Surah Al-Ahqaf, Verse 15:
وَوَصَّيْنَا الْإِنسَانَ بِوَالِدَيْهِ إِحْسَانًا حَمَلَتْهُ أُمُّهُ كُرْهًا وَوَضَعَتْهُ كُرْهًا وَحَمْلُهُ وَفِصَالُهُ ثَلَاثُونَ شَهْرًا حَتَّىٰ إِذَا بَلَغَ أَشُدَّهُ وَبَلَغَ أَرْبَعِينَ سَنَةً قَالَ رَبِّ أَوْزِعْنِي أَنْ أَشْكُرَ نِعْمَتَكَ الَّتِي أَنْعَمْتَ عَلَيَّ وَعَلَىٰ وَالِدَيَّ وَأَنْ أَعْمَلَ صَالِحًا تَرْضَاهُ وَأَصْلِحْ لِي فِي ذُرِّيَّتِي إِنِّي تُبْتُ إِلَيْكَ وَإِنِّي مِنَ الْمُسْلِمِينَ
And We have enjoined on man doing of good to his parents; with trouble did his mother bear him and with trouble did she bring him forth; and the bearing of him and the weaning of him was thirty months; until when he attains his maturity and reaches forty years, he says: My Lord! grant me that I may give thanks for Thy favor which Thou hast bestowed on me and on my parents, and that I may do good which pleases Thee and do good to me in respect of my offspring; surely I turn to Thee, and surely I am of those who submit.
(English - Shakir)
via iQuran
ΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔ
Δ Hadiyah Δ
I came back from the university and threw my bag away, it felt so heavy from the many notes Sir Aamir had given. Why can't he just compile the notes and give us a book all at once. How bothersome. I picked up my bottle, and filled it up with cold water from the dispenser.
I gulped it all down, not bothering to sit. The cold water felt extremely refreshing to my thirsty throat. Reaching for my hijab, I removed it ruthlessly, I had no patience today. I grabbed moma's brush and made a neat French twist out of my thick, red hair. My hair is red, an extremely unusual trait for a Pakistani. I got them from one of my non-Pakistani maternal ancestors. Ummi isn't a Pakistani national from birth. She's from Scotland, while dad was a Pakistani.
I glared at my phone.
~4:00 pm~
Two hours until my shift at the bakery, round the block. It's the only major source of income for us. Moma designs clothes and sells them to one of the local brands, but that doesn't yield much earning. Daddy passed away three years ago, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I have a 100% scholarship and hence we make ends meet somehow. Alhamdulillah!
"Hadiyah ," I heard ummi call.
'Yes moma?" I replied.
"Bachay(child), you don't have to go to the bakery today."
"Why, moma?," I asked.
"Hamid bhai (brother) is coming over."
Ummi starred at the floor. She knows how much I dislike Mr. Hamid Aziz. He is my so-called uncle. The older brother of my deceased father. I wrinkled my nose, pressed my lips together-real hard. I didn't want to upset my ummi. Sew your lips, respect your elders, don't talk back, don't be rude, and the list of rules goes on and on. You only have duties, no rights. Rights belong to uncle and his family alone, I and my ummi don't have any of those.
Even though Mr.H.A doesn't support us in the least; be it financially or otherwise. Ummi says, he still is our shield against the society. A guardian to the two lonely, vulnerable ladies. Since I attained puberty, ummi started stressing on his immense, invisible importance to us.
I agree with her there. The Pakistani society is no play ground for ladies. That doesn't mean I like his visits, no matter how infrequent they might be.
"Go freshen up and let's prepare some food."
"Right away Moma." I stood real straight, and saluted. Ummi laughed. I breathed more easily. Since dad passed away, I have vowed to never let my mother shed a single tear. I have always been my father's little tigress. In his last days he made me promise that I would look after his 'Safwa' for him. Ummi has such a beautiful name Ma shaa Allah!
I had given him my word. Alhamdulillah, I have been true to it to this day! I ran into my room, took a quick bath and changed into a pink shalwar kameez. It's a bit ostentatious, but he is my mahram so it doesn't make a difference. Taking hold of my necklace, I clasped it on. It's so delicate, the only gold necklace I own.
Mr.H.A likes daughters to have some gold on when he comes to visit. I don't mind wearing gold, but to please him? I would have never done so had Ummi not instructed me. My phone beeped, it was a message from him.
Uncle: I have started.
Me: Okay, uncle.
Uncle: Wear your Abbaya and pack some clothes.
Me: But why, uncle?
Uncle: Just do it.
