Dil Ki Jald Baazi
Hastiness Of The Heart.
خُلِقَ الۡاِنۡسَانُ مِنۡ عَجَلٍؕ سَاُورِيۡكُمۡ اٰيٰتِىۡ فَلَا تَسۡتَعۡجِلُوۡنِ
Man is made of haste. I shall show you My signs, so do not seek haste from Me.
- Ma'riful Quraan.
(Surah 21-Al-Ambiyaa-Aaya 37)
* * *
Haste is undesirable. (Man is made of haste. - 21:37). عَجَل ('ajal) means haste or hurry. The word is used in situations when one desires things to happen before their time, and this trait is bad by its very nature. In another place also the word is used to denote human weakness. For instance وَكَانَ الْإِنسَانُ عَجُولًا i.e. Man is prone to haste - meaning that he is very impatient.
When Sayyidna Musa (علیہ السلام) went to the mount Tur in a hurry leaving his people behind, he was censured by Allah Ta'ala.
Prophets (علیہم السلام) and the devout people who try to excel each other in the performance of righteous deeds have been commended and their zeal to do good deeds does not constitute haste and hurry because they do not try to do these deeds before their time. In fact they do the deeds on time, but try to excel each other in quantity and quality.
Here خُلِقَ الْإِنسَانُ مِنْ عَجَلٍ (Man is made of haste - 21:37) means that haste and hurry is one of the many weaknesses which are inherent in human nature. When a man is identified by some intrinsic trait of his character, Arabs used to say that he is 'made of that trait. For instance a short tempered man would be called a 'man made of anger'.
Daanyal, closed the Ma'riful Quraan; one of his favorite tafseer kitaabs. Guilt clawed at his heart.
He had decided to open up to a random page, and he felt as if Allaah سبحانه وتعالى inspired him to open up to this specific page to reprimand him regarding his hasty remarks and angry taunts directed to his wife. It was as if Allaah سبحانه وتعالى wanted to remind him not to be hasty in judging the current situation and to deal with this in a cool, calm and composed manner.
How Merciful is Allaah سبحانه وتعالى! Sometimes, He gives us the most subtle reminders, and directs us back to the striaght path. Allaah سبحانه وتعالى never leaves us in the dark, He never abandons us, He never leaves us to drown in despair. It is us human beings that fail to see these signs of Allaah سبحانه وتعالى, it is us that do not take heed from the subtle reminders and remain unbothered by the apparent signs of Allaah سبحانه وتعالى's anger. We choose the path of darkness and refuse to tread the path of light.
He really had to apologize didn't he? He was in the wrong, wasn't he?
Why is it always so easy to pierce arrows with your tongue and wound another's heart while angry and when the guilt kicks in, so difficult to soothe their heart with a balm of apology?
Perhaps it is your pride that stops you. Perhaps you're too embarrassed to admit you were in the wrong. Perhaps you don't like to admit defeat, perhaps you feel humiliated when reality kicks in. Perhaps you just keep giving in to the whisperings of shaytaan.
Whatever the reason may be, an apology is of utmost importance. Many times in life, you have to humble yourself and admit when you're in the wrong, no matter how embarrassed you are, no matter how hard it is on your nafs, no matter how humiliating it feels. This is one of many ways of beautifying your character.
Haste is from Shaytaan, procrastination is also from shaytaan, you have to learn how to find the balance between the two.
Daanyal blew out a breath as he placed the kitaab on the shelf, alongside the other Islamic kitaaabs.
He had to apologise to Naailah.
His way of apologizing.
Flowers, roses & chocolates were not really his thing, that was Waqaas's speciality.
Waqaas...
The thought of his brother left a bitter taste in his mouth. They were always different. Their differences stemmed from their days of childhood. Even as kids they could never see eye to eye.
Waqaas was like the sun, his searing personality sometimes too overwhelming to bear. Yet, at the same time, he brightened any home with his jovial persona. Like how people awaited the view of sunrise, despite knowing that some days would have to pass in smoldering heat, they were always keen to meet him, despite his reckless and stubborn behavior. Like how poeple admired the sunset, yet, felt sad that a good day had terminated. They admired him for never leaving without lighting up a smile on each and every person's face and felt sad that they would have to bid farewell to such a bright & jolly person.
