T h i r t e e n
When Allah pushes you to the edge,
trust Him fully because only two things can happen.
Either He will catch you
or
He will make you learn how to fly.
☆
Mashal
I blinked a thousand times before my eyes finally adjusted to the bright light and I looked around to figure out where I was.
I tried to stand up from where I was sitting but I couldn't. I looked down at the seat belt secured around me which didn't let me move.
There was another row of seats on the opposite side and it looked like some sort of a bus or train's interior.
I gasped in horror. When did I get on a train?
Out of curiosity, I opened the black shutter of the small window to my left.
Ya Allah!
There were no roads or buildings visible from the window. Instead, there were white clouds against the blue sky.
This was not a train or a bus but a small aeroplane!
And even though I had never been on an aeroplane, I knew that planes are huge but this one was small......like a private plane.
A shiver ran down my spine when the realisation of what had happened crept over me.
I was about to go to Syria with Ibrahim and then suddenly Zainab.........I mean Zeyara showed up and.....after that....I couldn't remember anything that happened after that.
Oh! Maybe after that me and Ibrahim got on the plane for Syria and that's where I am right now.
But if that happened, then where's Ibrahim and all the other passengers?
I looked around desperately to find Ibrahim but there was no sign of him.
A panic attack was beginning to make its way to me when the door at the far end of the cabin opened and I saw Zeyara stepping out of it.
"Zeyara!" I gaped at him and then snapped my jaws shut as I finally remembered what was happening. Zeyara had injected me with a sedative of some sort and then he must've kidnapped me!
"Mashal calm down. You're okay." He said lowly, walking up to where I was sitting.
"Calm down?!" I screamed at him, "You kidnapped me! I don't even know where I am and you expect me to calm down?"
This was truly unbelievable. How could Zeyara do this?
He heaved a cold sigh and looked away from me. "I had no time to explain. Ibrahim was there and he could've-"
"What?!" I bellowed with all the anger that I could muster. "Just tell me what you had to explain before I lose my control."
Lose my control?
Seriously Mashal? What would you do? Fight him off and then jump off this plane?
What a good idea.
"I don't know where to start and whether you would believe it or not." He replied, settling himself down on the seat opposite to me. "It's just too absurd."
He looked genuinely worried and I couldn't help but notice his attire. He was wearing black commando pants with lots of pockets on it and a heavy black leather jacket over a white t shirt. Not to mention those black high boots.
Honestly speaking, all he needed was a pair of black shades and he would look like a spy from those secret agent movies.
"Go on." I said glancing at him, "but please don't tell me you are a secret agent."
"Wha....No!" He chuckled looking down at what he was wearing.
"Thank God." I heaved a sigh of relief.
"You actually thought I was some kind of a spy?" He raised his brow in amusement and burst out laughing.
I was about to reply but I was cut short by the voice coming from the small screens in front of us. "Please fasten your seat belts. We are about to land at the Sialkot International Airport."
Sialkot? I had never heard of that city before and why on earth would Zeyara bring me here?
My eye brows knitted in confusion and I stared at him suspiciously.
He looked at me sheepishly and secured his seat belt before saying, "Uh we're in Pakistan."
"What?!"
This was just getting crazier with each passing moment. Nothing was making sense to me.
"Are you being serious right now?" I asked with my mouth agape. "Why did you bring me here Zeyara? What is happening?"
"Mashal just sit with your neck against the headrest till we land. I promise I'll tell you after landing." He argued.
I couldn't comprehend why he would ask me to sit with my neck against the head rest.
"Stop making excuses! Just tell me." I complained but suddenly I got the answer to why he asked me to sit back. The plane started going downwards and it felt like I was on a drop tower at a theme park. The plane tilted forward and I felt a wave of panic in my stomach. Even my ears popped out.
This was my first time on a plane and it ruined all my expectations that I had of plane rides.
It was just so scary.
"Are you sure this plane is not crashing?!" I screamed in panic and distress with my jaw clenched tight. I was holding onto my seat so tightly as if my life depended on it.
My distress caused Zeyara to titter, "You've never been on a plane before. Have you?" He asked in a loud voice for me to hear him despite my ears being blocked.
I shook my head with my eyes closed shut. I even began reciting the shahadah in case the plane crashed and I died. There was a jolt when the wheels of the air plane met the ground and it began vibrating.
I could hear Zeyara laugh at my reaction. "You're overreacting."
I didn't care to reply to him. I didn't even want to open my eyes but then suddenly it stopped and everything seemed quiet.
"Alhamdulillah!" I exclaimed as I opened my eyes. "I thought this would be my first and last time in the air."
Zeyara opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it and rolled his eyes at me. "You are so overdramatic."
"I'm not!" I snapped at him "I have been kidnapped and brought to Pakistan in an unknown plane. It is my right to stress out."
He raised his hands up in defence, "Okay okay! Calm down."
No not this time. He has to tell me everything.
"I'm not calming down before you tell me why you brought me here and ruined my trip to Syria with my brother!" I bellowed, taking off my seat belt.
Before Zeyara got the chance to say something, a man dressed in a green and red uniform came out of the same door that Zeyara had come out of.
I guessed him to be the flight attendant because he smiled at us and opened the door for us to leave the plane.
"Come on Mashal. We have to get off now." Zeyara whispered to me as he stood up.
I wanted to scream that I'm not moving before he tells me everything but I didn't want to start a scene in front of that flight attendant so I obeyed and followed him out of the air plane.
