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.
Dedicated to Faiza Hussain and her baby girl ;)
Chapter Eight
Madness + Love + Waves = Total …?
Chennai, India
It was past six in the morning and the vast sky towards the east adopting the role of a pretty, exacting woman changed from one dainty coloured robe to another giving a treat to the eyes as it transformed from deep blush to soft pink to caressing lilac to sweet blue while the magnificent sun sedately spread its golden rays.
Down on earth, a slim lark having had a juicy worm for breakfast landed gracefully upon the branch of a Mango tree. Suddenly as if remembering its filled tummy, it burst into loud melodious praise glorifying the Creator. It finally paused and somewhere nearby another lark began softly. Thus, from all the surrounding trees, a melodious concert of glorying praise began in full sway.
When our lark’s turn came again, it puffed its chest and opened its beak to begin yet the next second it paused blinking its beady eyes and cocked its head to one side curiously as if listening. For it had heard the sweet voice of someone glorifying the Praise of Lord in a different tone yet after some moments the lark grudgingly admitted it was more melodious than its own praise!
Upon the terrace in a far corner under the canopy of the branches of the same Mango tree, Humaira sat facing the Qiblah with her eyes closed softly reciting Surah Yaseen. It was her voice that the lark above paused and heard. And what it listened to so curiously was,
“…Ava lam yaral insaanu annaa khalaqnaahu minn nuthfatiin fa idhaa huwa khaseemum mubeen.
(Does not man see that We have created him from Nuthfah [semen drops]. Yet behold! He stands forth as an open opponent.)
Wa dharaba lanaa masalaw wanasiya khalqah. Qaala mayyuhyil ‘Izaama wahiya rameem.
(And he puts forth for Us a parable, and forgets his own creation. He says: “Who will give life to these bones after they are rotten and have become dust?”)
Qul yuhyeehal ladhii annsha Ahaa awwala marrah. Wa huwa bi kulli khalqinn ‘Aleem.
(Say: [O Muhammed S.A.W] “He (Allah!) will give life to them Who created them for the first time! And He is the All-Knower of every creation!”)
Nilladhi ja ‘ala lakum minashajril Akhzari naarann fa izhaa annthum minhu tuuqidoon.
(He Who produces for you fire out of the green tree, when behold! You kindle therewith.)
Awa laisal ladhi khalaqas samaawaati wal ardha bi qaadirinn ‘alaa ainn yakh luqa mislahum. Balaa, wa Huwal Khallaaqul ‘Aleem.
(Is not He Who created the heavens and the earth, Able to create the like of them? Yes Indeed! He is the All-Knowing Supreme Creator.)
Inna maa amruhuu idhaa araada shai ann aiyyaquula lahu kunn fayakoon.
(Verily, His Command, when He intends a thing, is only that He says to it, “Be!” – and it is!)
Fa SubhaanAlladhii bi yadihi malakuutu kulli shai iwn wa ilaihi turja‘oon.
(So glorified be He (Allah!) and exalted above all they associate with Him, and in Whose Hands is the dominion of all things and to Him you shall be returned.)”
And like the lark Humaira paused upon finishing and opened her melting chocolate eyes murmuring Sadaqallaahul ‘Azeem. She startled and blushed seeing Saif standing in front of her, leaning against the parapet with his arms folded looking at her with his usual teasing smile yet his dark eyes were unusually tender.
“Ah Humair that was most beautiful Masha Allah! You know you recite just like Ammi…” He said, coming and sitting down besides her on the soft prayer mat.
Humaira shook her head dimpling. “Ammi’s recitation is heavenly Bhaiya, not like mine.”
“And yours is earthly?” Saif laughed. “Who knows maybe the birds had stopped their glorifying just to listen to your recitation! See how peaceful and hushed everything is…”
“Don’t be silly Saif Bhaiya, have Abba and others came back from Masjid yet?”
