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16th Feb, 2020

The Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said: "Shirk among you will be more subtle than the footsteps of an ant, but I will teach you something which, if you do it, both minor and major shirk will be kept away from you. Say: Allaahumma inni a'oodhu bika an ushrika bika wa ana a'lam wa astaghfiruka lima la a'lam (O Allah, I seek refuge with You from associating anything with You knowingly, and I seek Your forgiveness for that of which I am unaware)."

Classed as saheeh by al-Albaani in Saheeh al-Jaami', 3731

Chapter 14:

What do you do with an apology?

The truth is, your past doesn't go anywhere. You can put it behind yourself, of course, but the pain, or the lessons, whichever you choose, will follow you to your present. This is why, Afreen was currently retracing her past, thinking back to the events that unfolded before her wedding and out of everything that occurred, she remembered two aspects vividly. One was her mum warning her, and two, it was Afreen, nevertheless, accepting a mediocre life with Zubair.

Afreen promised to live in any circumstance that Zubair offered, and for the most part, she was trying to stay true to her promise, but she was slowly starting to feel the pinch. When Afreen had gotten married, she had brought everything with her to this new home, but the supplies were now diminishing. Just yesterday she needed to restock her shampoo and body lotion, and while she had never thought of it before, when the cashier announced the amount and Zubair frowned, that moment had made her realize how expensive her choice of brand was. Probably next month she would have to compromise and look for cheaper alternatives, but the bigger problem of the disparity in mindset was hard to deal with.

Zubair was a good guy, her mum had failed to see that. It wasn't his fault that he was trapped in such circumstances, but he had a good heart and was striving to reach bigger goals. However, Afreen also realized, while she was giving him the benefit of doubt and letting him off the hook, things were getting difficult to handle. Day by day, putting up with Mubeena was getting challenging and Afreen was finding herself at the edge of sanity. Her mother-in-law needed to understand they were newly married and needed some privacy, she couldn't go around putting so many restrictions on them, it would eventually affect their relationship.

Such were Afreen's thoughts, as she sat on the swing, folding laundry when her free view of the distant sky was obstructed with a person gazing down on her.

"Did you ask Zubair to remove the black thread?" Mubeena questioned, without starting with any form of greetings, her voice laced with fury.

Mubeena hadn't ever directly spoken so brashly, she usually resorted to indirect means to taunt Afreen, so this was quite new and surprising, and it took a moment for Afreen to register her words, and when she did, she didn't know how to respond.

"I just told him what Islam teaches..." Afreen trailed off, intimidated.

"You don't have to teach him new things, Afreen, we've been following all this for years, so please stay away from it. If your beliefs are different, you don't have to transfer the same to my son. He will do what his mother tells him."

Now, Afreen had had enough of 'my son' territory that Mubeena always marked, and she decided this needed to stop.

"Your son is my husband too, Mummy," she replied, for the first time in this house, raising her voice against injustice. "I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with him, and he must know to differentiate lies from truth."

Afreen may not admit, but it felt good saying that. No matter what the outcome, she felt relieved at the moment to respectfully put forth her opinion. Her parents hadn't wasted their life raising her, she had a voice and they had taught her very well how to use it.

"Oh!" Mubeena exclaimed, raising an eyebrow, strangely awed to see her opinionated. However, dismissing her previous threat, she responded, "We're going to Ajmer next month, Zubair is coming with us to visit the shrine of a Baba we believe in, if you want to, you can accompany us or go stay with your parents, but I'm warning you, don't try to brainwash my son."

Afreen was taken aback at the statement. When Afreen had raised the topic of getting away to a nearby hill station for a couple of days, Zubair had said since he had just started working he couldn't take any holidays. But now, if he was really going to be accompanying his parents to a shrine in a different city, they had a problem. A big one, for multiple reasons.

"I'm not brainwashing him, Mummy, I'm just telling him what's true. Why do you even want to go to Ajmer, all of us can save that money and gather a little more and go on Umrah instead," she suggested.

"But aren't you going to do the same thing in Madina? Won't you be visiting Prophet Muhammad's grave and narrate to him your duas so he can take them to Allah on your behalf? We're doing the same at the shrine of the deceased in Ajmer, since he was a nobleman, he's Allah's friend, and he too will take our wishes to him," Mubeena debated, finding it hypocritical of her to be saying all this.

