"Who?" The Guard asked and I felt my hope shattering.
'Ya Allah. What will I do now? It's almost Isha—where would I go at this time of night?'
"Haadiya Ameen? I have her card here—" I began to fumble with my backpack to take out the card which Haadi had given to me 4 years ago. I knew there was a huge possibility that I might not find her by showing up at her door after so many years. But the fear of getting traced later, hindered me from contacting her beforehand.
And as I watched the guard eye the card in his hand, I began to feel my confidence and hope crumbling. Just like in the past, I felt myself beginning to doubt The One, whom I had prayed to in desperation last night.
'If I don't find Haadi then where else would I go? I ran away with nothing but hope in Allah's mercy—what if He shuns me? Where would I go? How will I survive—all alone—in this foreign land—without any support or help—'
"Oh—but she doesn't live here. Who gave you this information?" As he uttered those words the tears that I was so desperately trying to conceal, began to escape the confines of my eyes. My hold on the Quran in my grasp tightened while I turned away to hide my whimpering. Rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, I returned to meet his gaze and take the card from his hand.
'No. I won't despair of Allah's mercy anymore. If this is what He chose for me, then I am going to accept it as His decree. He knows what's in my heart and how helpless I am. If this door is closed then surely Allah will open another for me. And if that closes then some other. I'll keep knocking this time until He forgives me and opens His doors of mercy for me.'
"Thankyou. Sorry to disturb you—" I gave a small smile, which was hidden behind my niqab and turned away.
Maybe, I should look for a place to stay for tonight. A hotel, maybe? Ya Allah, please make a way out for me like You parted the Red Sea for Prophet Musa AS. 'Verily, You alone I worship and You alone I ask for help. (Quran 1:5)'
"Hold on a minute, bachay (child)." His solemn voice resounded behind me and I stopped in my tracks. Turning to face him, I saw that he had closed the few steps which separated us.
"I meant she doesn't live here. This is a Madrasah—" I felt the clogged breath knock out of me and unintentionally a sob cracked out of my lips, which he didn't seem to notice.
"—She teaches here at the Madrasah but her husband Salman Sahib owns it—They don't live far from here. That's their kothi (house), over there—" He pointed to a cottage atop hills which was prominent even from distance.
"I can take you there—" He suggested helpfully but all strength seemed to have left my legs and I fell to the ground with my knees buckling under me and my backpack dropping ahead of me.
"—are you okay?" The guard's worry laced inquiry clashed with my ears. Yet, I couldn't say anything. My whole body shuddered with the gravity of his words. I stumbled to catch my footing but just before getting up I touched my forehead to my backpack on the ground, in prostration. It might've lasted for a second or maybe less but if I wasn't in company of a stranger, I would've never been able to get up from that sujood.
I felt scared—the power and jalal (glory) of Allah was humbling me to dust. His mercy was melting my heart. How could I've ever dared to disobey Him? What chance do I stand against the Almighty? The Greatest?
"If Allah should aid you, no one can overcome you; but if He should forsake you, who is there that can aid you after Him? And upon Allah let the believers rely." (Quran 3:160)
The ayah from Quran kept repeating in my mind. How many times had I read this and never once internalised it before now. If I were to despair of Allah's mercy again, like before, then He would've surely left me to my own sins. It was easy for Him and He had just now showed it to me—
"And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient." (Quran, 2:155)
And my test had only just begun. I realised that, whilst silently following the guard, who had introduced himself as Faris Baba. I wouldn't have told him anything except my name, even if he asked, but he never did. All the while, he kept telling me stories about Haadi, her husband Salman and the little Ahmad; who loves to eat loquat from the tree in Madrassah. Hearing his tales, I had forgotten about reciting Ayat ul kursi but before I could remember, we were outside the house. It hardly took 10 minutes to get there. Still, I stayed behind and started to pray to Allah again for His help.
'What if she doesn't recognize me? What if she doesn't help me? No—I shouldn't think such things. If Allah wills to help me then I will find some supporter InShaAllah. I shouldn't think that Allah had let me come this far, only to forsake me—'
My thoughts were interrupted when the door opened to reveal Haadi. Her face was obscured by the ends of her dupatta in a niqab but I could never forget those eyes. Her eyes were focused on Faris Baba, until I called her out.
"Haadi?" My voice cracked with tears and immediate recognition flickered across her eyes. In a flash, I had moved to envelop her in a hug. The tears and sobs that I was fighting so hard for so long, were irrepressible when I fell into her embrace. Immediately her hands had wrapped around me comfortingly until she pulled me away from her to take my face in her hands.
"Aasi?! What—how?—Wha— let's go inside first —Shukria Baba—" She began to drag me in and after closing the door she took me in her warm embrace once more.
