Chapter Twenty Two
"The wedding"
"في الإنتظار، نموت كثيرًا و لا نُريد سوى الحضور"
Mahra
The night before the wedding
I was sitting in my room looking at a picture of me and my mother-in-law, Umm Zayed, from yesterday’s function. I was covered with gold from head to toe and wore a traditional Emirati green dress on my laylat-al-Henna. Despite me refusing to dress in a conventional manner, my mother insisted I do since she is a very traditionalistic person. She even did a Miksaar for me, which is a very old tradition where people show all the stuff the bride buys for herself, to the guests; such as clothes, shoes and gold.
I looked through the pictures and saw a picture of me and Laylah sitting together, another with me and Mona, there was also one where I was smiling at a joke which Zayed’s grandmother had cracked when she came to meet me. It was a nice one, the picture I mean. Another one where Sara and I sat together, I noticed my slanted backbone and posture, my neck a bit tilted, which didn’t look good.
Quick note to self: Sit straight no matter how tired you are.
But I wasn’t to be blamed for being tired; my days were spent going from the mall to the dentist and to the beauty Salon, and my nights were spent thinking about Zayed, who wasn’t just any man I first saw at work, he was my husband now, by obeying the Sunnah of Allah and his messenger.
No longer integrated with the pictures, I was lost in the beautiful memories that I made with my to-be family, when a soft knock on my door made me look up. The door knob clicked and in came my mother along with my aunt Amna —who’d stayed here last night — with a loving smile in their eyes.
“Hala Mahra,” They both greeted in unison. My mother walked up to the large rectangular box that was placed on the floor, carrying my wedding dress and sat down beside it. Aunt Amna on the other hand came to sit beside me on the chair near my window.
This was weird!
“What’s wrong?” I asked, eyeing both of them.
“Nothing,” I heard Aunt Amna say. She took my hand and looked at the dark brown color of the henna on my hands.
“Why would something be wrong?” mother joined in, opening the box and running a hand over my dress. Not receiving a satisfying reply, I stared at them for an explanation for their unexpected arrival.
“We wanted to spend some time with you, since tonight is your last night in this house.” Aunt Amna said, with a sad smile. Before she even finished her sentence I placed my hand on my face and rested it on the headrest.
“You want to make me cry.” I groaned.
“We’re here to talk to you about ‘you’.” My mother’s voice said calmly. I sat straight again, looking at them.
“I’d rather say to advise you.” Aunt Amna confided, with a playful look which made me smile.
“Don’t you think I am a little old for that?” I smirked. I mean at twenty four I knew all about ‘How to behave with people’.
“Mahra my child,” mother continued, closing the box and turning to face me. “A person is never old enough to receive advise, and now that you are going to start a new life, with a new family and an unfamiliar man, who may or may not be of your own temperament, you need to be told how to behave with them because there are things—in the life that you’re headed to—you haven’t experienced before.”
Mother paused to catch her breath and I knew that this was the introduction of a lecture that would probably be two hours long. So I patiently encouraged them with a nod.
“There will be a lot of beautiful times but some bad ones too,” Aunt Amna added, and I turned towards her, eyes narrowed. “Although I pray almighty would keep all evil away from you, but you have to act smart in all terms.” She finished and glanced at mother for support.
“We do not mean to frighten you, my child, or scatter your trust in yourself but most of the times you act according to your heart and forget the mind. I am your mother and you are my child, I know you very well.” In a way my mother was calling me naïve but I didn’t mind that, it was her last sentence that touched my heart. She really was my mother and had done more for me than a real mother ever would.
Aunt Amna and I watched her as she pondered over her words. “Patience dear child, with patience you can win everyone’s heart.” Mother carried on and I saw aunt Amna nodding from the corner of my eyes. “And care… for the young or the old, the good or the bad.” She stated, inviting me to comprehend all that she was trying to say. “There are two things in this world we cannot deny: Love and Care, and two things in this world we cannot neglect: Patience and decent morals.”
I grew silent, and just like a good daughter would, I listened. I listened to what message was it that they wanted to convey. They both kept advising me about how to behave with my husband and in-laws. What I should and shouldn’t do. It seemed like according to my mother there was no room for mistakes, which somewhat terrified me. What if I commit a mistake and ruin everything?
Will I still be wanted or cherished there?
Will I ever be wanted or cherished there? Uncle Waleed claimed that I was like his daughter, but no matter what he says, there is a difference between a daughter and a daughter-in-law!