Afreen felt her head go dizzy when Mubeena spoke, realizing it was easier to convince Zubair on this because he was on the fence, he neither visited Masjids nor dargahs. He was in the middle, so it was simpler to guide him in the direction of goodness. As for Mubeena, she had chosen her side and was way too adamant to reason.

"Mummyji," Afreen replied, "You're mistaken. I've been to Madina before, alhamdulilah, and no one over there goes to the Prophet's grave and asks him to take our wishes to Allah. We just visit the Masjid and the blessed land that he once walked upon. Once the soul is taken from your body, you are cut off from the Dunya, you're alive in the life of barzaq, which is the life between this dunya and akhirah, but the dead cannot hear us. That is the nature of this life. The prophet was the best man to have walked this world, and if just learning about him makes our heart swell in love for him, can you imagine the love that the sahabas had for the prophet, the companions who lived with him, walked with him, learned from him? In his lifetime, a lot of people used to come to the Prophet and ask him to pray for them, however, we don't have a single authentic hadith that says they continued this after his death. Umar bin Khattab, Abu Bakr Siddeeq, may Allah be pleased with all of them loved the Prophet more than we can probably ever love him, they were deeply saddened on their dear friend's death, but never did they visit his grave to ask the Prophet to make dua for them. When Sahabas didn't practice this after the Messenger's death, how can we invent this practice for any other deceased, no matter how pious he was?"

Despite her stating facts, Mubeena didn't understand how Afreen couldn't grasp the concept of shrines, she had been believing it all her life, how could all those religious ancestors from whom she had learned this be wrong? It was such a noble practice, they'd go to shrines, offer flowers, maybe even buy a cloth and shroud it on the grave, and ask the deceased, who is Allah's friend, to intercede on their behalf to Allah. Mubeena didn't understand why Afreen found it so disturbing.

"Afreen, dargahs do not take you away from Allah, they in fact guide you to Him. Allah is our Lord, we are asking from Him Alone, but through someone else," she explained, trying to get her to see the light.

"But why do something that has no basis in Islam? If Prophet didn't teach this to us, no matter how good it seems, it is innovation, a path of deviation. It may seem like a noble deed, but if it were something that Allah wanted us to do he would have taught it to us through our prophet, or after his passing away, the sahabas would have practiced it. Besides, the connection between us and Allah is direct and personal, why do you insist on going on a conference call with Him through another man who isn't even living?"

Unable to find the right words to answer, Mubeena replied, "Look, I'm respecting your beliefs and not asking you to change them, so you better respect my son's beliefs too, don't force him to think like you."

"I'm only telling him the truth, he's free to decide what he wants to follow," Afreen insisted.

"Thank you for the favor but I'm alive to do that job," Mubeena responded and without waiting for any further explanations, she turned around and walked out.

Sighing, Afreen covered her face in her palms, remembering her mum for the millionth time since the past week.

Mamma, you were right.

She sat under the open sky many minutes after that, a heavy sense of dread looming over her. Afreen didn't know what it was, but she couldn't snub the heavy feeling of an approaching storm. It reminded her of warm summer days when, as kids, they'd gather their toys and go out to play, but out of nowhere it would start raining, and they'd pack everything and have to return home, all plans ruined.

"Assalamu alaikum," Rufaida greeted, interrupting Afreen's thoughts as she carried a loaded bucket of washed laundry and went ahead to hang them on the string.

"Wa Alaikum as-salam," Afreen replied gloomily.

A few beats of silence and no one spoke, until Afreen finally observed, "I hardly see you these days, no one would believe we share a roof."

"Yeah," Rufaida agreed, smiling as she scrunched her nose. "Work has kept me busy."

"What's it like working in a hospital?" Afreen enquired, welcoming a change in topic.

"It's good, alhamdulilah. Not all doctors like dietitians, some treat us like second class citizens, and you've got to constantly prove your worth. But it's a noble profession, healing patients through food, it gives a warm feeling when you see the diets that you've provided bringing about a positive change."

"That's nice," Afreen smiled. As an afterthought, she added, "Working in a place that's made to witness so many tragedies and pain can get a little difficult, no?"

