Part 30 – A love
"They (your wives) are a covering for you, and you too are a covering for them."
~ Surah Baqarah, verse 187.
Before Zaakir and Maleeha had realised, Ramadhaan crept up on them and a few days after Eid-Ul-Fitr, would be their one-year anniversary. For weeks before Ramadhaan began, Maleeha was constantly awake until late at night preparing savouries for her family. Zaakir had insisted that he would happily buy her whatever savouries that she wanted or craved, and if it were not available, he would have someone make them, although his stubborn wife had ignored him and continued in her preparations.
Despite his insistence at having someone else make them, Zaakir had over-indulged in them one evening when Maleeha had offered him a tasting platter. The heavenly smelling savouries coupled with three kinds of dips and chutneys made his mouth water as they sat down to sample.
"These are chicken jalapeno, chicken and mushroom, savoury and saucy chicken, spinach, feta and chicken quiche, then, these are pepper steak, peri-peri steak and lastly, pepperdew steak." Maleeha sat down next to Zaair, her knees brushing against his as she slid her feet underneath the table, and then pointed out the variety of fillings for Zaakir. The glass tray was packed with two of each kind of savoury; moons, samoosas, pies, quiches, and other oddly folded and shaped savouries.
Zaakir stared at the tray in complete bewilderment. Maleeha hadn't just made savouries. She had completely outdone herself. The "simple" platter was decorated as if it were meant for a corporate function and not just husband and wife to enjoy an early evening snack with tea. There were leaves of lettuce underneath the pies and samoosas, pearls of different kinds of her homemade savoury dip serves as a barrier between each of her fillings, which coincidentally ended up matching well with the amalgamation of fried food.
"Maleeha!" His wide-eyed stare worried her. "It looks amazing! I can't wait to taste it!"
Seeing her blush, he smiled and reached for one of her quiches. "Come here," he murmured softly as he looked at her with a gentle smile. When she didn't move, Zaakir leaned forward and brushed her hair away from her face with the back of his hand and brought up the quiche to her mouth. "Bite," he commanded kindly.
Maleeha's brown eyes grew wider comically and her jaw dropped at his request. Zaakir knew that she was shocked. It was not something that he had ever done before, but when he overheard one of the managers telling another co-worker the kind of impact it had on their marriage, Zaakir knew that he wanted to try it out.
Flustered, Maleeha shook her head shyly. She couldn't imagine being fed by her husband – especially since she wasn't sick at all. "I can't," she mumbled as she lowered her eyes to her hands resting on her lap.
Zaakir lifted the cooling quiche higher to her lips and with the pad of his thumb, he brushed it over her lower lip. "You can, love, you can let me feed you." His husky tone made her compliant as she nodded and opened her mouth, just wide enough to take a bite. "Just..." he paused uncertainly and then bent his head so he could press a light, chaste kiss to her forehead. "Just let me take care of you, my love."
Ever so lightly, he pushed the quiche against her teeth and waited until she bit into it. Zaakir watched as she closed her eyes after she bit the quiche, leaned back and smiled as she chewed. He was surprised to find out that the manager was correct.
There was some kind of ego boosting pride when watching your wife smile because you thought of her needs above yours. There was a sense of fulfilment at seeing your wife eat before you do. It was one of the smallest ways to take care of your wife.
For Zaakir, it filled him with happiness seeing her eat before he could, knowing that he was able to be certain that he fed her out of love, not obligation. He realised belatedly, that there was satisfaction in knowing that the sincerity of the act outweighed the actual act.
There truly were blessings in marriage and for Zaakir Ahmed, one of them was his wife. The wife who seemed to have calmed down in the months since their marriage. His wife who had stubbornly made all their Ramadhaan preparations and yet she could not sit still. "Maleeha!" he sighed warily as he simultaneously bit into the quiche and used his free hand to place a firm grip on her bouncing leg beside him. "Please be still. Please stop bouncing your leg in an agitated manner."
She cringed and he felt guilty at the uncomfortable look on her face. "I'm sorry, Zaakir. I'm just really nervous about what you think of the savouries. I mean, I've been making them for years for my family, but I never really stopped once and thought about what kinds of savouries you might like. I'm just so used to making the fillings my family likes, that I never asked you if you had a favourite kind of filling. I really only asked you about what type of savouries you wanted."
With raised eyebrows, he sat back and watched as she rambled on about not being considerate about the kind of food he would like to eat while they fasted, but Zaakir kept quiet and continued to eat the savouries she set out.
"Okay, okay," he intervened as he pressed another feather light kiss to her cheek. "Calm down, love," he soothed as he took her hands in his and gestured with his chin to the almost empty tray. "Look at that. Does that look like I don't like the food?"