Daanyal was like the moon. Daunting, with a cold persona, yet beautiful. Like the moon, he never shone as bright as the sun, yet people still amdired his personality. For both, the moon and the sun are beautiful in their respective ways.
Like the moon in many different forms, Daanyal too had different sides to him, some that he was comfortable expressing only to near and dear ones, and others that was for anyone out of that category. He was careful, and at times meticulous and reserved. Like a full moon on the fourteenth night, people were awed by the beauty of his character.
Like the sun and the moon, even though both were so different from each other, they still needed each other to function with precision. They were brothers after all, no matter how many differences they had, they would always have each others backs.
Perhaps he should confront Waqaas with a cool mind and try and settle whatever it is that was causing Waqaas to behave the way he did. He needed to clear the air and if need be, he might have to speed up his preparations for moving out of this house!
With a firm resolution to mend all that had been broken for the past few days, he walked out with his head held high and his intentions pure.
He wouldn't let everything come crashing down and prolong until there was no hope to amend.
Often we prolong and procrastinate amendments that need to be made, to such an extent that things turn ugly & bitter and there's no longer room for any apology or explanations. Eventually, even if we do sort out our differences, the atmosphere of awkwardness & uncertainty still lingers like a bitter aftertaste.
Before he returned to his room, he headed in the direction of Waqaas's room. As he knocked on the door, he blew a breath chanting the Hadeeth in his mind that we often overlook when angry.
ليس الشديد بصرعة ولاكن الشديد الذى يملك نفسه عند الغضب
The strong person is not the one who wrestles, infact the strong person is the one who controls himself when he is angry.
Waqaas opened the door with messy hair and droopy eyes.
When he adjusted to reality, he gulped when he saw Daanyal infront of him.
It was no lie that he was afraid of his older brother's anger, infact that was a mild way of putting it.
He was extremely terrified. Right now he felt like he went back in time and had to face the wrath of his father when he was caught smoking with his friends.
"We need to talk."
Daanyal uttered in a calm, yet dangerously low voice.
Waqaas looked away from him, not for once meeting his eyes.
"Not now, I'm not in a mood for a lecture."
Waqaas closed the door, but Daanyal was in no mood for his temper tantrums. He wedged his foot between the door and door frame.
"I said we need to talk, now!"
Waqaas's blood rose to his face, painting his cheeks with anger.
"I said I'm not in the mood!"
Daanyal moved his foot away and the door closed with a click.
"I'll have to just speak to Abba and ask him to investigate what the hell was going on!"
Daanyal lost his cool, even though he kept telling himself not to.
Controlling your anger is just so much easier said than done!
When Waqaas heard his father's name his heart sank, he opened the door immediately.
Daanyal was enough, he already made such a huge slip up by being reckless while Daanyal was home.
He didn't need his father to know about his love for Naailah. He knew him well, he would get him married to Manaal or any girl he could find tonight and send him off somewhere far away from South Africa.
"What do you want to know."
He folded his arms in a defiant manner.
"I think it would be better if we talk inside with the door closed, we don't want my wife to hear any of this."
Daanyal emphasized.
Waqaas curled his hand into a fist and resisted the urge of punching him. Nevertheless, he stepped aside and closed the door after Daanyal entered.
Daanyal faced him, a serious look on his face.
"Okay tell me was that whole incident really what I thought it was, or was I hallucinating?"
Waqaas remained silent for a few seconds, then replied in a disinterested tone.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Daanyal frowned.
"Really? You were never so dimwitted and dense, you could understand insinuations very well!"
Waqaas took a step forward, his left eyebrow twitched with anger.
"Why the hell don't you just be straightforward and stop beating around the Bush!"
Daanyal lunged forward & fisted his t-shirt.
"Watch your tone Waqaas! I'm trying to speak to you in a decent manner, I am the one who should be upset with you for interfering with my wife! Not the other way around!"
Waqaas pushed him back with force, causing Daanyal to lose his balance and knock over a few files on Waqaas's desk.