"Zeyara I don't have my passport or the Pakistani visa!" I cried when I saw the immigration officer asking people from the other flights ahead of us for their passports.
He glanced at me and then smirked ruefully as he took out two passports from the hidden pocket of his jacket. "I got you covered."
I looked at the two green passports in his hand. The British passports are burgundy and I gasped in horror. "Ya Allah! These are fake passports."
"Shhhh! Do you want us to get caught?"
"B-but..."
"Next!" The officer shouted for us, cutting my sentence before it even started.
Zeyara smiled cheerfully at him and handed him his passport.....the fake one.
"Mr. Hamid?" He asked Zeyara.
"Yep." Zeyara nodded and I stared at his face, appalled by how easy it was for him to pretend that his name was Hamid when it was actually Zeyara.
The officer stamped Zeyara's passport and then called out for me.
"Uh- she's with me." Zeyara interrupted and handed him my passport.
He stared down at the passport, carefully inspecting it and then looked back at me. Meanwhile, I felt fear jolting in me.
What if he found out that this passport was not real?!
"I'm sorry Ma'am but you have to take off your veil so I can verify the picture."
Oh no.
Zeyara couldn't have possibly got my real picture on this fake passport because he doesn't have my picture. It must be a fake picture and if I took off my niqab-
"Brother please can you just let her go? You are a muslim. You must have a wife or a mother. You know how it is..." Zeyara pleaded, interrupting my thoughts.
For a moment the officer stayed silent as if debating what to do. Then he finally gave in with a sigh and stamped my passport as he smiled at Zeyara "Assalamoalaikum. Have a good day."
"Walaikumsalam." Zeyara smiled back and walked off. I quickly followed behind him and didn't speak a single word until we were out of the airport.
That was too much of a shock for me. I didn't know whether to be happy that I had escaped or be sad that I had used an illegal way.
However, as soon as we stepped out of the airport, I immediately realised that we were in Pakistan because it was December but it didn't feel too cold. Also, people were wearing modest clothes and speaking Urdu. I secretly felt a little happiness because I would finally get the chance to use Urdu that I had learnt as a child.
We were walking silently but I immediately came to a halt and stood in front of Zeyara with my arms crossed. "Okay so now give me a reason why I should trust you and not go to the police and tell them that you kidnapped me from Britain and brought me here?"
"Because they won't believe you." He shrugged plainly and continued walking.
Ugh. This was so frustrating but true. No one would actually believe that, even though it was the truth.
"Wait! Stop!"
"I can't." He said in a hushed tone "we have to be quick or else we will miss the zuhr salah."
Salah! Oh my God! How could I forget??
Nothing is more important than prayer.
"But where will we pray?" I asked hopelessly with my shaky voice.
We were in a completely different country. I had never been to Pakistan before.
"We're in Pakistan. Its a muslim country. There are masjids here at every corner." Zeyara stated matter of factly and pointed at a building right across the road.
My eyes followed the direction he had pointed at and spotted two minarets and a dome on a building which made it clear that it was a mosque. The thumping of my heart relaxed a bit knowing that I won't miss my salah.
"This is beautiful!" I exclaimed when we came nearer to the mosque and the white marble on it, shone in the daylight. "We never have minarets and domes in the mosques in UK."
"Yes Mashallah!" Zeyara smiled widely.
We walked in quietly and I went upstairs to the women section while Zeyara remained downstairs.
After redoing my wudu and taking off my niqab (which felt like bliss because I had been wearing it for 7 hours now.) I prayed the zuhr salah and thanked Allah for not making me miss my salah. I would've missed it if I was still in the UK but the time difference between Pakistan and England, saved me.
After praying, as soon as we stepped out of the mosque, I asked him again. "For the last time Zeyara just tell me why we are here?"
He glanced at me and then looked away again. "Its a long explanation Mashal. You don't want me to do that while we're standing here on the footpath."
"No! Enough! At least tell me something." This time I was begging him. I couldn't take it any longer. This was torturous.
He sighed, idly running a hand through his hair, "I'm trying to protect you from Ibrahim."
"Wha-"
"Before you ask anything else" Zeyara snapped, interrupting my question, "Please let's just reach home and then I'll tell you."
"Whose home?" I asked with my panic stricken wide eyes.
"The man you call papa......his old home, where he lived before he left Pakistan and shifted to Manchester." He answered me as we walked down the grey pavement. "His elder sister is a widow and lives there with her children. We will stay with them till its safe enough to go back to England."
Instead of saying anything or looking at him, I simply stared down at the ground, shaking my head incredulously. My legs felt weak and there were rats having a party in my empty stomach.....no, not rats but monkeys. Calling them rats would be an understatement. This was so ridiculous. What was happening in my life?
"Hey I'm sorry for what you have to go through." Zeyara said in a soft voice, maybe sensing the tension I had.
I looked up at him and for the first time ever, I felt that it was not just me, he was broken too.
He was just a new neighbor for me but why would he do so much for my sake? I mean if he really is telling the truth that I'm not safe in Manchester then why would he care? He is no one to me.
"If you really are sorry then will you please just answer my one question honestly?" I asked expectantly glancing at him while he walked by my side with his hands in pockets.
He thought for a second before saying "Go on."
"Why are you doing this.......for me?"
He paused and stopped walking. "You still don't know who you are. Right?"
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