بسم الله .....
Amatullah's POV
"What did she say" Zahra spoke as we all sat into the car; Zahra, Yahya, Ummi and I.
I glanced down at the phone and deciphered the message from my moms awful typing:
'In a week sweety'
"She said she will be a week" I said to Zahra as she took a seat next to me in the car.
"I wanted you to stay longer" she shook my arm.
"My mother is worried about your family, that I might be a burden especially at this moment in time" each word got quieter and quieter.
If it was for me, I would have left a very long time ago. Since Yahya had returned from hospital, I felt as though I shouldn't be there especially at this time of suffering. Yet despite all this, they welcomed me even more, never was I treated as a guest but rather more as part of the family.
"Habibti, tell your mom to take her time, you are always always welcome here habibti!" She turned around from the driver seat and smiled at me warmly.
She began reversing out of the drive and it seemed that the journey went in a flash...smiles and laughs, jokes and memories all passengers in the car along with our ache to hide our emotions and struggles.
"Which one is it?" Zahra leaned forward in excitement.
"It's called Rigida I think" Her mother parked up on the side roads as she checked her phone of the address.
"Yep that's where aunty went a while ago to eat. She said it was a good restaurant" he said passively.
"Well of course it is dummy, we won't be coming here if it wasn't." Zahra shouted.
YA Allah, there closeness did make me smile, the very privilege of observing it was enough for me to become highly confused; was it banter or sheer hatred?
"Okay okay let's go" Ummi glared at them both as we all escaped the car.
At our feet stood a tall building banded with a red strip where "Rigida" was engraved solidly into what looked like a ceramic board.
"What's with the name though" i said passively.
"No one has invented words, it's made up" Zahra said as she hooked her arm into mine.
"Words are supposed to help us express ourselves in the best way possible. It may be that they find that word best describes their restaurant" Yahya spoke as he dug his hands into the pockets of his thowb.
"Wear your coat you dimwit" Zahra reached back into the car and passed him his coat.
"Okayer" he said amiling
And as we walked into the mouth of the restaurant, a spicy aurora sat contained into little lanterns that were sewn across the exciting material; a picturesque of dazzling stars, some shining brighter and louder than the other.
And as the orange tinted light embraced us, a waiter, tall and dark in complexion greeted us with a warming smile.
"Good afternoon, how many?" She smiled at everyone of us.
"5" Zahra shouted at the waiter.
"What its four?" Yahya looked at Zahra disappointed.
"Ooooh yes!" She said embarrassed looking in the opposite direction.
"4? Oh okay, that's fine, great" the waiter led us along the rows along the groups of families and couples, shuffling waiters scampering from one direction to another.
As we took our places, we took our jackets off and took seat.
"This place looks quite nice don't you think Amatullah?" Zahra's mother looked across to me.
"Yes yes of course!" I smiled warmingly.
and conversations broke out...
Loud and rose-tinted they were untill a silence broke out in the restruant caused by a clinking of a glass.
We all turned to the side to see a large group of men stapled with long beards, short beards, thick beards and ginger beards sitting along a semi circular table. On the corner sat a little group of teenage boys, all smiling sheepishly and exchanging small conversations.
"Abdullah, repeat your last page in Sha Allah" a tall almost white teenager began turning red as he looked down towards the table.
The silence in the restuarant began to fade away as people returned to their own conversations.
And a thunderous voice broke out, so incongruent to the scenery that as if at that very moment a train broke in into the calm restuarant.
وَقَيَّضْنَا لَهُمْ قُرَنَاءَ فَزَيَّنُوا لَهُم مَّا بَيْنَ أَيْدِيهِمْ وَمَا خَلْفَهُمْ وَحَقَّ عَلَيْهِمُ الْقَوْلُ فِي أُمَمٍ قَدْ خَلَتْ مِن قَبْلِهِم مِّنَ الْجِنِّ وَالْإِنسِ إِنَّهُمْ كَانُوا خَاسِرِينَ
And We have assigned them (devils) intimate companions (in this world), who have made fair-seeming to them, what was before them (evil deeds which they were doing in the present worldly life and disbelief in the Reckoning and the Resurrection, etc.) and what was behind them (denial of the matters in the coming life of the Hereafter as regards punishment or reward, etc.). And the Word (i.e. the torment) is justified against them as it was justified against those who were among the previous generations of jinns and men that had passed away before them. Indeed they (all) were the losers.
And it carried on, a warning upon another warning; a cry to come back, to return to the one whom you always belonged to, and to trust none other than Allah swt. With what the world holds, the good seems bad and the bad seems good; a somehow unexplainable paradox that we all have taken haven in.
And to know, that those who have wronged us are wrong and to take there word as our illah, is far from the true path.
The boy carried on and as he ended his ayah, he collected himself together and hunched back into his small position; as if the only thing that had given him pride and courage were the words of Allah.
"Subhnallah" we all choruses.
At once there was an exchange of gifts with the boy, who's name was Abdullah; his father it seemed had passed him a large wrapped box, while his moulana had passed him this fragile box, covered with silk and embedded with gold Jems. A few of the other teenagers and the other men passed him gifts as they piled in front of him.
"The greatest gift will be in the Akhirah for him no indeed" Yahya spoke as he smiled warmly at the boy.
"When do you even say the word indeed?" Zahra broke out.
"It's because I say it" I smiled at Zahra and turned back towards the group.
Another boy took his place and recited the last part of his Hifz it seemed but quite unusually it was the last page of Surah Rahman.
"He must have memorised in a different order" Zahra's mother said.
And as we turned back into our seats, I felt quite intrigued.
"Ummi, have you memorised the Quran" I directed towards Zahra's mother.
There was a silence and the food we had ordered had just been delivered.
"You see Amatullah, when I was younger, there weren't any facilitates for me to memorise the Quran." She began eating at the same time after reciting her Dua.
"I wasn't allowed as my father didn't approve of it. He had told me that you do not need to waste your time memorising the Quran when you can learn how to cook" she glanced up at me.
"That's horrible" I spoke.
What society? What...I was quite speechless.
"It gets worse" Yahya said assuringly.
"He didn't let me go to college in Pakistan and so when we moved to England when I was 17, I took lessons secretly away from my father into reading the Quran and also my exams into getting into university"
"And then?" Zahra said.
"You already know man!" Yahya nudged Zahra.
"I waned to go to university and so my father refused to talk to me. But a lot has changed, my mother was supportive and still is very supportive but of course it is very difficult"
"And dad has gone to Saudi also" Yahya looked towards me.
"I am learning quite a bit here" I said starting into my meal.
"Yes you are Amatullah, my husband has gone to study Islamic Law in Saudi and shall be back before Yahya gets married in Sha Allah" she laughed at Yahya.
"Whatever" he said as he began turning into a tomato.
"We will see" Zahra said wiggling her eyebrows.
"Yeah, we will see" Zahra's mother smiled at Yahya and at that very moment, Yahya and I made unintentional eye contact in disgust.