Istikhara = seeking guidance to the right decision
Note: Istikhara is a special prayer made when seeking guidance between the best of two options or in making a choice. You just pray some extra units and make a specifically worded dua, adjusting it to your situation, and it can be repeated every night until you are certain which option to choose between.
Some people say they have a dream after making this prayer. While they may have, this is not necessarily an answer to the prayer, and could even be influenced by their own preference to what they want the answer to be. An open mind is needed. Really, the answer may not be in a dream or feeling although it can be as small as just having certainty in what you want between the two options and contentment in the decision you finally make. But after making Istikhara, then after consulting people, thinking and reflecting deeply, then you must act on your choice. If you have chosen something that is not meant for you, then, of course, Allah will block it from you.
Istikhara is also not done for things which do not need to be deliberated upon, for example, something that is haraam or something that is obligatory to perform.
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Zinneera greedily gulped down her coffee, wiping stray droplets lingering on her mouth with her sleeve. This would have to do as her source of energy for the day.
Yesterday evening she made Istikhara then spent the early night awake and decided that if she and her friends were not allowed to attend the council meetings, a matter she would be finding out tomorrow, then she would leave to find an active shelter and put in the effort to fight these bandits. Not only to find her family but to stop them from wreaking havoc on the rest of Al-Hafah. She knew that if she asked Safiyya, her dear friend, sister, would agree immediately. But Zinneera did not want to endanger Maha, nor did she want to drag Ismael out of the safe city as the young woman certainly would not trust anyone else with his care, so she would have to leave them behind.
Now she eyed the knight waiting for her in the doorway to her room with apprehension, wondering if the Ameer had called upon her in order to give her the verdict before the meeting tomorrow.
"So you do not know if my friends have been called too?" She asked the knight as she followed him down the winding corridor.
"I am afraid not."
But Zinneera had her answer in a few minutes, as she arrived at the Ameer's office, Safiyya and Maha waiting outside with differing expressions on their face.
"Why so anxious Safiyya?" Amara walked toward her friend.
"Is it not obvious?"
"She thinks we are going to be executed." Maha rolled her eyes, her annoyed expression flickering to amusement for a second.
"I do not." Safiyya glared. "But nothing good can come of this for certain."
"What are you talking about?"
"We saw Hamid enter a short while ago," Maha answered, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the door.
Realisation dawned upon Zinneera and she wished she had drank another cup of coffee for some extra sustenance. Patience and self-control were expensive in regard to energy demands.
This could only mean that they had been called upon because of what happened the day before.
"I doubt anything terrible will happen." She mused. "Perhaps the worst he will do is throw us out the city. Although at this point, I think that is not necessarily a bad thing."
"Or," Safiyya stressed. "We will be locked up again."
"At least we would not have to see any of their cheery dispositions from down there." Maha eyed the closed door of the office as she spoke.
It suddenly opened and a knight stepped out.
"You may enter."
The office was rather unimpressive. However, it was quite a walk to the desk where the Ameer sat. Around them were rows of dark oak shelves filled with stacks of paper and stray quills. It hardly looked decently arranged. Although a mess, perhaps it was an organised one.
The sight of the Ameer behind his desk, his shadow, alternatively called Hamid, looming beside him made for a rather foreboding atmosphere.
Rather ruined by the sight of Khalil lounging on a chair at the left side of the room, flicking through dark yellow pages with utter uninterest in what was happening around him.
"Please sit ladies." The Ameer gestured towards the other side of his desk where three chairs awaited.
Zinneera grumbled quietly as she followed his instructions. Certainly, Hamid must have gone and cried to the Ameer in regards to what happened in the market. And no doubt the Ameer knew already which side he was on.
"I have been alerted of a commotion, or rather, a quarrel that occurred between yourselves and Hamid here."
"I would not go so far as to call it a quarrel," Zinneera fought hard to keep her tone respectful. "More of a misunderstanding."
"Is that so? What was misunderstood between the two of you?"
