T h r e e
You were born with wings. Why prefer to crawl through life?
-Rumi-
☆
Mashal
Although we already only talked to each other when there was absolutely no other option left, after that little 'incident' even that has stopped.
I tried talking Minahil through that what she did was not sensible and I even apologized but in vain. She was just not ready to accept the fact that what she asked me to do was wrong.
Tired of it all, I decided to finally drop the topic and leave it as it was. She wasn't going to accept my apology and there was no way she was going to admit that she was wrong.
Knowing that I wasn't going to get any more car rides from my sister if I wake up late, I put two alarms beside my bed.
So that if one of them fails to wake me up, I'll have the other one to my rescue.
Genius much?
Thank you.
Fortunately my 'genius' plan seemed to work out and I woke up right on time.
Got dressed, had breakfast, had my huge mug of coffee, got ignore worthy glares from Minahil, all in good time to catch the bus.
As always, Assalam o alaikum walls. See you later.
"Bismillahi Tawakal tu al-Allah wa la hawla wa la quwwata illa billah"
With the dua on my lips I stepped out of my house. Just then, the door of the house in front of me opened, and out stepped he.
To say that my jaw dropped to the floor would be an understatement. The new neighbour that had just moved happened to be that guy from my physics class aka my sister's crush; Zeyara.
Wow.
Just wow.
Out of all the people of all the countries in the entire solar system, he had to be my neighbour?
Seems like my dua for having a muslim neighbour got accepted. In such an odd manner.
And call it luck or bad luck that just at the moment I stepped out of my house, he also stepped out of his.
I'm not sure if he recognised me or not because of my niqab but we just stood there frozen in front of our house doors with a blank expression, eyeing each other suspiciously.
Dark beard, the first thing that anyone would notice when they see him. Oh and he has those Egyptian curly hair and...
Astagfirullah! Lower your gaze girl.
Even though I wasn't staring at him in a bad way but staring at him for too long might cause me to think bad. There was no way I was going to lose myself like Minahil and all the other girls around me.
I know my worth and it's not so little that I would give it up for a boy.
Careful not to glance at him again I walked off towards the bus stop. Behind me I could hear his footsteps meaning that he too, had started walking.
The walk to the bus stop usually takes 5 minutes but today it seemed to take longer with him following me. God. Why doesn't he just change his path?
His footsteps seemed to follow me like a shadow.
And when I got on the bus, thinking that I had finally escaped him.
Again.
He too, stepped on the bus.
Whyyyyyyy??? Is he following me?
No idiot. He isn't following you. He just goes to the same college as you so obviously he'll have to take the same bus.
Giving myself an imaginative slap, I tried to stop thinking about him and concentrate on finding a place to sit in the bus.
Whoa. Another shot of luck. Bad luck I mean.
The entire bus was occupied except for two seats which were together.
Usually I sit alone on the bus without anyone sitting beside me but if the bus is too full, then I prefer to sit with a female.
Never have I ever sat with a male. Sitting too close to a male was just not comfortable for me or my religion.
And now there were just two seats and the two of us.
I let out a silent groan. There was no way I was going to sit with him.
As if he had heard this entire coversation within my head, Zeyara shrugged, "You can sit. I like to stand."
Dumbfounded, I looked at him standing behind me.
"Thanks." I forced my mouth to say.
As I sat on the seat I couldn't help but smile to myself. This is the character of a believer, a true Muslim.
Last time on the bus, no one had stood up to give away their seat to that old man but this man, Zayara had given up the seat to me just for my comfort, even though he had every right to sit.
Just because he is a Muslim and knows how to respect.
Alhamdulillah for being a muslim.
The bus continued rolling at its speed for 40 minutes before we reached the college.
No don't worry, Zayara didn't have to stand for the entire 40 minutes. After a few stops, the people had got off the bus, giving him space to sit.
I was the first one to get off the bus when it reached my college and then I rushed towards my class without looking back. I didn't want to see him again. It would have been too embarrassing.
Thankfully enough I didn't have my physics class that day. Just Biology and Chemistry.
Biology was amazing! I love that subject and the teacher is sweet to me so yeah it was fun.
Then I had chemistry. It was going to be my first chemistry lesson of the year and when I walked into my class, I could see many hijabis in the room.
This made me smile. Alhamdulillah! Now I'll have someone who won't mind talking to me.
My eyes were scanning the room to look for a place to sit and then bad luck struck me for the fifth time that day.
There he was.
Mohammed Zeyara.
He was not only in my physics but also in my Chemistry class.