Finally after a long hour, they said farewell and asked me to have some good beauty sleep; that is if sleep was gonna come after that long lecture. Mother let the door open saying she’d send Asma to sleep with me. I nodded and watched them go away. Suddenly an empty feeling, like I was a guest in my own house rose in my heart. I got up and took a picture of my father, which was placed on my bed-side table, and put it in one of the bags that I was taking with me.
A huge lump was forming in my throat as I fought back sudden tears. That was when another knock came at the door, rougher than the last one. It was Hamad this time.
“Hey,” I choked, my voice betraying me and instantly looked down at the bag to cover up.
“Why are you still up?”
“Mom and aunt Amna just left after ‘advising’ me.” I said, glancing at him.
“You mean lecturing you?” He smiled and came to sit on my bed. I sat at a small distance from him, near my bag.
“Yeah, sort of.” I murmured, pushing the bag toward the wall making some space in my busy room then turned to face him.
“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you after lunch.” I asked, as if I missed him and to be honest, I did. Don’t know how I’ll live without seeing Hamad every day. God knows how often am I going to see him after today!
“I was at Rashid’s place. He held a dinner for Zayed, saying that we should celebrate his last days of being a bachelor.” Hamad informed in a mischievous tone, playing with the bottle of water that he carried in his hand, looking ready to go to bed.
I nodded and changed the topic. “Why aren’t you asleep?” I questioned, trying to look away from him since he was focusing on my eyes.
“I was going to.” He said and I was sure he had noticed something odd by now. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I instantly denied, shrugging my shoulders.
“No, you look like something’s bothering you.” He observed.
“Of course something’s bothering me!” I gave a queasy laugh which I was sure didn’t reach my eyes. “I am getting married tomorrow.” I squealed, which didn’t make sense ‘cause I was already married and was being given away tomorrow.
“Nervous?” Hamad asked, with a playful look. I hated to admit it but I was a little or may be a lot nervous, so I nodded slightly.
“Well, don’t be.” He began. I thought he would say something new but my brother repeated what he’d once told me. “Zayed’s a good man.” But that wasn’t what I feared. I feared he wouldn’t like me. And yes, Sara was right, I did question myself.
When I didn’t reply nor did I look up to him, he said: “You used to find him intolerably proud. Do you still feel the same way?” He recalled, with a wry smile.
I took a moment to think about it.
“Well, partially yes.” I said, tugging my bangs behind my ear. “I mean he hasn’t done anything to change my mind.” I declared, trying to show Hamad the opposite of what I actually felt. “But I have a theory.” I sat facing him and crossed my feet on the floor.
“You do?” He asked eyebrows knitted.
“Yeah,” I pursed my lips, nodding. “I have known you for twenty four years now and from what I have seen I can tell that you are a smart person,” This made Hamad smirk but I didn’t comment on it and carried on. “And seeing that Zayed’s been your friend for so long, you must have seen something special in him to show him such great loyalty.”
Hamad frowned. “What do you mean when you say ‘Loyalty’?” He questioned.
I bit my lower lip. I didn’t want the conversation to take such a turn but I said what I had to say, nonetheless. “I mean, you gave him your sister without much thought, without even considering it with me first. Isn’t that loyalty?” I replied, looking closely in his brown eyes.
He lowered his gaze, a pinch of shame swam in his eyes. “So you’re saying that I shouldn’t have done what I did?” He asked.
“No, I didn’t say that. I am just afraid your blinded trust might be costly for all of us.” I put forward a layer of my insecurities.
“You’re only saying that because you don’t know Zayed.” He said, shaking his head. “As for your theory it’s…it’s vice versa.” He looked at his feet and with a lower voice he added: “I must have something special in me to be his friend.” He paused, “Zayed’s a better man than I ever could be.” He praised making me snort.
“If you’re saying this only to make me feel good, then I suggest you stop it. You guys have already praised him a lot, making me feel like he’s some flawlessly perfect and incomparable creature who I am lucky to have as a life partner.” I rolled my eyes and heard Hamad laugh.
“You realize you’re talking about your husband here.” He noted and I looked down, giggling. “I didn’t say he’s perfect. Everyone has flaws.” He stated, relieved that the conversation was light again.
“May be he has too many.” I guessed.
“No, it’s you who has uncountable flaws.” He teased and I gawked at him, my eyes wide with some pretense of displeasure.
“Get out of my room.” I said with a playful tone, pointing to the open door. Hamad laughed again, ignoring me.
“Seriously come to think of it, you’re a social-butterfly and sometimes too loud compared to him.” Hamad said between laughs.
“So what? He isn’t?” I asked in a snappy way, now a bit offended.