“Yes Misbah has gone back to sleep; I left Abba and Habib bhaiya engrossed in the newspapers. Going down Humair?” He asked as Humaira got up.
She nodded. “What will you have Bhaiya, tea or coffee?”
“Nothing it is alright. Don’t go all the way down just for this…”
“I was going anyway, so please say and Bhaiya I wanted to consult something to you.” Humaira said, bending and taking the prayer mat as Saif got up and moved.
“Consulting me? Really Humair? Ya Allah I am feeling important and all that, if everybody starts to do this thing I think my head will turn around stuffed with pride!”
“Well I don’t think others will give you that trouble but Bhaiya I am worried about my children.”
Saif turned and watched her neatly folding the mat.
“Your children? How many?”
Humaira glanced up to his teasing tone and replied seriously yet her little dimple betrayed her.
“Oh around twelve.”
“Allahu Akbar! Do you mean a dozen?” Saif stumbled and dramatically clutched at his heart. “And who is the lucky guy?” He asked feebly.
Humaira shook her head smiling. “Now don’t be silly Saif bhaiya, you know which children I am talking about. I can’t decide whether to give them extra Ahadith to learn or some Surahs or something different while we visit Dubai Insha Allah. What do you think I should do?”
“Give them all nothing, you know just plain holiday!”
Humaira rolled her eyes. “And you an Aalim student Bhaiya!”
“Ah that is why I am saying, yet still they are only children… maybe there is something in what you want to do. Yes come to think of, I see now your way with them is best. Because they being children are easily distracted and if you don’t give them anything to learn and remember by, in a fortnight they may even forget who Humair Di is!”
Humaira laughed. “That would take a little longer I guess. So what do you say Bhaiya?”
“Hmm…let me think Humair.” Saif said thoughtfully as they both entered the Terrace room that he was temporarily occupying.
It was more like a library with rows and rows of all sorts of books. In the corner near a large window, there was a single bed. Besides this upon a table, the large bag of Saif’s was thrown open revealing a mess of clothes and other things.
“Then I think I will go down and get that drink of yours, coffee Bhaiya?”
Saif nodded absently, still in thought.
It was almost five days since Habib’s invitation to his home and as she descended down, Humaira’s thoughts whirled to the other thousand incomplete jobs she had yet to do before they left on the day after morrow. Every single day had been like a crazy whirlwind and there had been so much to do. Even though all was helping and doing more than their works, the packing of her clothes and Umar’s was still pending. She had postponed it to this afternoon.
When she went back upstairs after fifteen minutes, both Umar and Yahya trailed after her.
In her arms lay Hafsa and her playthings while Umar carefully brought the cup of steaming coffee. Beside him, an adorably tousled looking Yahya brought the little packet of biscuits with an important air.
Entering the room, she found Saif busily scribbling on a sheet of paper. Looking up at their entry, he broke into his handsome grin,
“Everybody come to see me?”
“Saif bhaiya let’s play cricket. See I brought you your coffee.” Umar said returning the grin, almost thrusting the hot cup in Saif’s hand.
Humaira who had laid Hafsa and her things upon the bed hastily grabbed the packet of biscuits, which she saw Yahya had every idea of dropping inside the scalding coffee.
“Saif Bhaiya’s!” He cried looking at her accusingly.
“Nor do I want it little guy.” Humaira laughed, keeping it beside the cup on the table.
“Later Umar later, I am busy now.” Saif was saying to Umar who danced around impatiently coaxing him to come and play.
“Later surely Insha Allah? Promise by Allah?”
Saif sighed and nodded with a smile earning whoops and thanks. Leaving him, Umar skipped outside to the terrace while Yahya followed behind.
“How come her highness has come up?” Saif asked, looking at Hafsa who gazed back at him without blinking through bright black eyes.
“Bhabi is helping Ammi with the breakfast and our poor highness lay alone crying ‘cause nobody was paying any attention to her.” Humaira said softly with a smile, bending and kissing her.
“And bhaiya did you decide?” She asked looking back at him.