What is wrong with this guy?
Oh well, Mashal there's absolutely nothing wrong with him. Its wrong with you. Why does his presence even matter to you? Think of him as just another student.
Yeah but this just 'another' student is someone my sister adores so-
"Please take your seat."
Someone's high pitch voice took me by shock, interrupting my internal conflict.
I looked up to see that it was the Chemistry teacher and that I was just standing at the door staring at the class.
Akward. Plain akward and embarrassing. Thank God my face was covered otherwise they could've seen it sinking.
Avoiding the whole class staring at me and trying not to embarrass myself any further, I took a seat next to a hijabi in the fourth row.
The Chemistry teacher was also very good to me and treated me normally. I didn't quite like chemistry as a subject but was sure that this teacher would make it easy for me.
The lecture continued smoothly but I couldn't help but notice that the group of hijabis sitting next to me had an insane amount of perfume on them. Like such a large amount, that it made me feel dizzy.
Not only that, but also during the entire lecture instead of studying, all they did was talk about One Direction.
This made my heart sink. What has happened to the ummah today? What are we doing to ourselves? We've forgotten the real purpose of hijab by adorning it with jewellery and colouring our face with make up. We have left aside the sunnah and are following our own ways.
And One direction? Just a group of boys but girls are drooling over them. Its okay to like something but not so much that you dedicate your entire life to it.
Ridiculous.
I thought that these hijabis could become my friends but I don't think they can. They won't like me for being so plain. Or as my parents call it, "Outdated."
The lecture ended at 1 pm and then I rushed to the reception to get the prayer room keys so that I could pray zuhr in time.
I did my wudu (ablution) in the bathroom for which I had to take my niqab off.
There were a few girls coming in and out of the bathroom so they saw me without the niqab. I heard one of them whisper to her friend, "No she's not ugly. I thought she covered because she was ugly."
I smiled a little.
Good.
It took me about 10 minutes to do wudu because of the inconvenient way in which I had to wash my feet. I did get a lot of akward staring because of that but I have grown used to it.
I walked towards the prayer room and then bad luck again.
Mohammed Zeyara was standing outside the prayer room, leaning with his back on the door.
We stood frozen again, staring at each other just like we had done in the morning.
Then it started becoming akward so he cleared his throat and spoke, "I went to the reception for the prayer room keys and they said someone had already taken them. I was waiting here for that someone to come and open the door."
"Oh." I muttered, "I'm sorry. It took me a long time to do wudu."
"It's okay." He smiled "I already guessed that."
He stepped out of the way and I fiddled with the lock and keys to open the door.
After a few akward attempts of me trying to put the key in the wrong direction, he asked if he could help and I eagerly agreed.
I had been trying to open the door for more than a few minutes but he, on the other hand, opened it in his first attempt.
Today I would seriously make a world record of being in the most embarrassing situation.
Taking my shoes off, I walked in after him.
It was an interfaith prayer room but still, only the Muslims used it. The other religions were not so keen on praying I guess.
And even from the Muslims, only a few of them prayed in college. Like for example, only Zeyara and I came here to pray zuhr even though there are a lot of other muslims studying here.
This made my heart ache. Why have they forgotten that salah is the difference between a believer and a non-believer?
Since only the Muslims used it, they had turned it into a small masjid with cardboard separators for the men and women. Zeyara walked over to the male side and I prayed at the female side.
When I had finished praying, I walked out of the room and was about to lock it when I saw Zeyara's shoes outside. He was still praying!
I wish my salah was as long and perfect as his.
Instead of locking the door, I put the keys in the hole and left a sticky note on it, "Please lock the room and return the keys to the reception after praying.
And make dua for me too. Please?"
I don't know why I wrote the last part. He doesn't even know me. What kind of dua can someone make without knowing the person?
I'm ridiculous. But that's fine. I just need someone to pray for me. I believe in the power of dua. I believe in its acceptance and I guess that is what made me ask him to make dua for me.
I had no class after that so I left the college. I took my usual bus but thank Allah that Zeyara was not in the bus with me.
So now what would I call it? Luck nor bad luck?
No, none of that. Its just the qadr of Allah. They were all his tests that I took as bad luck. We humans always do that.
We forget that when Allah loves a slave, He tests him.
It was neither luck or bad luck, it was love. The love of My Lord.
☆☆
Assalam o alaikum everyone!
I hope you're all doing well in sha Allah.
And I hope you are liking the story so far.
Keep the Ummah in your dua. :)
-Muskaan.