“No, not really, unlike you he’s very quiet and calm.” He ridiculed, making me angry. “And very smart, I mean he could fool you in a matter of seconds.”
This was it!
I stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him out. “Get out of my room Hamad.” I cried.
“Wait, but opposites attract ya ghabiah (you fool)” He said and that was the last sentence I heard when I threw him out of my room and closed the door. I don’t know if talking to him made me feel better or worse.
That night I had very little sleep, exhausted from my failed attempts of falling asleep and from thinking about what tomorrow will bring for me. I felt a huge empty space within myself and I didn’t know what do I fill it with, with hopes of starting a new life or sorrow of leaving my old one? I felt as if the Earth wasn’t strong enough to carry me, and the sky not wide enough to embrace me. And so I was stuck between the Earth and the sky.
If Zayed was written in my fate then he must know that he will always be in my prayers which come from my heart. If he is my prayer then I shall remain faithful to him all my life, even if my hope lengthened.
~*♥*
The wedding day
Friday- 3:45 PM
Nouf and Ayesha helped me get ready and carried my bags downstairs as I sat in my room waiting for Sara and Reem, who were to take me to the hotel where my beautician waited. It was nearly four in the evening as I sat impatiently on my bed until finally, they both came, wearing their Abayas and all ready to leave. I scolded and chastised them for being late but thankfully they didn’t reply, careful not to play with my already disturbed nerves.
Away from everyone’s sights, we got to the car and drove our way to the hotel. I got anxious with every passing minute. By the time we reached the hotel, I was a hysterical mess but tried to hide it as much as I could in front of Reem and Sara. It was embarrassing to admit my nervousness in front of Sara, ‘cause I had laughed a lot at her on her wedding day.
I let them take me to the room which was booked for me, the bride’s dressing room, where my stylist waited for me along with my jewelry, make up and dress. She smiled when she saw me all agitated and told me to calm down. She knew exactly what I wanted and we’d practiced the hair and make-up once before so there was nothing to worry about.
Seconds, minutes and hours passed and I sat on my nerves, barely able to collect my scattered feelings as my stylist made her way through my hair and make-up. After I’d put on my dress with Sara and my stylist’s help and we were in the middle of a story that Alia was explaining when my mother and Reem arrived together. Mom’s eyes were watery and tears threatened to gush in mine as well.
“This is not the right time to cry.” Sara reminded, making us smile. Mother came to sit beside me; I think she was reading some verses of Quran. I turned from her to Reem; she gave me an encouraging smile.
“How do I look?” I asked to help myself from crying.
“Breathtaking.” She complimented, with awed eyes.
“No women could do such great justice to a white dress. You look beautiful.” Mom added, placing both my hands in hers and I felt as if I was on the seventh sky. I turned to the mirror to see if they weren’t flattering me and when I took a glance at myself, I knew they weren’t.
My Zuhair Murad tulle ball gown dress was exactly what I had dreamt to wear on this special day of my life. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline which brought my collar bone and shoulders into view. The swarvoski crystals and rihnestones that were beaded along the bust line to the waist, shone like ice as the lights in the room fell on them.
I turned side-ways to look at my long-length veil which was combined with a tiara right above my up-do giving it an elegant look. Staring at the train of the dress and the long veil, I thought of how would I control it? Too many bad thoughts came to me and I decided to ignore them…but couldn’t.
“What if I stumble and fall?” I stammered, turning to my audience. The stylist, Reem and Sara laughed whereas mom acted as if she hadn’t heard. I turned to Sara who would understand my situation.
“Stay with me, just like I did with you.” I told her and she nodded, smoothing out her long fish-tale dress. I turned to Reem and knew there was no need to tell her, she would always be beside me. As we shared a look she came forth and placed a hand on my bare shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there and Asma will hold the dress for you.” I remembered my niece Asma, she and Saleh were both my flower girl and boy.
“I’ll send her to you when I go down.” Mother spoke to me and then faced Reem. “Bring her down in half an hour.” She told my sister and cousin.
~*♥*
Half an hour later
9:30 PM
I stood behind the door for what it seemed like hours, when finally someone pushed open the door and the spot light fell on me. An abrupt silence fell in the hall and was soon followed by whispers; I knew they had seen me. Then began the song of the Zifah and I stayed where I was.
The huge hall was dark; it was I and only I, who shone like a diamond here tonight. When my eyes adjusted to the lights, I looked around in the hall and saw hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at me.I stood there, ignoring my trembling legs, shaking hands and the thumping of my heart which seemed to be louder than the ear-piercing music, until Sara ushered me to walk down the aisle and that was my cue. I tightened my grip on my bouquet as if it was the only thing I could hold on to; where in reality I was holding it.