"What you feel there is not very different from what you feel dealing with life."

Observing the girl before her, Afreen commented, "Every time I speak to you, I discover a new layer. I'm so curious to know your story."

"Forget about my story," Rufaida dismissed, "Why do you seem upset?"

Afreen exhaled. "I just think it's that phase, this is where the sad part of my life begins."

At that statement, Rufaida stilled in drying the clothes and turned to glance at Afreen. "May Allah always keep you happy," she prayed.

"Aameen, but I don't know, Rufaida, life's starting to take a different turn."

Rufaida didn't ask any questions, yet Afreen elaborated, "My family warned me that marrying Zubair would come with its fair share of trouble, but I was a girl in love, ready to face all storms."

"Do I detect regret?" Rufaida wondered.

"I will always regret breaking my parents' heart," Afreen confessed, "and while I do not regret marrying Zubair, how I wish he was stronger. I traded everything I had just for him, and he can't even say a word in my support in front of his mum."

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, Afreen, but Zubair Bhaiya has been raised that way, no one's allowed to have opinions in this house, Maami's word is final."

"That sounds a lot like dictatorship."

"And dictators make rebels," Rufaida agreed.

"I never realized what a blessing my family is until getting married here. There's no such thing as dictatorship there, everyone is allowed to give suggestions, ask questions, introduce changes. Take Ahmed for example, if something's not right, he'll stand up for it. In fact, Ahmed is super witty and good at debating, to the extent that dad wanted him to become a lawyer. But mum disagreed, she wanted him to become a doctor, but my brother decided to disappoint both my parents equally," she laughed, "so no doctor or lawyer, he's got a creative mind and wants to become an entrepreneur."

Rufaida was listening enthusiastically to Afreen but the minute Ahmed was mentioned, she found herself stiffen. Afreen adored her brothers, no wonder why she always dragged them in every conversation, unaware that it bothered Rufaida.

However, this time, the last sentence piqued her curiosity, and she asked, "Who studies better, Afreen? You or him?"

"Of course, Ahmed. Look at our results for example, I managed to get a decent first-class, and he secured a distinction, stood second in his class."

Shaking her head in incredulity, Rufaida commented, "I don't believe this."

"I don't blame you. Ahmed doesn't look that kind, but he studies well. You'll see him fooling around throughout the semester, but exam time, he burns the midnight oil. He's smart that way."

Rufaida was so tempted to inform her that Ahmed was smart the other way and that his distinction was a result of cheating, but she decided it wasn't her truth to tell.

"By the way," Afreen interrupted, and her high pitch earned an alarmed gaze from Rufaida.

"Why are you smiling like that," Rufaida asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Like what?" Afreen questioned innocently.

"Like a naughty little girl," Rufaida answered.

Humming in affirmation, Afreen grinned. "Your Nani has collected the profiles of some of the most eligible guys. Did you have the chance to go through them?"

Huffing at that, Rufaida responded, "I don't have time for all this."

"Give them a chance at least," Afreen insisted.

"I stick by what I said, I am not getting married."

"Aww," she cooed, "I personally found Armaan the best, he looked like a great match for you."

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I have no regrets that I've disappointed you," Rufaida jested.

"Come on, at least go through the profiles, who knows you may find your other half."

That earned Afreen a laugh of incredulity from Rufaida.

"Why find another half when you can be whole on your own?"

"Your thoughts are a man's nightmare," Afreen confessed. "Especially men in our society, they cannot tolerate a strong woman."

"I know," Rufaida nodded, "That's why when they find a strong woman, they break her."

"Which is why you do not want to be found by any man?" Afreen immediately questioned. "It all makes sense now," Afreen answered her own question, her eyes glinting with the excitement of discovering something new, as if the missing piece to the puzzle was found.

"What makes sense?" Rufaida prodded.

"You do not associate yourself with the idea of marriage because you fear getting hurt, don't you? There's a trauma weighing you down, and you've never found a guy worthy of your trust." She paused, before continuing, "You're strong, and you want no man to find you because men break everything that challenges their strength."

At Afreen's statement, Rufaida stood up, walking ahead to water the plants, letting Afreen seek pleasure in her false newfound theory.