Daanyal's gaze fell on one particular brown, leather bound file. He could only see a small portion of the picture, but it was enough for him to recognize who it was.
When Waqaas saw the direction of his gaze he lunged towards the file, but Daanyal was too fast for him. He grabbed the file with speed and bolted out of the room and into his own room, locking the door behind him.
Naailah was fast asleep, the duvet pooled at her waist, and her hand rested on her stomach, as if trying to protect their little progeny from the evil of the world.
Just as he was about to walk towards her, Waqaas knocked on the door with urgency.
"Bhai please please give me the file, please don't open it I'll give you all her pictures I promise, just please don't open the file."
All her pictures? There were pictures of other people as well?
What was going on?
Now Daanyal's worry increased further. What was his brother really doing?
He had to find out.
"I already opened it looked inside Waqaas. It's too late."
He lied.
On hearing that Waqaas hung his head in shame and practically sprinted back into his room.
Daanyal shoved the file into his pedestal draw and decided to catch some sleep before work. He would solve this whole issue after work, right now he had a terrible tension headache.
He gulped down two panados, then snuggled in beside his wife, pulling her closer to himself.
Naailah was too deeply engrossed in the world of her dreams, to register what was going on. Out of habit, unconsciously she moved closer to him.
Daanyal smiled and kissed the top of her head as he also drifted off into the world of slumber.
* * *
Awoken by dappled sunlight, Ayaaz squinted till his eyes adjusted to the slight brightness that peeked through the crack in the curtain.
He had missed fajr Salaah once again.
He sighed. Why was it so easy for us weak human beings to fall into the trap of sin, but so difficult to remain steadfast on the path of righteousness?
Jannah is surrounded by trials & difficulties. In order to attain Jannah you have to toil for it. In order to please Allaah سبحانه وتعالى you have to suppress and sacrifice your carnal desires. In order to become a practicing Muslim, you have to fall and then get up stronger every time. In order to attain the conciousness of Allaah سبحانه وتعالى you have to steer your nafs away from the whisperings and promptings of shaytaan. Nothing good comes easily, you have to work for it.
We cannot ask for Jannah, and ask others to supplicate for our guidance while we ourselves make no effort to attain guidance.
The religon comes with toil and effort. It's easy to give flowery lectures, but it's not easy to practice on those same lectures. It's easy to put up religious posts, stories and statuses, but it's not easy to live up to them. It's easy to portray yourself as a good Muslim outside of your home and comfort zone, but it's not easy to inculcate that good behavior inside of your home and your family circle. It's easy to perform a huge number of good deeds, but it's not easy to be sincere when performing them.
He was never religious, he wasn't even close to being a practicing Muslim initially. He had turned over a new leaf and made a vow to Allaah سبحانه وتعالى and himself that he would start off with a clean slate now. Hence his struggle for Fajr was real. Some days he awoke when there was still ample time to perform Tahajjud as well as fair. Some days, he awoke when there was enough time for fajr only. Some days he awoke just before the sun could rise from its resting place, and some days he woke up when the sun had already risen.
Allaah سبحانه وتعالى is still so merciful, as long as he kept trying Allaah سبحانه وتعالى would help him to attain that steadfastness one day in Shaa Allaah.
He rolled over to his left side, a slight smile tugged at his lips as the sight of his wife who created so much of distance between them that she was literally about to fall off of the bed. Her comforter covered her completely, from head to toe, not even a strand of her hair could be seen.
He shook his head.
Never could he cover his entire face while sleeping, he'd feel suffocated.
He peeked at the digital clock that hung on the wall opposite the bed.
8:32
They had better get up and freshen up. His mother served breakfast at 9 a.m sharp and she hated it when anyone of them was late for breakfast.
He was still kept in the dark regarding what transpired the day before. He wanted answers today. Problems and misunderstandings are better solved sooner than later. Else, every small issue builds up one's irritation and frustration and becomes a huge explosive volcano eventually.
After freshening up, he did his wudhu and performed his qadha of Fajr Salaah.
Once he completed his Salaah, he gently tugged the blanket off Bushra's face, revealing a head full of wild curls. Her long lashes touched the top of her cheekbones. Her mouth slightly ajar, light snores escaped her mouth. She was curled up into a tight fetus position, as if protecting herself from the shadows that lurked in her past.