Taking a deep breath and with an unbalanced heart which seemed to be beating in my throat, I took a careful step and entered the hall with my right leg first. Looking ahead at the camerawoman, who asked me to smile at her camera; I tried to be as graceful as I could.
Slightly shifting my head and looking around, I saw my family, friends and colleagues in different corners of the hall. I twirled to face the camera again, probably smiling, and ahead of me were a few more steps that lead to the stage where I’d be joined by Zayed.
At the thought of him, I looked down, quickly realizing that I shouldn’t have done that, I spun my head to the left side and saw his mother, sitting at the table nearest to the stage. She looked at me with a half-smile and wonder in her eyes. When our eyes met I gave her a true, genuine smile which she returned, nodding. My mother and aunt Amna sat with her and I spotted Zayed’s grandmother too.
As I reached the stage, after having completed my walk down the aisle, I tried to grab the edge of my heavy dress with my left hand and my bouquet with the right one and made to ascend the few steps with a brush of hesitance. With Reem behind, the camerawoman ahead and every eye on me, I walked on the stage slowly and carefully, trying not to trip.
At length, I reached the two person chair, which was placed in the heart of the stage and sat on it. Reem took hold of the end of my dress and helped me sit, whereas Sara laid my veil on the chair in a way that made it look like I was here on a photo-shoot. After clicking many pictures, in almost every posture, I invited Reem and Sara to model with me until the guests started to arrive to meet me. My mother-in-law was the first one. Likewise most close relatives and friends got on the stage to congratulate me and shower me with their prayers.
My lips twitched into a smile when my eyes fell upon Fatima, Hissa and Latifah my friends from work. They were walking towards me when Fatima said something out loud and they all laughed, wonder what that was!
“Alf Alf Mabrook Habibti, (Congratulations dear)” Fatima came first and hugged me. I hugged her back, because she was closer to me than a colleague and meant more to me than she knew. “Rabi yes’adich. (May Allah bless you with a happy life)” She prayed when she pulled back. I thanked her with all my heart and met the other two girls with the same amount of enthusiasm.
When asked to sit and take pictures with me, they kept cracking jokes at me which was why most of the pictures didn’t come out nicely.
“You have to take your words back.” Fatima confided, smiling ear-to-ear.
“What words?” I asked, with narrowed eyes.
“Remember you once said you pity the girl who will marry Mr. Zayed.” She reminded and my smile deepened at the ‘Mister’ word. It sounded weird now.
“And if I am not wrong, you had said you would never be able to cope up with his pride.” Latifah joined in, teasingly. Sara and Laylah were close by, unfortunately, and they heard what Latifah had said.
“Mahra,” Laylah called, with a funny look. “Is what I hear true?” She came forth. I laughed a little, not knowing what to say.
“No,” I lied, shaking my head.
“You thought he was proud?” She asked again with a joyous smile. Everybody seemed be enjoying my flustered face. Even Sara, she was giggling along with the girls and didn’t help.
“Well, I won’t deny I was a little prejudice back then.” I finally said which satisfied Laylah a bit and she was about to say something when Reem joined us.
“Hamad called, asking if he could bring the groom in.” She had addressed Laylah who turned to her and then they both left to discuss the matter with the older women. Soon there was an announcement of the groom’s entrance, so that the women that wanted to cover up; could do so.
The hall had broken into action as the grooms arrival neared. The room was being perfumed again, girls looking for their Abaya’s and taking their seats and mother’s looking for their kids and holding on to them.
As for me, I was breathless, when Reem came to me and whispered a; “Get ready.” in my ear. I felt my heart sink into the pits of my stomach and came up to my throat again. She smiled, and covered my face with my veil, then took my hand and made me stand up in respect for my groom. I squeezed her hand when she was about to leave me, giving her a pleading look, asking her to not leave. Reem shook her head at what she thought was my nervousness but I felt like it was the death of me.
Taking a deep breath, I stood straight not counting the minutes or hours anymore, I was counting my heartbeats; that ran faster with every passing second. I tried to busy my thoughts with something or someone but this fraud of a heart would always go back to him. I remembered him now as if he was the only memory I had with me or maybe because he was the only one in my heart.
And so I waited for him…
-Oh fission of the moon and sweetness of the dawn that comes once in a thousand years, I wait for you here like a fetus awaits its soul to become something. Will you share your soul with me or become my soul, I cannot tell.-
Subsequently, the lights went dim and the music stopped to play another song, covering up for my loud heartbeats that were definitely going to embarrass me today. I had kept my eyes on the floor, but a glimmer of small hope made me raise my eyes slightly, and I instantly regretted doing it.