You think I'm invincible

Because I'm unbreakable

You'll never find out

And I'll never let you doubt

That the strong woman before you

Was formed as a result of

breaking

into

two

***

"Afreen, for God's sake, can you ever be on time?"

Smiling guiltily, Afreen stepped inside Ahmed's car.

"Why must you be so punctual, Ahmed? Couldn't you come a little late?" She asked instead.

"Why did it take you so long?" He complained, turning the key in the ignition as he drove in reverse, thanks to the narrow lane that made taking a turn inconvenient.

"I fell asleep, then while leaving I had to answer my mother in law's million questions of where I was going and when I'll be back, so all of that took time. Come on now, stop being grumpy," she nudged him.

"Why are you always sleepy?" He grumbled.

"Research shows a woman needs more sleep than a man," she replied cheekily.

"Of course, for all the extra use women put their brains through for overthinking and making ridiculous connections."

"At least we use our brains, wish I could say the same for men," she debated.

"Should have checked if Zubair had a mind instead of falling only for his heart," Ahmed spun the conversation.

"Ahmed," Afreen slapped his arm, "I was talking about you, no need to get Zubair in this conversation."

"I thought you were talking about men in general," he shrugged innocently.

"Don't have to act all smart," she deadpanned.

"Serious question, how's Zubair? Is he keeping you happy?" Ahmed asked this time. With the way Afreen trusted him and took his side against the entire family, he just hoped Afreen was finding this relationship worth it. Unlike some people, Ahmed wasn't the kind of guy to pray that Zubair would mess things up just so he could prove to Afreen her actions were wrong and use the 'I told you so' dialogue. He wanted his sis to be content, that's about it. Even if it meant his entire family, including his mum, had been wrong in judging him, he would gladly accept it.

"He's good, very good," she answered. "And yes, I'm happy with him, alhamdulilah."

"Alhamdulilah," Ahmed nodded, silently praying that Allah would give her more happiness in the future.

They caught up about their lives, with Afreen enquiring about everyone at home and laughing at all of Fariha's tales that Ahmed narrated.

In between the conversation, Afreen asked, "By the way, how come you thought of taking your little sister out for lunch today? Is something fishy?"

"Trust you to doubt my noble intentions," Ahmed sighed dramatically. "This world, what has it come down to."

"Okay, relax," Afreen calmed. "I have to be home before six, when Zubair returns home I want to be there," she informed, smiling as she thought of Zubair. Weird to say this, but she missed him. If Ahmed wasn't around, she would have given him a call.

"Gross, keep all the lovey-dovey stuff to yourself," Ahmed gagged, causing Afreen to roll her eyes.

"I didn't even say anything remotely romantic," she justified. "Why must you be so dramatic, I pity your future wife."

"Whoever she is, she's going to be blessed, doesn't need your pity."

"Of course, of course," Afreen replied.

A while later, when Ahmed questioned how were things back at Afreen's home, she told him about Mubeena and everything that she was coping up with. She gave him a glimpse of the events that were taking place there, so glad to be able to share it with someone. At the end of her rant, she said, "Ahmed, whenever you get married, I want you to take a stand for your wife if mum or any one of us from family is unintentionally wrong to her. That's the least you can learn from what I'm going through in that house. Every time his mum does something and Zubair doesn't speak up, it kills me on the inside."

"I'm not sure if it's that easy, Afreen," Ahmed answered. "Even if I know mum's wrong, I don't think mum would want me to correct her in front of my wife. She's elder to us and she may get offended. I may probably have a conversation with her in private, but I don't know man, how this entire marriage thing works. We'll see when it happens, which isn't anytime soon."

"Are you taking Zubair's side?" Afreen asked, taken aback.

"No, never, not standing against oppression is a sin. All I'm saying is it's not that easy to upset your mum too, you need to be diplomatic."

"I'm so mad at you right now," she mumbled. "I narrate to you how his mum is making my life miserable and this is all that you've got to say?"

"How's this fair, you can't be mad at me because I'm not enough mad about something that you're mad about," he retorted, trying to make sense of his twin's reaction.

"Whatever Ahmed, have fun sailing in two boats. Just yesterday I was telling Rufaida how cool you are and how you know when to speak the right thing, and here you are proving me wrong. Shouldn't have spoken so highly of you," she lamented.