Her head turned slightly away from him and her soft, silky hair tickled his fingers that were cradling her cheeks. When she smiled at him shyly, Zaakir felt his heart fly away and unconsciously he mirrored her. "I love you, Maleeha, and that means supporting you through everything. I will eat whatever you make, I will drink anything that you made. Except mud cakes." He grinned devilishly. "I think that is one thing that you can't make yummy. Mine will always be better."
She shook her head and leaned her forehead against his, savouring the feel of his skin on hers. The softness of his skin soothed her warring emotions and calmed her fears. "You're too sweet for your own good," she mumbled against his skin, her lips branding his forehead as she spoke.
He chuckled lightly. "Only for you, my wife."
"But I have to disagree. I think that I really do make some amazing mud cakes!"
"In your dreams, yes."
"Ha!" she scoffed. "You're so mean!"
"No, I am not! You are the one who is so mean to me!"
"Zaakir!" she whined.
"Maleeha!" he mocked and then kissed her sweetly. "Are you calmer now?"
She pulled back with a tender smile. "Thank you."
"I'll always be here for you," he promised as he interlaced their fingers together.
*_*_*_*
The couple spent their last few days before Ramadhaan planning out their schedules so that nothing could get in their way of their ibaadah. Zaakir had ensured that all females could leave the office before 15:00 so that they were able to be at home and prepare the food during the holy month. As the time neared, Zaakir had sent out an official email stating that should anyone require to work from home, he would allow it if he was notified timeously. It was one of his ways to make life easier for everyone who worked in his company. He wanted to become someone who was known for his generosity and thoughtfulness, not for being a cruel dictator.
As Ramadhaan rolled about, Zaakir and Maleeha found themselves adjusting into a new routine and a new pattern. Every morning they would wake up for Tahajjud, then read Quraan, have their sehri with 7 dates and a sip of zamzam along with their cereal and coffees, then perform their fajr salaah and read Quraan again. Maleeha endeavoured to read at least half a juz each morning before officially beginning her day so that when she was not able to fast, her completion of the Quraan would not hamper her success. After salaah, they would take a quick nap before getting ready for work.
They would then spend the day as work dictated and demanded, but Zaakir made sure that Maleeha was sent home by 15:00 every single day. His consideration to their meal preparation also left her – as well as every other woman who went home early – with enough time to complete a meal with dessert as well as time to sit down and spend time in ibadaah.
Zaakir would go and break his fast at the masjid closest to their house Maghrib time while Maleeha broke her fast with three dates and zamzam water and two or three samoosas, or whichever of the savouries she made and then she would go and perform her Maghrib salaah. and then come home immediately after where he would greet Maleeha with a quick kiss before going to wash his hands and take off his blazer and tie.
As the end of the first week of Ramadhaan neared, Maleeha and Zaakir argued about sending his parents a parcel of savouries weekly. Maleeha felt that it was the right thing to do and that it was their duty to fulfil, however, Zaakir argued that his mother still had a few of his younger siblings in the house who would readily and happily prepare meals for them and therefore to him it was unnecessary. He felt that it would be more prudent to send food to her family because they were a single couple once again with no child in the house to rely upon. He tried to point out that despite the fact that her mother's health had improve with all thanks to Allah, the matter of fact was that her mother was still weak as she was acclimating to taking and living dependent on injections that she had to receive daily.
"Fine!" he relented as he threw his hands up and angrily turned on his heel. "You know what? I give up arguing with you. You're just too stubborn. Since you won't listen to me, no one will get anything!"
Fire raged in her veins as it licked a fiery path up and curled and settled around her heart. Quick rebuttals and remarks came to her mind to continue arguing her case, but despite the rage within her, Maleeha sank on to the nearest chair. She wanted to look after her in-laws, she wanted to feed them because she was able to, she wanted them to all have a strong bond. All fight had left her at his harsh tone. They were fasting, and they were fighting instead of making peace. That was not the spirit of Ramadhaan.They were supposed to be calmer and mending relationships and being the bigger person, not ripping themselves apart by fighting with each other. Quietly, Maleeha stared at Zaakir's tall form.
He looked exhausted. His broad shoulders were hunched forward as if he were burdened with the stress of the world. As he slumped on the sofa, she could see the way his hair fell forward around the hand that pinched the bridge of his nose. One hand went to his hair and he pulled on it irritably.
"I'm sorry, Zaakir," Maleeha said loudly enough for him to hear. "I'm sorry for being stubborn, but you know that it is the right thing to do. It is our duty to look after our parents, to do for them to just try and repay back what they did for us. And on top of that, you know the reward that we get for feeding a fasting person." She let out a deep sigh. "I'm really sorry, Zaakir, but this isn't the right way."
Despite her soft and non-confrontational tone, Zaakir snapped his head to glare at her. "And you know the right way? Huh? Is it because you know everything? Is it the right thing to do because you said so?" he hissed out nastily before turning his head in the opposite direction. He grabbed his laptop roughly and pulled it into his lap as he curled his legs underneath him and ignored her.
