Despite Blaise's open hostility, Sidra enjoyed school. She was surrounded by kids who looked up to her and felt loved in every class she went to. Hammad was doing great. He was working very hard to get promoted this time, in fact, he was looking for a Maths award this year.
It saddened her a little that the school year was coming to an end and soon her class would move on and Hammad would no longer be under her wing.
But like all mothers, she had to let go of her kids at some point.
Exams upon exams ate up the fortnight, delivering with it an abundance of paper marking and report making. Some teachers were behind schedule in handing over grade sheets which was making her quite anxious.
The library was going great too.
The crowd increased with the holidays closing in. Yet, Kevin still guarded whatever secret he was guarding and Ayaan was absent. Hafsa stayed the same; mundane talks, inside jokes and reviewing books. Sidra tested out so many new hypothesis to annoy Hafsa to within an inch of her life.
"Last one, promise. Tell me about water."
"Water? I drink water."
"You want an award for that ingenious answer? Here you go. Clap clap clap."
"You said clap with your mouth. You didn't even clap."
"Give a me worthy answer and you'll receive a standing ovation."
"Sidrathul Munthaha...I don't have an answer."
"Surprise me with your brain."
Hafsa scowled at Sidra and tried really hard to come up with an answer. Or at least acted like it.
"No, Sid. I don't have an answer that is worthy of your ovation."
"Fine. Hear me out. Water is like humans. Humans are a large percentage water anyway. Can you guess where this is going?"
"No."
"Indulge me."
"I keep telling you, I don't want to indulge you in these talks. It's beyond my capacity."
"Fine. Wet blanket. It's like this," Sidra casually leaned against the wall, "At one time, water can be inviting. Clear and calm and soothing to a troubled heart. It can quench your thirst. But then, when the time comes, it can also terrify you. It can destroy everything in its wake, lay waste to good lands and do so much damage. And let's drop the ocean and focus on other forms of water too, like the rain.
It can either bring life to earth, make things greener, fresher, nicer. Leave behind that lovely petrichor. Or, as storms, they can be just as deathly as it was lively. Even this water that we drink to quench our thirst, like it's the best thing there is. But while it sustains life it can also end it. It can drown you. Or choke you, for that matter. Still bad."
Hafsa was at loss for words. She didn't know the topic 'water' could be exploited to explain human behaviour.
Sidra seized Hafsa's thoughtful silence to continue. "But the bottom line is," she added "the more power you give something, no matter how tranquil it was earlier, it definitely does more harm than good. Too much power sucks."
This had been in Sidra's mind for a long time. She didn't know why she probed deep into ordinary things, but then she formed thoughts like this out of them and felt the need to voice it. Even if the person didn't really get it.
"Calm ocean, terrible Tsunami. Beautiful rain, deathly storms. Drinking water, can even choke you," Hafsa mused, "too much power corrupts."
Sidra straightened herself and silent clapped for her friend's conclusion. So the woman does listen to me despite claiming not to. Nice.
A soft clap startled both the girls.
"Bravo, you two. I've never heard a more intellectual conversation within these walls." That came from Musa.
Sidra relaxed. "It's you."
"And me," a voice chimed from other side of the nearest shelf. Ayaan peeked through a gap in the books.
"Many thanks, friends. But evesdropping?"
"Subhan Allah, no. I was already standing behind you when you started talking. But maybe you lost me in the shadows. And I didn't know Ayaan was there."
"Apologies. I only came looking for you people to discuss the stall. And then I heard Sidra saying Indulge me and decided not to interrupt."
The squad walked away with Musa in the lead and Ayaan coming from the next aisle and converged into the reading area to talk shop. The six member team had been cut down to four. The more obvious choices being Sidra and Musa and then Hafsa. Kevin couldn't get a day off, so Josh Parks would be joining them. Plans were drawn and Ayaan gave them directions to the venue and their particular stall. "It will have a blue flag with a gold book."
"I will check up on you guys frequently, In Sha Allah," he promised.
"Did you brief Josh?"
"Yes, Musa. I met him in the carpark."
"Oh. Okay. So, ready?"
"Ready as we'll ever be," Ayaan smiled. "It's a big undertaking for us. Fifty big team. And a few dozen stalls. How bad can things be?"
"That's the spirit."
Ayaan turned to Sidra, "You and Hafsa can operate in the cashier without unnecessary interaction, Musa and Josh will review the books. Any ladies interested can speak to you. All that is, unless you want to be up in the front."
"We'll be just fine the way you said," Sidra approved. "And JazakAllah khair for putting thought into it."
"Yeah, I was wondering how to broach the topic with you," Hafsa admitted.
"Wa anthum fa jazakumAllah khair. We look out for our own."
The carnival was on Saturday the following week until which they saw no more of Ayaan.
Sidra's alternate email received a new composition from her official one that night.
Today, as I prepare for bed, with only a few weeks of school left, I am happy to say I have lived this year. I have loved and trusted and cared and helped and received all of them in return.
It truly are the little things that decorate life. I've always believed it. Looking back on the school year, it's not the grades I achieved or the average I sent up to the office that makes me happy; it's the first smile on Hammad's face, the teary eyed thanks from Dawood, the tight hug from Gloria and the bruised knuckles Hafsa and I compared after the Opening that tilt my lips upward.
And after seventeen long years, I've received closure to my past. At four I didn't know why the teachers called me crazy or why they sequestered me from the rest of my grade. I didn't know why I had to fight for a place throughout school. Why I had to work twice as hard to prove my worth. I had no idea why the smallest reprimand drove me to steel my nerves and work to get praise out of the same mouth that belittled me.
Now I see why. All along, Allah had been preparing me to help turn around lives. To understand in ways no others do and to heal with love the scars hatred had caused. Subhan Allah, isn't it amazing? All my pain had created an empathy and a desire to reach out to outcasts and make them feel included.
I don't want to hint that I made all the changes. The people I reached out to have also broadened my perspectives and expanded my horizons. In months, I realise, my take on life has altered from the stark differences to subtle transitions. I'm not being modest. These people I've greeted and parted with, the ones that boosted me and walked on me have all contributed to writing a new chapter of my life that has given me a better insight into my abilities and allowed me to test my borders. It helped me grow as a person and find more "little things" that make me happy.
Adamancy, rage, hatred, discontent, distrust....none of us are born with them. Society births it within us.
And if you've ever had one of them grow in you, you'll spot it faster growing in someone else. And that's how superheroes are made. We get hurt and we prevent hurt. We uproot the unnecessary pain.
It's surprising how well your scars heal when you nurse someone else's.
Dear future me, it's a lesson to you. Love conquers. All the time. Perhaps it takes long, but it conquers in the end.
With love and faith,
Yourself at 21.
She emailed it to her private account that housed all the emails she had written with emotion. All the things she could never tell anyone. All the advice she would need from herself. All the reminders that her Rabb's light always shined at the end of the tunnel.