Her palm was tucked beneath her left cheek. A portion of her arm was left exposed due to her sleeve crinkling up, a brownish-red mark branded her forearm. The skin was not dry and wrinkly, but the mark sure looked like it must have been a severe burn.
Ayaaz wrinkled his forehead in concern.
Did Bushra do this to herself ?
Was she suicidal?
His heart sped at the thought. She lacked self-love and dwelled too much on self-loathe.
Did the previous man in her life do this to her?
He clenched his fist at the thought. If that was the reality, he wouldn't be able to digest that very well!
A sharp knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts.
"Bhaaaai breakfast is ready."
He glanced at Bushra.
She looks so exhausted. I should rather leave her to sleep, atleast in her absence I can address the big fat elephant in the room as well...
* * *
Everyone ate in utter silence, only the occasional sips of tea and the scraping of spoons against the bowl could be heard.
Sakina glanced at Waleed nervously from time to time, trying her best to read what was going through his mind. She hadn't told him anything and she didn't plan on telling him anything unless things really went out of hand, Allaah forbid.
Waleed was never one to be oblivious, he knew that there was some tension in the air, but what he didn't know was that it involved Waqaas. He assumed the couple had some misunderstanding that needed to be resolved amongst themselves.
Daanyal squirmed inwardly under his father's scrutinizing gaze, trying his best to pretend that everything was perfectly fine.
Naailah's eyes were downcast, she picked at her food, not at all appealed by the smell of the fried egg that rested on her plate.
Waqaas tried his best not to lash out at Daanyal or break down into tears of fury and embarrassment.
Daanyal wouldn't understand, and even if he did try and explain to him he would probably not even believe him.
Faheem looked around awkwardly, not at all enjoying this rather odd and gloomy atmosphere. It was strange to have pin drop silence in their usually rowdy house.
Just as Waleed opened his mouth to ask if everything was okay, Naailah felt her mouth watering, a forewarning that she needed to throw up.
She pushed her chair back and ran to the guest bathroom.
"Daanyal beta, go after her, she hasn't eaten anything since the morning. When you vomit on an empty stomach you often feel weak after that."
He didn't need to be told twice. He rushed towards the aid of his wife, worry evident on his face.
Waqaas fisted his hand beneath the table. He clenched his teeth, his insides churning with misery and wrath.
She's carrying Daanyal's baby! That was supposed to be him running after her! She was supposed to be carrying his baby!
His very own brother let him down! His own flesh and blood let him down! They took away from him the most dearest person to him!
Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.
" I just remembered that I forgot to send an important email!"
He lied, as he got up abruptly, leaving behind his half-eaten food.
"Waqaas beta, atleast finish your breakfast!" Waleed reprimanded.
"I've lost my appetite."
Waqaas replied bitterly. He gave his father a tight-lipped smile and thundered up the stairs.
"Well, who cares! I guess there's more food for me!"
Faheem exclaimed, shoving a piece of aalu paratha in his mouth.
Waleed chuckled and Sakina scolded.
"Insaan bano! Aaram se khau."
(Become a human being, eat properly.)
Faheem grinned.
"Mama, I just got back from puphos house after so many days and you're already shouting at me!"
Sakina rolled her eyes.
"Wapas kyu aai?" (Why did you come back?) She teased.
Faheem made a circle with his thumb and forefinger.
"Itna chota sa dil hain, itna nazuk dil, Mama aap ne is Masoom dil ko tukre tukre kr diye!"
(I have such a small, delicate heart, Mama you have broken this innocent heart into tiny pieces.)
Sakina pinched both his cheeks as she pecked his forehead.
Faheem pulled away, annoyed.
"Mama please no PDA! Please don't ever do this infront of my friends! Sharam aati hain mujhe!"
(I feel embarrassed.)
Sakina slapped his arm.
"Kya sharam? Maa hu tumhari girlfriend nahi!"
(What embarrassed?I'm your mother not your girl friend!)
Faheem facepalmed.
There's no arguing with desi mothers... They will always have the last say!