Saif nodded and pointed to a slim book.
“You know Humair this book is a gist of our Prophet Muhammed’s (Peace be upon him) Seerah (life history). And from that I have taken only the most important events and incidents. I will manage to finish it within a single sheet Insha Allah. Photo copy it and distribute, tell your children that they must know it by heart by the time you come back.”
“Oh Saif Bhaiya, this is excellent! Jazak Allah so much, I knew you would help me out…what was that?” Humaira gasped, getting up and looking towards the door where she had caught a glimpse of Umar and Yahya madly running around with…
“No Bhaiya you keep an eye on Hafsa please, I will go and look.” She said to Saif who had got up too.
“Umar Farooq! What do you think you are doing?” Humaira said calmly looking at Umar, doing an admirable effort of controlling her anger. Both the boys and almost half of the terrace were completely drenched and Umar was acting weirdly with an open water hose in his hands while Yahya hopped around him shouting in gleeful abandon.
“Humair Di! The tap is not closing, I tried so many times.”
“And who told you to open it?” Humaira asked sternly, taking the hose from his hands soon after she closed the tap.
Looking at her face, Umar read the anger and hung his head.
“I am so sorry Di, I just wanted to water the pots.” He mumbled, presenting a pathetic looking figure. Yahya who had stopped his dancing looked inquiringly from one face to another.
“That was nice of you Umar, but don’t you think you should have asked first?” Humaira said in a softened tone.
Umar nodded and mumbled sorry again.
Humaira sighed. “Oh well don’t ever repeat this and ask permission first. Now go and change that dress of yours before you catch the death of cold. And what about you young guy? Who will change your clothes? Your mamma is busy and she will get a heart attack if she saw you in this condition…” She asked looking at Yahya who gave her an impish grin, only half understanding her words.
Taking him by hand, Humaira led Yahya back to the room as Umar bounded downstairs.
“Saif Bhiaya I will change his clothes and come, please do watch Hafsa.” She said, after narrating what had took place while Saif laughed heartily.
It was another ten minutes before she trudged upstairs again, with various stern instructions to both the boys though she had little belief on their being carried out.
Humaira entered the room and paused suddenly hearing Saif’s angry voice. He was glaring at Hafsa, his hand upon his dark beard and was almost shouting,
“I ask again, is there a sign of ‘Pull’ written here huh? Then why in Allah’s Name... Ouch…!”
Suppressing a laugh, Humaira hurried and came between both before things could turn murderous.
“Ya Allah Humair! Take her away…just look into her fist; see how many hairs she has pulled.” Saif continued glaring.
This time Humaira laughed merrily. “Oh Bhaiya why do you get so angry for this? She does the same with everybody from Abba to Habib bhaiya!”
“Oh I won’t have cared if it was done accidently. But no she lures us with her pretty eyes and when we bend to kiss her, there! And you know what she did after pulling? She gurgled happily!”
Humaira shook her head dimpling at this outburst of Saif, thinking how much indeed like boys grownup men are.
Yet it was a whole two hours before he let Hafsa go and that too after carrying her down himself and reluctantly parting upon Humaira’s teasing that there is someone called mamma who was asking for her baby.
Until after lunch, their house, which Humaira had decided as gone mad, became even crazier. The reason was mainly the two little boys.
“Ya Allah please bless me with a girl.” Saira prayed fervently, looking up at the heavens after having rescued them both from the branches of the trees playing the exciting and dangerous game called, ‘Jumping like Tarzan!’
“Oh give me a thousand girls and I will show you how superb I am at managing and things but give me ten boys and I am dead!” Humaira moaned sitting upon the stairs with her head in her hands.
The news had just come from their neighbour that two of their windowpanes were broken, shattered into pieces while Umar indignantly declared it was an awesome six!
It was after lunch and Zuhr Salah that Humaira stood in a sea of clothes and things beside an open suitcase.
“And pray what is that?” She was asking Umar who had added another item to his long row of things that he had decided to bring with him.