Was it my world that stopped or my heart, I didn’t know, because I had seen him, seen Zayed walking towards me with all the grace in the world, like he was the gravity that balanced this Earth, or the gravity that balanced my heart. From under my veil I saw him reaching the middle of the hall, and grab the edge of his red ghatra (Headdress) with his right hand to throw it behind his shoulder. A knot tightened in the pit of my stomach and I looked down. I knew then that even if I saw him for the thousandth time, that unfamiliar flipping of my heart would never change.
As he got closer, weird sensations passed through me, I didn’t know them, they didn’t have a name or a description but they were there.
He was too close now,
Three steps,
Two steps
And one…
I knew since I was staring down at his feet, not having the courage to look at his face although I knew that his face awoke my happiness, but I didn’t or better yet I couldn’t.
“As salaam-o-Alaikum.” He greeted. I fidgeted trying to brush off my discomfort and whispered a reply, sure he wouldn’t hear it. I hardly heard myself.
I felt him come to stand beside me and face the guests, my eyes were still down like those old brides who were overly shy. I had never imagined I’d be like them. But you never know something until you haven’t tried it. Although I think I wasn’t to be blamed, I was standing next to a man who was intimidation itself.
Then I heard a very familiar laughter and my head automatically shot up to see the most dearest person in my heart, it was Hamad. He looked at me, happiness oozing from him, and smiled. This time, I willingly returned it. My eyes moved from him to my uncle Saif who stood next to him, he was the one who had made Hamad laugh. I met his gaze and he looked sad. I wished he wasn’t seeing mother in me now. I wished my sight wasn’t that agonizing.
The photographer was disturbingly close and I hated to not hear my mother’s voice, but soon after I heard it from beside me and it did no good.
“Pick up her veil, my son.” Mom asked the man standing next to me and I froze.
‘Courage, dear heart.’
I told myself as I felt him move beside me. He made to grab the edges of my veil that came to my elbows and picked it up to reveal my face. I had my eyes down and without realizing I had come face to face with him. Something urged me to look up and when I did my eyes met his honey brown ones. They reminded me of sunsets, of autumn leaves and the desert. They were everything beautiful combined.
After seconds of looking at him, I looked down… and there my heart was gone.
What Magic was it that his eyes held? Or was it my heart that was already sold?
As Zayed saw his mother approach us, he went over to hug her and kiss her forehead. His mother bore him in her hands, the people bore him in their eyes but I, I bore him in my heart.
She came to meet me and congratulated me, I tried to answer back, hoping she’d hear me. My mother was next, followed by uncle Saif. He came to me with a smile and I knew as he pondered over his up-coming words to say to me.
“They will stop calling brides beautiful after today—you have simply set the standard too high,' he said, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Hamad came afterwards and kissed my forehead, noncommittally. I felt pure love and deep warmth in his eyes for me.
“You’ve scared our girl.” He joked turning to Zayed and everyone laughed excluding me. Zayed stole a glance at me then patted him on the shoulder and muttered something that I couldn’t hear.
As he stepped aside Umm Zayed addressed him; “Hamad, How are you my son?” she asked my brother, who reached forward to place a kiss on her head.
“Alhamdulillah Khaloo, I am fine. Mabrook.” He congratulated.
“Allah yebarak feek Habibi, ogbalak Insha Allah (Insha Allah you are next).” Hamad smiled at Umm Zayed’s comment, without replying.
Hamad held my eyes for a minute before leaving along with uncle Saif, so the rest of the function can carry on with the women. Two of my dearest men had come to bring my groom to me. I couldn’t wish for more. The happiness that I saw in Hamad and my mother’s eyes was unexplainable. At occasions my father’s memory kept crossing my brain and I wished he was here, but in life not everything could be perfect. There needed to be some missing spot somewhere.
The rest of the traditions and functions carried on and the time took a rapid turn as our takeoff from the hall to the hotel neared. We exchanged rings and cut the cake and I tried to be as careful as I could. Unlike me he didn’t seem very nervous and carried out the tasks that the groom had to do ever so calmly.
Zayed and I sat together, as the photographer kept taking pictures. He hadn’t said a word to me all this time and it wasn’t like I was waiting, besides what could he possibly say?
It was Umm Zayed who came and interrupted my thoughts, when she asked us to get up and said it was time to leave for the hotel.
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Ramadan Kareem to all our amazing followers. May u have a blesses month. Don't forget us in ur prayers.
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