* * *
Naailah clutched her stomach for the upteenth time as she threw up, emptying her already empty stomach.
Daanyal stood by the doorway with a glass of water.
He couldn't go further than that, his beloved wife chased him right out when he came in earlier.
She rinsed her mouth and washed her face. She sighed as she tried to gain her balance, her body felt weak and devoid of every ounce of energy.
She held the wall as she walked towards the door.
Daanyal held her by her arm, "here sip on some ice water, it will ease the nausea."
Naailah looked at him coldly.
"How would you know?"
He gave her a sheepish look.
" Google!"
If it was any other day she would have smiled at his cuteness and teased him about this, but this was not any ordinary day. She was mad at him, beyond mad actually, she was furious, completely infuriated!
"I can fetch my own water!"
She brushed past him, trying her best not to sway because of weakness.
Daanyal gripped her arm firmly.
"Naailah, please don't be stubborn. You even pushed me away this morning when you realised I moved you closer to me last night. You didn't say one word to me since we woke up. Naailah, I told you I'm sorry so many times. Please I can't handle this stubbornness of yours! If not for my sake, then atleast for our baby's sake have this water and eat something!"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm not starving myself because of you!" She denied.
Daanyal stepped closer, he clasped his free hand around hers.
"We may not be married for such a long time, but I know when you starve yourself because of me."
Naailah looked down, embarrassed.
" If there was no baby I would have left you starve, I'm only worried about that little insaan in there." He teased.
She giggled and sobbed simultaneously.
"You're terrible at apologising!"
He grinned. "I'll take that as apology accepted then!"
She shook her head, as she wiped her tears with her forefinger.
"Here drink up."
He lifted the glass towards her mouth.
"Let me help you up to the room, please make sure that you eat. I'm going to ask Ammi Jaan to send some food up for you. Even if it's a little bit, try and eat."
She nodded, allowing him to guide her up the stairs and into their room.
Once she was tucked into the bed, he pecked her forehead.
"Rest okay, please don't get out of this bed until you feel better. You don't need to do anything. Ammi will manage, we have helpers they know their work. You just relax and take it easy!"
She nodded and smiled faintly.
"We still need to talk things out."
"We will, later in Shaa Allaah."
He assured.
"Allaah Hafidh!"
He kissed her hand, then left the room in a hurry.
He was going to be late today!
Naailah managed to eat some marie biscuits with black tea. The grape and strawberries looked so appetizing, but she really couldn't eat more than that.
She placed the tray on the pedestal and covered the fruit with the serviette.
Her head pounded with pain, probably due to all the crying or because of delaying her meals.
She needed to apply that green balm that her mother had given her a while back.
She opened the draw and the first thing that caught her eye was a leather bound file that piqued her interest.
She took it out of the drawer right away and opened the first page.
Her mouth fell open, she flipped a few pages and then couldn't anymore.
What was this kind of file doing in Daanyal's room? In her pedestal draw? This couldn't be true! Daanyal was not that kind of a person, not at all!
Her heart sank.
How would she even approach him about this matter?
Waqaas watched from his room door as Naailah baffled over the file in her hand.
Daanyal must have forgotten to close the door after he left. Well, that was very good. Time for revenge Plan 01!
He knocked on the door that was left ajar.
"Can I come in Naailah."
She grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around her head.
She quickly shoved the file under the blanket.
"What do you want Waqaas?"
She asked sternly.
" I just need to talk!"
" I don't want to, nor need to talk to you. Please leave!"
He clenched his fist.
"Look Naailah I came to apologize, I'm really sorry. "
"Okay you're forgiven, now please leave."
Ouch that hurt. She didn't even want to hear his voice, forget see him!
"It's about the file!"
"What file?"
She asked in a shaky voice.
"The file you had in your hand."
"Are you spying on me?"
He sighed. "Your door was open, I saw it in your hand."
"Can I come in now?"
"No, say whatever you need to at the door. Neither I, nor Daanyal would like you to enter this room in your brother's absence. "
He scoffed. " You're worried ahout him, his rules and his limits, but he on the other hand breaks all rules, crosses all limits and is a two faced deceiver. That file is proof!"