“Oh my favourite ball Di, I always catch more wickets with this.” He replied seriously, touching the ball with a fond gesture.
Humaira opened her mouth with a sarcastic remark but closed it again knowing that the sarcasm would be lost upon him. Her head was throbbing and the packing seems to be going nowhere. She remained silent until Umar ran outside the room leaving her with a vague fear that maybe he had remembered some other item. She stared at the pile of his various odd things, which included a huge kite to two cricket bats and a dozen balls to his painting folio, and a large kit of painting materials and some queer looking rocks and a …
Humaira sighed when Umar came back running again.
“Humair Di, the library man has come; he is asking books he is asking…”
“Oh Umar please stop shouting and yes tell him to wait. I will bring the books from my room.”
When she returned, Umar took the books and the money for the other books that she had ordered. But it was Saif who entered with the other books and looked around the messy room with an interesting air.
“What Humair, still packing? I finished mine two hours before.”
“Well I guess I will finish the clothes soon Insha Allah but what do you think about these?” She said, indicating towards Umar’s possessions.
Saif laughed. “My followers’s huh? Want me to persuade him to reduce his items?”
“Please do Bhaiya and I will be forever grateful to you!”
“And Humair who censors the books you read? You are still a young girl…”
Humaira rolled his eyes at his teasing tone.
“No one huh? I will do it then,” Randomly opening one book, Saif cleared his throat audibly while Humaira calmly continued with the packing.
“ ‘…and she cried and sobbed as if her heart would break…’ Ya Allah!” Saif slammed it shut with a disgusted look making Humaira chuckle.
He opened another and began again. “ ‘…know that the vengeance of God will not leave you! She spat at his face.’ Lord!” Saif looked in mock-horror, almost throwing it away.
Still opening another, he flipped some pages before pausing with an ‘Aha!’
“ ‘…He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead tenderly, Won’t you forgive me mother? He asked in a penitent tone.’ Mother?” Saif closed it with a snap.
“What do you want Bhaiya? Romance huh? I have some books upstairs, shall I bring?”
Saif gave her a look making her laugh delightedly. But soon she was close to tearing her hair with Saira saying to her seriously after surveying her packed clothes.
“But Humair dear not even a single Ghagra choli! No listen to me, who knows some occasion will drop and you won’t have anything grand to wear. May Allah forbid!” Saira shuddered. “No not this one, where is your golden and red one? Upstairs! No don’t go now again, I won’t wonder if you faint in exhaustion. Look at him wasting time and reading what…Novels! Syed Saifullah! Is this how you set an example to others?”
Saif glanced up and gave her an irritated look.
“What is it you want Saira?”
Saira rolled here eyes. “Well if your majesty could spare a moment for his sisters, could you go up to Humair’s room and bring one of her Ghagra?”
Saif closed the book reluctantly.
“Oh okay tell me where is it actually and Humair this one is really good, give it to me some other time Insha Allah, I wonder what happens to him…” He mused, standing up and stretching himself.
Humaira smiled. “It is alright Bhaiya; I will go and get it.”
“Nah Humair, tell me its location. Your wardrobe huh?”
Just then, Kadhija entered with Umar carrying large boxes and deposited it beside the suitcase.
“Ya Allah Ammi! Don’t tell me I have to pack these too! There is really no space.” Humaira exclaimed in horror.
“Oh they are all for Saif dear, don’t you worry about it. Dadima sent them.”
Dadima was the sister of Abdullah’s mother who adored Saif. She was a blunt lady who expressed her opinion frankly about each and everyone yet towards Saif even from his childhood, she had a very soft corner in her heart.
“Er what are they Ammi?” Saira asked peering curiously, as Kadhija opened one box with considerable effort.
“For me Ammi? They look amazing Masha Allah!” Saif declared looking at the neat rows and rows of sweets and delicacies.
“Saif if you eat them all you will become horribly fat!” Saira giggled imagining.