His eyes widening in curiosity, Ahmed quietly asked, "Whom were you telling all this to?"

"Rufaida."

"Why was I being discussed in a conversation between you two?" He questioned, his inquisitiveness reaching a new height.

"Because I was discussing how good my family members are, but you just made me realize how you don't belong to that category."

Ignoring her jibe, since his focus was somewhere else, Ahmed asked, "And what did she say?"

At the question, it was Afreen's turn to look at him strangely.

"Are we developing some sort of interest in Rufaida?" She questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Nonsense," Ahmed dismissed immediately. "Last Friday, I heard a khutbah, and I've been slightly disturbed."

At his statement, Afreen threw a speculative glance his way. He maneuvered the car in a lane and halted by Afreen's favorite restaurant, and once their orders were placed and they were waiting for food, Ahmed continued where they left off.

"The topic was oppression, and the Imam said that if you've slandered and disregarded someone's dignity, Allah will not forgive you until you seek forgiveness from that person."

"Okay...but what has this got to do with Rufaida?"

When Ahmed went on to narrate his encounter with Rufaida on the day she had kept a food stall in college, and the statement he passed, Afreen felt her cheeks flame up in second-hand embarrassment.

"I cannot, absolutely cannot believe you taunted Rufaida on her financial status. That's humiliating and shameful, Abbu would be so annoyed if he heard you right now. I am so mad at you, that was extremely low," she burst out.

"I was really upset at that time, you were in the hospital and the situation at home was disastrous, I thought all of them were involved in getting you in this trap, so took a jibe at her," he confessed, looking away. He knew what he did was wrong, and the guilt was weighing heavily on his heart.

"What did Rufaida say in response?" She asked instead, unwilling to see his perspective after what he had committed.

"Nothing, she didn't say anything," Ahmed replied.

"Of course she wouldn't. She's such a nice person, Ahmed, she's become a friend in the past few days, and this is what you did to her? This wasn't expected of you. Just because you come from a privileged background does not give you the liberty to see others as gold diggers. Look at me, my dad is rich but my husband isn't, tables turn within the blink of the eye, money is not everything, and you went around being proud of it and looking down upon others. What has Rufaida ever done to you or me? She didn't deserve this. She comes as a real tough girl but every human has a heart, and when you inflict pain, hearts break and cry. No wonder she thinks men are trash, you definitely proved to be."

"I already feel bad, don't make me feel miserable," he replied softly.

"You must feel miserable because I'm sure that's how Rufaida must have felt when you passed the unnecessary remark. I used to see you as such a humble person, weren't you the guy who'd give away all his pocket money every time he saw a poor person, what happened to you now, look at you walking around throwing so much head weight."

"Afreen, I already feel guilty, stop."

Afreen looked away in anger, her cheeks still ablaze. She knew she was being very mean to Ahmed but she just couldn't stop, he seriously shouldn't have crossed that line with Rufaida. Definitely not Rufaida.

"I'd react this way had it been any other person and the fact that its Rufaida makes it even worse. She's had a difficult childhood, she doesn't have a father, Zubair's mum treats Asma Aunty and her as a burden, they work very hard to earn a livelihood and live a life of dignity, there's some trauma that she's been through. These are the things I've observed living in the house, God knows what's more to her story. She looks very normal outside but her eyes hold some pain that can swallow you whole. And as if all this wasn't enough, you went ahead and taunted her about a topic she seldom discusses."

"If you can, please convey my apology to her," he requested and swallowing her anger, she looked at Ahmed, finally trying to see his side.

Her brother wasn't a bad guy, and it was his love for her that had caused him to do this. His anger wasn't justified, his action was still wrong, but Afreen knew Ahmed was better than this. At the end of the day, he was a human, and humans were sinners. The fact that he was finally feeling guilty about it was a sign of his goodness, otherwise, there were so many people in this world who planted thorns in others' gardens and felt no remorse.

Sipping water, she said, "Fine, I will, you can feel less miserable now."

When Ahmed said nothing, Afreen consoled, "It's okay, Ahmed, we're all humans. Take me for example, I've hurt Abbu and Mamma so much, spoken words I shouldn't have. Throughout your life, you may strive to be a hero, but in some chapter, you're going to become a villain. You may try to be good to everyone, but inevitably, you may be the cause of pain for someone. That's about humans, they make mistakes so they can repent and earn Allah's closeness."