Maleeha felt as if it were a physical blow to her chest instead of a verbal blow. Her eyes widened automatically, and she stood up. Subconsciously, she fixed her hair and nodded to Zaakir, despite him not even looking at her. Biting the corner of her lip, she felt her heart break with his cold and harsh words and knew that for the moment, there was nothing more that she could do.
With an aching heart, she walked with a lead step to their en-suite and made wudhu before covering herself up and reading her nafl salaah, anything to make her heart hurt less than it already was. On her soft, beautiful musallah, she cried as she stood and read Surah Fatiha because of how Zaakir was intentionally hurtful towards her, because of how she tried to be calm and point out the rationality of helping his parents, but instead she found only pain. hurt. Anger, that she didn't want to hold on to.
While making dua, part of her wondered if Zaakir wasn't hungry, which in turn made him grumpy and crabby and too short-tempered to think things through. Maleeha stayed on the musallah switching between reading Quraan and making Zikr until it was time for her to go into the kitchen and prepare the food for their iftar.
To her surprise, she found Zaakir already in the kitchen preparing something. His back was facing her, which gave her ample time to marvel over his body's natural contours as his muscles moved vigorously as he beat something in a metal bowl. She could hear the clashing sound of the whisk continuously hitting as his arms moved in a circular motion. His tall frame was bent over as he studiously focused on his task.
"Is there something that you wanted in particular, Zaakir?" Maleeha asked softly as she walked further into the kitchen.
Shocked at the sound of her voice, Maleeha hid a smile as Zaakir jumped causing the whisk to drop to the floor. Nervously, he turned around and looked at Maleeha guiltily. "Uh, no, thank you," he said as he gave her a watery smile.
His almond shaped eyes constantly flickered between the floor and her face, as if he wanted to say more but didn't know how. Hesitantly, he picked up the fallen whisk and placed it on the table counter.
Zaakir felt the heaviness settle on his heart the minute Maleeha walked out of the room and left him alone. However, he knew that he would never be able to tell that to Maleeha. He loved her with every single fibre and nerve ending in his body. Without her in his life, he knew he would be just an empty shell of who he could be. In less than a year, she had turned into the focal point of his world, without her, there was no him. He could no longer picture his life without her annoying him.
She was everything important in this world, and more. She was more than just his wife, Maleeha was his best friend, she was his soul mate, his love, his life and light.
And yet, he lacked the words to tell her how he felt about her.
"Zaakir," she called softly. "Did you want anything in particular for iftar tonight?" she prodded once again. Hoping not to upset him and set him off once again, Maleeha kept her tone soft, unassuming, gentle and non-confrontational.
He turned around as he scratched his neck with three fingers. "Uh, no," he paused, stretching the silence between them like an elastic band. "Maleeha –"
"Then –"
He smiled at her and gestured with a wave of his wrist to continue. "You first," he said kindly.
The weight that had anchored Maleeha down earlier, instantly felt feather light at his softer tone and smiled at him. "I just wanted to know if you were upset that you were in the kitchen. I just wanted to know why you were busy with the whisk. Why you were in the kitchen if we still have just over an hour to go?"
Worried that she might cause a monster to erupt, Maleeha stared at Zaakir intently waiting for some signal. However, Zaakir merely relaxed against the counter table as he crossed one ankle over the other and crossed his arms over his broad chest, popping muscles against his shirt. "Actually, I was hoping to surprise you," he admitted bashfully as he lowered his head to study the brown boots he wore with his blue jeans. He then twisted on his heel and gave her the big metallic bowl. "It was supposed to be our post-Taraweeh dessert. I made your favourite chocolate mousse and I was going to finish it with some sweetened mixed berries and a nice serving of whipped cream."
Maleeha's jaw fell open. In seconds, she closed the gap between them and hugged her husband. Her thin arms wound themselves like vice grips around his waist as she buried her face in his mammoth chest. "Oh, Zaakir! That is so, so, so incredibly sweet! I can't believe you did that for us! May Allah reward you abundantly! I love you, so much!"
Surprised by her outburst, but happy with it, Zaakir wrapped his arms around her body and kept her firmly against his frame and snuggled his face into the top of her head despite his broad smile.
"I love you more, my love. I'm sorry that I snapped at you earlier." He pressed a light kiss into her hair. "We won't send food over to either of our parents," he whispered as Maleeha tensed in his arms. He smirked. "Instead, we will invite them over."
AN: Never has a chapter made me want to pull out my hair and my teeth and my brain. I had a plan for this chapter, a title and an idea of what this chapter is supposed to lead to. Unfortunately, Zaakir and Maleeha had their own plans. Either way, I hope you enjoy this short chapter.
To @thee_moment this is your (really, really) belated eidi! I hope you enjoy this!
Much love,
N