“But why so many Ammiji?” Saif asked looking at the other three unopened boxes.
“Well as soon as she got to know that you are going to visiting Dubai, she had started making them all. May Allah SWT bless her kind heart!” Kadhija said, pushing the box towards her children motioning with her head to take and eat.
“Aameen!” Saif smiled, taking a bite. “But Ammi why?
“Oh she has this notion that all Dubai’s processed sweets and snacks are bad for health, so yeah she called me saying that I have to send these boxes with you and she will call you soon to get your promise that you won’t touch any junk food except what she had sent.” Kadhija said solemnly with twinkling eyes.
As both Humaira and Saira burst into laughter, Saif only shrugged with a smile.
“She is wonderful Ammi.”
Kadhija nodded while Saira said,
“Ah you say so ‘cause she never said what she really thought of you as for us…” She paused as if unable to go further.
“Who said she did not express her frank opinion about me? Ever since I can remember, she always said that she thought me very charming just like she always said that you were…”
“Ammi!” Saira complained cutting his sentence before he could complete, giving him a furious glance.
“Enough of this! Don’t behave like little children you two.” Kadhija chided as Saif stuck his tongue out imitating Saira’s gesture.
“And Saif don’t trouble Humair child with these boxes, if you want then take them all and pack with your own clothes and things or just take some from every box and will you stop that teasing for some minutes!”
It was only after ‘Asr Salah that Humaira finally closed the large suitcase with a tired sigh mingled with satisfaction while Umar and Yahya clapped in joy and hugged her. Humaira wondered as she hugged them back thinking only Allah alone knew how children knew to repay and comfort without uttering a single word.
As Habib and Heena would soon be leaving and not come back for more than six months, they had gone every day for their daily invites from various relations and today too they both came back home only after Maghrib.
“Humair I can’t seem to find my Niqaab, do you have a spare one?” Saira asked anxiously looking at Humaira who was tying her own Niqaab hurriedly. They both were dressed in their black Abayas and hijab and were standing in Abba Ammi’s room.
“Are you coming yet Saira?” Misbah’s impatient voice came from the living hall.
“Just a minute just a minute.” Saira called back and walked around as if her feet were on fire waiting for Humaira who had run upstairs for the other Niqaab.
They were both pulling their dark gloves when Umar came shouting inside,
“Saira Di Humair Di everybody is waiting, please hurry!”
“Coming coming!” Saira said and after coming outside Humaira locked the front door securely, reciting Ayat ul Kursi.
She went and sat inside the car behind Abdullah who was impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Beside Abdullah in the front, Kadhija sat while beside Humaira at back Heena and Habib sat with Hafsa.
In front of the car, two motor bikes stood ready to take off. One carrying Misbah and Saira, the other Saif with the boys.
“Alhamdulillah then,” Abdullah said, motioning the bikes to go ahead after closing the large gates. “Everybody recite the travelling Dua…Bismillah, Alhamdulillah. Subhaanalladhi sakh-kharalanaa haadha wamaa kunnaa lahumuqrineen. Wa inna ila Rabbinaa lamunn qaliboon.”
(In the Name of Allah. All Praise is to Allah. Glory is to Him Who has provided this for us, though we could never have had it by our efforts. Surely unto our Lord are we returning.)
Humaira took Hafsa from Heena and buried her Niqaab covered face among the soft bundle of layers while she continued murmuring the Dua,
“Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.”
“Subhaana-kalla-humma inni zalamtu nafsii faghfir lii, fa innahu la yagh firurudhdhunooba illa anta”
(Praise be to Allah. Praise be to Allah. Praise be to Allah. Allah is Great. Allah is Great. Allah is Great.
Glory is to You. Oh Allah, I have wronged my own soul. Forgive me, surely none forgives sins but You.)
They were all visiting the beach as they did every year when Habib and Heena came to India. Holidaying in Chennai yet not visiting its famous Marina beach is something not even thought of.