"A young boy was playing a game with me and he took my ring. Unfor-he happened to bump into Hamid who thought he was stealing."
"And you believe this gave you the right to lecture Hamid on the law and its punishments?"
A stupefied noise came from the back of Maha's throat and Zinneera wondered how stupid people often ended up in power. Maybe she would have to do research on it as one would study the insane. How far does stupidity go? Is there a threshold? A greatest level one could achieve? And do those on the upper levels qualify as leaders?
"We were merely protecting a young boy," Zinneera replied, seeming to take on the role of answering the questions amongst her friends, one of whom seemed to be on the verge of laughing in shock, the other lost in their confusion of the situation. "Something he seems incapable of."
The Ameer's eyebrows jumped before his eyes darkened with outrage.
"Before we lock her up again," A voice called out from the left. "I do have a few words to add Father."
Five heads turned to face Ibn-al-Ameer who still had not looked up from his papers.
"I will hear what you have to say," The leader of Al-Amin sent a deadly glance to Zinneera. "Only so it will not be said that I am unjust."
Khalil sat straight, ignoring the eyes of everyone except his father. "I will admit I was not present to see Hamid and our guests speak. But I witnessed the aftermath. I watched a little boy, only a few years of age, burst into tears, terrified with the idea of losing his hand, and these three women comforted him."
"Despite what occurred," The Ameer relented. "It does not justify the completely inappropriate manner of their behaviour. There are official ways to make a complaint. Things do not work here the way they do in your village."
Zinneera decided to leave the research to those who did actually study the insane since the Ameer was clearly part of the study.
"Father, can you blame them for getting angry? Plus," Khalil returned to his original position, facing his, what must be very hypnotising, papers again. "I doubt they are aware of the official process. They are from a village as you say."
Zinneera scowled but Safiyya gripped her arm, briefly sending her a look to shut her mouth.
The Ameer seemed to ponder over this, sending a displeased look to the women as he stroked his beard before he sighed.
"Hamid, do you find this pardonable?"
"Of course Ameer. I can appreciate the reaction to my rather harsh position on the matter which is unforgivable, but I can see there may have been some ignorance on their part." Hamid leaned against the wall, scrutinising the women and now it was clear to Zinneera that his silver tongue is what kept him so close to the Ameer; like a ring wrapped around his finger. "This is of course, pardonable. I have no qualms in letting them go. Unless you wish to keep them for their...thoughtless words."
He meant Zinneera's disrespectful reply. She knew if she rolled her eyes she would certainly spend the night in the dungeon so settled for pursing her lips and trying to place an innocent expression on her face.
It must have worked as after the Ameer eyed them for a few seconds he nodded.
"You must work on controlling your emotions, that is for certain." Zinneera thought he sent her a dirty look. "But you are our guests that do not know any better. You may leave."
Could blood bubble in one's body? Maybe. If anyone were the perfect test subject, it was Zinneera, who clenched her fists as she made her way to the door and left the sucking up to Safiyya who thanked the Ameer, and even Hamid as they escaped the room.
"What do you eat in the mornings?" Maha asked Safiyya once the door had shut behind them. "Patience? Self control? Please share whatever it is because I was a few seconds away from throwing something at the Ameer's head."
As if daring him to make a complaint (the official way) Maha glared at the guard they passed who in all likelihood would have heard her words as they slowly made their way back to the corridor with their rooms.
"I cannot believe what just happened." Safiyya shook her head. "Am I dreaming? Ow! Maha!"
"Well, you are not."
"I want to leave this city." Zinneera frowned. "Do you suppose there is an official way for that too?"
"Indeed." A voice said from behind them.
The three women whirled around to see Khalil behind them and he raised an eyebrow.
"You are blocking my way."
"It is because we are from a village." Zinneera retorted. "We are unaware of the correct ways of walking through the halls of such a large house."
Khalil narrowed his eyes. "If this is gratitude I know not to help you next time."