Me: Okay, uncle.
I did as I was told, knowing that Ummi would have said the same thing. In ten minutes I stood beside Ummi, our bags all packed and my abbaya covering my shalwar kameez. He arrived at the exact time-five pm. He is punctual, one trait that I wholeheartedly respect. We had lunch together and then left for his house.
It is in complete contrast to our humble, two- roomed, tiny house. It stands tall, with its eleven rooms. It is a shame to call it a house, it's more like a mansion. We stepped inside, Aunty Safia (his wife) welcomed us. She's a good person, doesn't mind us coming over to visit or live in her house. It's too big, it's a waste if any rooms remain unused; as she puts it.
I wondered why he had brought us over. Aunty had a little enigmatic air about her as well. What is he up to, I wondered as I made my way towards my cousin's room. She enveloped me in a hug as soon as she saw me. She's three years younger than me. I'm nineteen, while she's sixteen.
Arfa has jet black, thick hair. That reach down to her elbows. It's a real pleasure, styling them in different ways. French braid looks best on her hair. She has almond shaped eyes, with steely-greyish pupils. Wallahi she's a beauty, Ma shaa Allah!! She doesn't wear a hijab, despite my best attempts to convince her. Uncle doesn't mind, all he wants is her to have dupatta on her head.
"Hadiyah baji (older sis) I've missed you so much!,"
"I've missed you too, Jan."
I kissed her forehead and she lied down, placing her head onto my lap. I stroked her head lovingly, enjoying the feel of her thick silky hair, as I ran my fingers through it. She is an only child, much like myself. We go to the same institution, and so we are a source of security and strength for each other. Nobody messes around with me for she's always there to defend me.
Once a student ridiculed my hijab. I didn't mind, but Arfa had a physical fight with the unfortunate being and got detention for it. She could have been expelled if I hadn't gotten there to stop her just in time. I scolded her of course! That only helped encourage her more! Wallahi my darling is one of a kind!
"Baji, I want to apply henna onto your hands."
"Sure do whatever you want, cupcake.", I smiled at her and rubbed my nose against hers. She giggled and started tickling me.
"Jan stop it! Oh please do stop!!"
I pleaded in between my giggling. She's one talented tickler. She tickled the air out of me and ran out of the room. I wanted to get revenge on her, so followed her like a mad woman. Seriously, I'm sure I looked like one with my hair open to the last strand, having it's way all over my back.
"Arfayyyy! You devilish woman, show yourself!"
I screamed her name, as I found myself in the safe part of the Aziz house. Uncle's room was far away, far enough to put me at my ease. Not that I feared him, I feared that I'd not be able to control my unruly tongue and somehow hurt ummi in the process.
"Arfayy I'm warning you, if you don't come out right now, I won't let you put henna on my hands."
I sang the last part of my threat. I just did, with Arfay all is cool, she puts me at my ease. She continued to hide as I felt the chilly night air snake it's way in through the slightly ajar windows. It hugged my body, making me shake. I went towards the windows and stood on my toes, closed it and turned. I almost had a heart attack when I heard one of the doors being opened. It was such a creepy sound in the otherwise quiet hallway.
The dim, middle light of the chandelier lit the room inadequately. I heard footsteps, reaching for my hijab I found it to be absent, nor did I have my dupatta on me. Uncle's house is like a modern-day harem, we move around in the house with no dupatta on. Right then I felt uneasy and soon my fears were proved true as I heard a male voice. I almost fainted. Ya Allah protect me, I prayed with all my heart.
"Arfa!" I heard the same male voice again. It reflected no harshness, Arfa's name was uttered with loving tenderness. I felt someone grab me by my shoulders. I felt extremely scared. I dared not look back, fearing the worst.
My imagination became a great burden as it presented the worst possible scenarios to my already scared heart. I could hear my breathing. It was so labored that I feared it might stop. Reciting Ayat-Al-Kursi, I prayed for the fiendish hands, gripping at my shoulders to disappear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TO BE CONTINUED<3<3
A/N :
It's 11:20 pm and Api's like if U don't sleep nOw u'll sleep during the classes kal!(tomorrow!)
So yeah the first chappy is all done<3
Plz comment
Vote
N
Add 2 yr reading list<3<3
Plus how do u guys like da length of da chap? Want a longer one? Or a shorter one? Do lemme know In shaa Allah!!
I'll dedicate the next chappy 2 da person who'll give me da best comment, In shaa Allah!!
Until next time,
Allahafiz!
Sars n Hania
XOXO
XXX