When Abdullah halted at a red signal, both the bikes paused beside it. There would have been tough competition between the two friends but remembering their occupants behind, both drove sensibly. While Saif and Misbah grinned, Saira’s eyes bubbled with laughter through the Niqaab and Umar and Yahya shouted lustily for all their worth. “Abba! Ammi! Mamma! Papa! Humair Di!”
Habib smiled his soft smile, waving back at his son and little brother. He turned and looked at Heena, taking her hand in his. Their eyes locked and she smiled back behind her Niqaab, yet he read it easily from her twinkling eyes.
Heena remembered those years of her school and college life when she had never worn Niqaab. An engineering graduate like her husband, she had been working in a private institute six years ago when the alliance of Habib’s family had come to her parents. They had been readily satisfied with his occupation, salary, and photo, yet they paused when considering the large family. How could a girl who had grown up with no siblings adjust into such a big family? Yet the knowledge that Habib would take his wife back with him to U.A.E put an end to all their misgivings. Soon Abdullah’s family had visited and both the sides had been pleased. And it was mutually agreed that Heena would stop working after marriage. Later Heena came to know it had been Habib’s decision. He had said 'As long as I breath, I will provide for my family and it is Allah SWT who is Ar Razzaq, the Best of all Providers and He is enough to satisfy all our needs!'
To Habib, Kadhija had said 'Don’t pause for the only reason that she is a working girl, I can see that she possesses excellent character and her parents too show fine behaviour. Do Istikhaara and Allah SWT will show whether she is destined for you or not.' And Allah SWT had indeed shown!
It did not take more than a week for Heena to fall in love with her husband and his family. Her parents had thought that she would be eager to go and settle with him in Dubai. Yet for a girl who had only been like an onlooker all her life to brothers and sisters, it was not surprising that from Abdullah to Humaira everybody became dear to her and Heena had thought her life was more than filled and satisfied. The incredible thing was that the very first time when going to Dubai, she became reluctant to part from this sweet family and it was only the thought that Habib would be pained kept her smiling and going through everything normally. Yet in the flight, when she had burst into uncontrollable tears, she saw her grief was nothing when compared to Habib’s!
The first two weeks after their marriage when he had taken her around the city and to various relations houses, Heena noted that Habib would look at her a little strangely yet he neither spoke a word nor asked her to wear Niqaab. It was later that she came to understand what that look meant. One day after two weeks, when he was working in his laptop, she had sat watching him thinking how to ask him, how to tell him. Suddenly he had looked up and caught her looking at him.
“What is it?” He had asked with his usual, delightful smile.
She had shaken her head immediately and mumbled, “Nothing.”
“Alright then let’s have it out!” He said, pushing aside his laptop while she looked at him wonderingly.
“I have sisters you know, when they say its nothing, I know for sure there is something.” He had laughed while she smiled a little.
“So?”
“It is just…it is… well I have decided that I want to wear Niqaab.” Heena had said, not looking at him.
When there had been no answer, she had glanced up and immediately recognized the strange look that shone in his eyes.
He had extended his hands and she placed hers in them. Tightening his grasp around them, he said slowly as if revealing a most sweet secret, “He made you mine Heena…Jazak Allah for this decision!” and the next second she had found herself crushed to his heart while her whole soul thrilled as he whispered against her hair, “You are only mine!”
She knew that she would forget neither the look nor his words until her last breath.
“Okay how many sugarcane juices, just tell me the number?” Saif said as their large group stood at the outskirts of the beach, waiting for Abdullah who had gone to park the car.
Soon they found places to sit and drink and Humaira glanced around happily, as she slowly sipped the ice-cold juice. It looked like almost half of the city was there, yet it was not crowded. And the cool breeze blew gently and caressingly without a pause beating even the latest AC… Humaira glanced up at the moon and the twinkling stars and then looked around her again. As far as eyes could reach, lights blinked and winked just like stars all around the beach. Not for nothing, Marina was known as the second longest beach in the world!