"Next time?" Maha asked. Then she looked towards Zinneera who was glaring at the man. "Never mind."
"Thank you Ibn-al-Ameer." Safiyya elbowed Zinneera in the ribs. "We know that your choice of words softened your father's resolve."
"Perhaps you do. Perhaps she does not." Khalil looked at Zinneera pointedly. "I knew you to be reckless, but not that reckless. It would be wise to learn to control your mouth."
"My mouth may as well be shackled at this point." She rolled her eyes in response. "I cannot condemn a man who takes joy in threatening children and neither can I condemn the man who defends him. What shall I speak of then? Gossip?"
"If it keeps you out of trouble." Khalil strode forwards and the girls automatically parted to let him through. "Or maybe I should have kept quiet. Perhaps if you spend long enough in the dungeon it will teach you some control."
Zinneera grabbed the handle of her sword, clenching it tightly and biting the inside of her cheek. She supposed yelling at Hamid was one thing, and baring her sword to the Ameer's son was another.
"You cannot seriously believe we are in the wrong?" She said instead.
Khalil paused further down the corridor.
"What I believe, what you believe does not hold any value against the Ameer. And whatever you may think of that, it is how it is. So losing your temper and fighting with passion will do nothing for you here."
And then he disappeared around the corner.
Zinneera gasped, choking on water that had managed to slip down her throat. It took her a few moments, still rather dazed from sleep and her rough awakening, before she managed to discern her two brothers cackling with great pleasure in front of her bed. She growled and leapt off her bed towards her brothers who immediately stopped laughing and ran out of her room in a matter of seconds.
"Bilal! Muhammad!" She yelled out after them, menace in her voice. "You will regret your actions!"
She charged after them, not seeing where Bilal had disappeared to, but keeping her eye on Muhammad. Zinneera noticed Khadijah turn a corner in front of Muhammad and her eyes widened, preparing to yell at him to stop. Khadijah's little mouth widened with shock and terror as Muhammad did not halt nor slow down, but leaned down and grab his youngest sister, taking off with her in his arms.
Zinneera smiled at Khadijah's cheering and laughter but remembered her intent and scowled, sprinting faster. Muhammad ran out to the backyard, likely seeking his mother's protection and Zinneera pressed forward, target in sight, when large arms wrapped around her, yanking her backwards, and she felt the familiar embrace of her father.
"Let him go, habibit." He chuckled, staring down fondly at his daughter as she glared in the direction of the backyard, where her mother and aunts were cooking. "We should not spoil dinner with Muhammad's death."
Muhammed poked his head around the doorway, Khadijah's beside him. "It is always nice to know you have so much faith in me, Father." He piped up and Zinneera simply rolled her eyes, her aggravation washing away.
"I would have caught him." She shook her head sadly and Abu Muhammad laughed, handing Zinneera a scarf to cover herself with and pulling her towards the living area where most of the family were sitting.
"I must admit, I thought the time had finally arrived where you would end my misery for me." Maryam, Muhammad's wife, playfully sighed, smiling at Zinneera as she joined the group of women sitting together. She shrugged.
"Father stopped me. You have my condolences." They both turned to send him accusing looks but Abu Muhammad only shook his head.
"Where did Bilal manage to disappear to?" Zinneera looked around, trying to see the face of her younger brother. At that moment, the front door creaked open and a head popped around the side. Before she could say anything, her mother stormed into the house and Zinneera immediately shut her lips together.
"I saw you clamber out of the window." Umm Muhammad narrowed her eyes and Bilal smiled innocently.
"It was either climb out of the window or have Zinneera push me out of it. Surely it was for a good reason?" Bilal tried.
"You will be the last one to have dessert today."
"No!" Bilal exclaimed, whining dramatically.
"You have lived fourteen summers, Bilal. Grow up, please. Now, you will help me with Iftar (meal for breaking the fast)." His mother sighed, dragging him outside.