"Ya Allah! I can't believe it—! Aasi my jaan—! What—" I could do nothing to stop my sobs or prevent the tears soaking through the fabric of my Chadar. I only kept on calling out her name and nothing more. She didn't say anything just continued patting the back of my head soothingly.
"It's okay—InshaAllah—Everything is going to be alright, InshaAllah." I heard her say finally after a long while.
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"Already?" Haadi asked with a smile when I covered my hand with hers, who was feeding me dinner with her own hands.
"Okay. You should rest now. I am sure you're very exhausted. I have kept everything you may need and a change of clothes too. Still if you need anything let me know, okay?" She spoke in that same sweet voice that I remembered her for. Not once had she asked me what had happened or why I was here at her door, in this state. Instead, she let me cry in her arms while repeating the same thing, 'It's going to be okay InshaAllah'.
Looking away with a nod, I blinked away the tears brimming in my eyes.
"Aasi—You don't have to worry about anything. Whatever it is, InshaAllah we'll work something out. Okay?" She wiped away my tears and got up from the bed with the tray in her hands before bending down to place a small kiss on my forehead.
"Rest now." She gave a small smile before leaving me alone in the guest room. After coming here, the seriousness of my actions was drawing up on me. I was only being a nuisance to Haadi. She had her own life, her own family and here I was wrecking havoc on it, like a pest.
Last night, while praying for a way out; I had remembered about that card which laid safe in my diary. When I was 13, she had returned to Kashmir because Moalima was sick with cancer. After that I never heard from her again. Until, 4 years ago, when I accidentally met her in a restaurant and she had immediately recognised me. She told me then, that she was there to visit her brother-in-law with her husband and son. Even though, I promised to come meet her one day. I never thought it would be like this.
Maybe this was the plan of Allah.
I thought while getting up to pray Isha. After praying, I cried so hard in sujood, thanking Allah for showing me mercy and not leaving me alone without any protection or a roof over my head even for a night. In the midst of it, I fell asleep there and when my eyes opened it was time for Tahajjud.
But a pillow was placed under my head and a blanket was sheltering me from cold.
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"Do you want to come with me to Madrasah, today? Just like old times." She turned to me with a warm smile, while watching me sip the strawberry milkshake that she had especially prepared for me because she remembered it was my favourite. Instead of replying right away, I turned my eyes down in shame.
"Haadi—You haven't asked me anything—" I finally asked her. Just a while ago, I had met Salman bhai who was as nice and welcoming as Haadi. He said he had heard a lot about me from her and was really glad to finally meet me. Even Ahmad, who was 5 years old only, kept calling me Aasiya Khala, which Haadi had introduced me to him as.
"Aasi—You don't need to rush. Take your time. Now that you're here, InshaAllah me and Salman will do everything to protect you, from whatever it is that you ran away from, InshaAllah—" She smiled softly while clutching my hand in hers but I only shook my head at her.
"No—you don't know Navi—If he somehow finds me here—He'll—" I didn't dare complete my thought. Ya Allah—! What would I do, then?
I had made sure to be as discreet as possible. I had left that day early morning with the driver after coming up with the plan. Since the nikah was already done, so nobody thought I could think about running away, anymore. Taking some cash from my account, I had asked the driver to drop me off at a parlour and come back for me in 4 hours. From there on, I had disguised myself and taken a rikshaw to a local bus stop to get a ticket for Kashmir, which was only 5 hours away from my city.
Yet, if Navi tried to find me—maybe somehow he still could—
Before I could let my worst fears consume me, Haadi's consoling voice saved me from the whispers of Shaitan driving me hopeless of Allah's mercy.
"Aasi—Us meeting that day 4 years ago and you coming to me now, it was all a part of Allah's plan. And whatever is going to happen from here on, is going to be by His will too. Nothing could be better in our interests than what Allah has written and if He means to save you or us, then Navi or even the whole world together cannot harm us. You came this far, all by yourself, only relying on Allah's grace. So do that now too. He will handle your affairs in the best possible manner, so much better than any of us could even imagine. Rely on Him solely. He is Al-Hakeem, the Most Wise and Al-Wakeel, The Disposer of Affairs. 'Hasbun Allahu wa ni'mal Wakil—Allah (Alone) is Sufficient for us and He is the Best Disposer of affairs (for us)' [Quran 3:173]—" Haadi had stopped to get up and hug me to herself who had once again become inconsolable. The tears seemed never ending now. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a tight grip. The fear was still alive and burning in my chest. My past was still clawing to me, trying to pull me back by digging it's clutches deep into my skin.
I was still scared and very much lost and in desperate need of guidance.
But I knew one thing for sure, there was nothing—no reason that could ever compel me to return to that hell that I had run away from.
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