As neither Umar nor Yahya wanted to sit in the various kids rides, (they wanted to PLAY!) all trudged towards the water.
Spreading a sheet, they all finally sat down while Misbah asked who wanted to eat hot and steamy Bajjis? The next ten minutes was spent shouting and changing orders and the other ten eating and joking…
“How come I am not screaming and begging for water?” Saira asked after tentatively eating half of her chilly bajji.
“It is capsicum silly, still it would be a great sight to see you screaming and begging…”
“Saif!”
“I think it is my turn now, everybody their flavours please.” Habib said smiling and getting up.
“Ice cream!” Umar and Yahya both shouted in chorus.
“Ya Allah Bhaiya, I can’t eat a single bite more.” Humaira shook her head.
But nobody seemed to listen to nobody and again the shouting and running and ordering process got repeated while in the midst Umar tripped and dropped one of the cones in the sand.
Not ten minutes passed when Abdullah said glancing at his watch, “Time for ‘Isha Salah. I hope everybody is in Wudu, ‘cause the bathrooms are I guess there.” He pointed towards a remote corner of the beach.
As they all smiled or chuckled, he added, “The ladies of course have the option to pray when they get back home.”
After some moments, Umar’s loud full-throated voice sent the call for Prayer around the beach as he said the Adhaan.
“Allahu Akbar Allahu Akbar!”
(Allah is the Greatest Allah is the Greatest!)
“Allahu Akbar Allahu Akbar!”
(Allah is the Greatest Allah is the Greatest!)
“Ash hadu anLaa ilaha illa Allah! Ash hadu anLaa ilaha illa Allah!”
(I bear witness that there is no god but Allah! I bear witness that there is no god but Allah!)
“Ash hadu anna Muhammadur Rasoolullah! Ash hadu anna Muhammadur Rasoolullah!”
(I bear witness that Muhammed [S.A.W] is his messenger! I bear witness that Muhammed [S.A.W] is his messenger!)
“Hayya ‘Alas Salah! Hayya ‘Alas Salah!”
(Rush to Prayer! Rush to Prayer!)
“Hayya ‘Alal Falah! Hayya ‘Alal Falah!”
(Rush to success! Rush to success!)
“Allahu Akbar Allahu Akbar!”
(Allah is the Greatest Allah is the Greatest!)
“Laa ilaha illa Allah!”
(There is no god but Allah!)
From the women, Kadhija and Humaira stood up to join the men as they formed a perfect row facing the Qiblah. Though Saif persuaded Abdullah to lead the prayer, he had shaken his said saying, “While there is an Hafiz among us, lay men cannot lead.”
But as Saira and Heena watched, both the women again came back and sat down with them.
“What happened Ammiji? Who were those men?” Saira inquired, looking at some figures of men who had joined their own group and stood talking with Abdullah.
“Muslims of course dear, they heard the Adhaan and have come to join in Prayer.” Kadhija replied, holding firm her Niqaab that swayed to the soft wind’s tune.
Humaira watched too as more men came and joined until their row was divided into two. She had very much wanted to pray here in the beach behind Saif Bhaiya. But standing in Salah means removing your Niqaab in front of Allah, and after those men had come neither she nor Kadhija knew they could do it. It was best that they pray when they get back home.
It was more than twenty minutes before the men came and joined them. Saira went for a stroll with Misbah and Saif while Humaira and Kadhija persuaded Heena to go with Habib. Thus it was how while Abdullah lay and watched Kadhija talking and cooing to Hafsa, Humaira played tag with the boys.
“That is cheating!” She declared hotly after sometime, sweat drenching her Abaya and Hijab while her Niqaab clung to her face.
As both Umar and Yahya rolled on the sand laughing at her madness, Humaira huffed and went back with the parting shot, “I won't play with you two again!”
She sat down besides Abdullah who asked laughingly, “Those two beat you huh?”