"Muhammad is almost twice my age and Khadijah is still more mature than him." Bilal muttered but luckily for him, his mother decided to ignore his comment. Abu Muhammad laughed at his predicament but at a look from his wife, he turned around to talk to his brother.
"How is dear Hudayfah?" Summayah- Zinneera's older sister- asked Maryam, who was absentmindedly stroking her protruding, pregnant stomach.
"Much like his father. A constant pain." Maryam answered and, as if on cue, two toddlers entered, the one in front squealing excitedly and the one chasing him with a furious look on her face.
"He stole my toy!" Arwa whined before bursting into tears and running into her mother's, Summayah's, arms. Hudayfah, in his own mother's arms, looked guiltily at his cousin and he sighed, handing her back the toy which she received with cute little sniffles.
"I am sorry Arwa." He muttered and she nodded in acceptance.
"Troublemaker." Maryam shook her head before gently tapping the tip of Hudayfah's nose. "You are lucky you apologised, little one." Hudayfah merely grinned and cuddled his mother. Then a few seconds later his eyes caught something and he cheered.
"Ali!" He ran towards his uncle who had just entered, a book in his right hand and Khadijah's hand in his left. Ali smiled down at his nephew and lifted him up then paused as he noticed Khadijah's pout. He ran his hand down her hair, whispered in her ear and she nodded, beaming, walking into the kitchen.
"My son loves his boring uncle more than his own father." Muhammad materialised beside his wife, watching Hudayfah listen intently to Ali who seemed to be explaining something in his book to him.
"Perhaps that is because Ali is more mature than you and Bilal even though he is younger than both of you." Zinneera raised an eyebrow and Muhammad scoffed, not replying. He kissed his wife on the forehead then eyed the tear-streaked face of Arwa, who was staring up at him.
"Every time I see my adorable little niece, mashaAllah, I cannot help but think of how little she resembles her mother."
Summayah scowled and threw a slipper at Muhammad and Arwa watched on with her adorable, large round eyes that matched her mother's perfectly, her equally similar nose crinkling as they began to argue.
"Your son bullied my daughter. I will have my revenge."
"Now, does that not remind you of the two of us all those years ago." Muhammad had a fake sentimental expression on his face.
"At least Hudayfah apologised to Arwa." Zinneera stared accusingly at her brother who smiled meekly.
"Sorry Amara?"
"You sound so sure of it."
"Really? Because I am not." Zinneera threw a cushion at him, trying to hide her grin as Muhammed whined.
"Must I endure everyone throwing the nearest item to them at me?!"
"It is in return for all the pain you caused your mother and I." Abu Muhammad patted his back as he walked past, stepping out to where his wife was calling for him.
"That is all I get? Seems rather unfair to them." Muhammad commented and at that, Zinneera laughed.
Her parents, aunts and Bilal joined the rest of the family. Zinneera watched her aunts, uncles, siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins and parents and smiled, content. She blinked and she was alone. Frowning, she stood up, befuddled as to what happened as the eerie silence stretched around her.
Zinneera shot up with a gasp then clasped her mouth to hide a sob so Safiyya, in the next room, would not hear her, just as she did most nights. She grasped her head, wishing that she had the ability to reverse time to when the bandits did not exist. She pushed the memory away, pleading to Allah to help her and her family before she stood up, trembling as she put on her robe, hijab and slippers. It was not long ago she had woken up to pray fajr, so now, she could see the early colours of sunrise begin to trace the sky.
The market streets were rather creepy when no one was there. It reminded Zinneera of what it had been like when she had arrived back home to find everyone gone. She walked, crying to Allah under her breath, not really paying attention to where she was heading until she found herself surrounded by unfamiliar houses. It was then she decided to turn back but as she scuffled round a corner, she almost crashed into someone. Zinneera yelped lightly, again reaching for a dagger by her waist which was not there.
"It is only me."
She looked up and did not know whether to be relieved or distressed at the sight of Ibn-al-Ameer before her.