.
"You do realize you've spoiled one of my favorite t-shirts?" He asked menacingly.
I giggled in response. For once I managed to rile him up instead of the other way round.
"Sorry for soiling your royal garments your highness!"
He lifted his ice cream ready to throw it at me when Di stopped him.
"You dare throw ice cream at a daughter of Ashiana?" She asked him.
Cue tons of laughter from our side. He scowled at me and lowered his arm.
"Only because it is haram to lay a finger on you Juju. Just you wait, I'll get back at you. After all, I am your senior at Marwa." He said smirking.
Uh oh.
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How was it?! Tell me your opinions!
Stay tuned for more updates,
Love,
Ann J
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Glossary
Abaya: A loose, usually black robe worn by Muslim women, especially in Arabic-speaking regions, covering the body from head to toe or the neck down and often worn with a headscarf and veil.
Purdah: A state of seclusion or secrecy.
Awrah: The parts of the body that should be covered in front of men/women who are unrelated for a person. For a woman it is the whole of her body except her face and hands. Some even recommend the face and hands as awrah and expect only the eyes to be revealed. For the men the awrah is beneath their navel to their knees. The awrah for a women changes circumstantially too. While in prayer she has to reveal her face and hands. Before her husband she is free from teh restrictions of awrah. Before mahram (close male relatives) the restriction less than in the case of non mahram men, but she is still expected to cover from shoulder to feet and not fully expose her hair.
For more detail on awrah do research it. :)
Niqab: Cloth used to cover face.