“They are ch…oh well yes I guess they are quick with their feet in the sand while mine refuses to move…” Humaira joined with him in laughing at the image of her clumsy stumbling self.
Some how, they both came again, coaxing and persuading her to join. But she shook her head and refused to budge.
“Oh Humair Di, no tag. Let’s play something else…what about Down with the mountain? Oh yes let’s play that! Let’s play Down with the mountain!” Umar hopped around her excitedly while Yahya echoed him. “Let’s play let’s play!” until she relented and joined them.
Moving a little apart, the trio began to build a mountain of sand. It was no easy task. As the sand was dry and powdery, it easily tumbled down again when they heaped it into a mound. Still they did not bother and build it leisurely with shouts and laughter finding a treasure trove of shells and empty wrappers and ice- cream sticks, corks…
Soon Saif came alone and seeing their engineering skills, rolled up his sleeves and joined them in earnest despite Kadhija’s protest that the wind was blowing sand in their direction. Finally they all stood up, proudly observing their handiwork. The mountain was indeed huge!
Just then, both the couples came back and joined them. They started persuading others to go and wet their feet in the waves. Kadhija shook her head adamantly but both her children and husband finally managed to convince her. She and Abdullah only stood for a few moments as the waves lapped at their feet before going back again.
“Remember Saif how you used to cry that you won’t stand in the water?” Saira teased while Misbah held her hand tighter.
Saif shrugged. “I have a bad memory.”
Humaira laughed and clutched his hand firmly as a large wave half drenched them.
Umar whooped in delight and called to the sea, “Once more please!”
Moments passed and it became darker while the waves became almost humongous. Only Saif, Humaira and Umar remained in the water.
“Not satisfied yet you two?” He drawled, while both clung to his hands on opposite sides in ecstasy mixed with fright.
“Just one more time Bhaiya, last time please…” Humaira begged breathlessly, her whole self was soaked in salt water like her brothers.
“That is what you have been saying for the past ten minutes!”
Another five minutes elapsed before he shook his head and said firmly, “That is enough you two, Abba will become angry besides it is becoming late.”
When they came back after yet another last time, every one had got up and was waiting patiently for them.
“Heart is content child?” Abdullah asked looking at Humaira with a twinkle who nodded back her head vigorously making him chuckle.
“Humair Di, Saira Di Bhabi everybody come, we are playing the final part of Down with the mountain!” Umar shouted, skipping around the large mountain of sand delightedly.
Saira and Heena shook their heads and Misbah pretended to look somewhere else when his name was called. Habib politely refused, going and standing beside Abdullah and Kadhija watching the proceedings with his soft smile.
So in the end it was only the makers who finally stood holding hands around the mountain in a circle.
“Here goes then,” Saif’s voice boomed. “Down with the mountain 1 2 3!”
Even before he reached 3, all together jumped and sat upon the mountain making it into a shapeless heap laughing their heads off.
“Alright then, let’s play another game, who wants to come home?” Abdullah called, starting and walking back towards the city.
Thus they all trudged back happily with content and peace surrounding their hearts and laughter. Their footprints like the thousand others in the dry sand were soon blown away into oblivion by the breeze. And those towards the water was washed away by the succeeding waves. People indeed are foolish who think and live like they will last forever. Like the wind and waves erasing away the footprints, their lives too would be blown one day for sure and gradually the wind of Time would wipe clean even the Sand of memories. And everyone would become answerable to every single deed they sent forth before. It is they who are successful who together when they enjoy the world and its delights do not forget the Lord, nor His commands and earning His pleasure always remains their motive while even the thought of dis-obeying Him is abhorrent to their very heart and soul. Thus those who have pleased Him, find the crown of success falling at their feet both in this world and in hereafter!
*****
A/N ;)
Alhamdulillah! So what do think? Long huh? Yea it seemed to go on and on, couldn't stop myself…hope you enjoyed ;)) Jazak Allahu Khairan Kaseera for reading!
With Duas and Salaam,
abdurRahman (Gudi ;))