"Yeah," Ahmed sighed, twirling his fork around the chop suey as he took a bite. He was glad that his sis wasn't condemning his actions anymore, but that didn't make him feel less regretful.

What he did was wrong. Period.

"What happened about the applications you sent to Universities? Did you receive a response?" Afreen prodded, subtly changing the topic and unwilling to have this conversation, Ahmed gladly went about discussing other things.

When around five, they were about to leave, as Ahmed was buying snacks to take back home, since his cousin, Furqaan was dropping by with his wife and children, he offered the same to Afreen.

"Afreen, you want to take back something home?"

"I don't mind, actually," she answered.

"Cool," he nodded, and turned around and informed, "Please make that two of everything, and pack them separately."

Once done, the twins walked up to the car, and when they had reached home and Afreen bid Ahmed goodbye, he handed over her set of takeaway parcels to Afreen.

"Give this separately to her," he instructed, handing over a tiny package and when Afreen peeked inside, she realized it contained the box of two pastries that Ahmed had gotten packed separately at the restaurant.

"Ahem," she cleared her throat.

"Don't read too much into it," he alerted, "It's my way of an apology, it'll make me feel better after the damage I inflicted. You don't have to tell her it's from me, pretty sure she won't accept it if you do."

"I'll handle it my way," Afreen replied. "Thanks for today, brother, the outing wasn't too bad," she teased, smiling cheekily.

Clicking his tongue at the choice of words, Ahmed replied, "Yeah, I had a good time with you too."

"Chalo, assalamu alaikum. Convey my salam to everyone at home."

"Wa Alaikum as-salam, will do. Take care, Afreen, your mother in law will come to terms with reality soon in sha Allah, don't stress too much," he comforted.

Nodding at his effort to support her, she waved her hand and walked inside as Ahmed drove away.

Since there were a few minutes for Zubair to return, she didn't open the parcel yet and keeping it in the kitchen, she walked towards Rufaida's room.

"May I come in?" She asked politely.

"Please, come in Afreen," Rufaida invited.

"Asma Aunty hasn't returned from school yet?" She asked, trying to strike a casual chat.

"No, they had a meeting today after the students left, so she'll be home a little late," Rufaida informed.

"I see," Afreen nodded. After a moment's pause, she said, "Rufaida, I'm extremely sorry."

Taken aback by the statement, Rufaida enquired, "Why would you say that, Afreen, you haven't done anything."

"I'm sorry on Ahmed's behalf," she clarified and Rufaida fell silent. "I met Ahmed this afternoon, and he happened to tell me what occurred the other day, and he is extremely guilty for the comment he passed. He's never like this Rufaida, although his action makes him look like an arrogant brat, he's nothing like it. He was emotional at that time and went overboard with his words. I'm not justifying his move, but I hope you can forgive him. He asked me to convey his apology to you, he deeply regrets what he did."

Moved by the genuineness of her tone, Rufaida replied, "It's okay, Afreen."

"You have nothing to complain about him to me?" She asked, surprised.

"No, Afreen. Honestly, I wasn't expecting even this, I had put that encounter behind me."

"The fact that you didn't fight back or try to avenge this speaks a lot about you, Rufaida."

Rufaida smiled bitterly at the compliment, Afreen had no idea just what she had been through to become like this.

"By the way, this is for you," Afreen stretched her hand forward, offering her Ahmed's little apology treat.

"No, that's okay," Rufaida denied.

"Please take it, Rufaida, or I'll feel like you haven't forgiven my silly brother yet."

Hesitantly, Rufaida accepted the bag and when the clock struck six, and Afreen excused herself, Rufaida found the slightest of smiles tilt her lips. Ahmed wasn't the first guy who had caused her pain, but indeed, he was the first one to ever apologize for his behavior. Rufaida realized this was harder than she thought it was. It was easy to detest men in general, but given her recent encounters with Ahmed, and the unfamiliar kindness that her heart had witnessed, what exactly was she supposed to do with this sentiment?

'Bury it,' a voice in her mind prompted and when Rufaida did just that, the universe made a note to blossom the buried with time. Even if it meant she had to survive a devastating storm to bring them to life.