Màu nền Màu tối Mặc định Xám nhạt Xanh nhạt Xanh đậm Vàng nhạt Màu sepia Vàng đậm Vàng ố

Font chữ: Palatino Linotype Bookerly Segoe UI Patrick Hand Times New Roman Verdana Tahoma Arial

Chiều cao dòng: 100 120 140 160 180 200

Kích cỡ chữ:

2nd March 2021

"There should be no envy (hasad) except between two people, a man to whom Allaah has given (knowledge of) the Qur'aan, so he recites it night and day, and a man to whom Allaah has given wealth, so he spends it (in good deeds) night and day." 

(Narrated by Muslim, 815)

Chapter 25:

Seek and you will find

In sync with the Imam, Ahmed turned his head to the left as he said his salam for the Fajr prayer that he was offering in congregation, a daily routine he remembered abiding by right from his teenage years. He listened carefully to the short sermon that followed after the salah, and then went on to recite his morning adhkar. The rows in the Masjid were always few when it came to the morning prayer, and as the people started scattering, Ahmed remained seated where he was, raising his hands in supplication.

As his heart poured its miseries in front of its Rabb, his lips didn't know how to word his dua.

For the infinite time, the last meeting at Zaika flashed before his eyes, and he recalled the silent heartbreak he endured when he realized Rufaida was getting married. It just wasn't a declaration of her marriage, but it was also the proclamation of the fact that the girl his heart had begun to recognize as home considered him as a stranger.

The girl for whom his feelings had betrayed him held absolutely no emotions for him.

The girl he had fallen for chose to fall for someone else.

The girl with whom he wanted to have a future had no space for him in her life.

'Ya Allah,' Ahmed prayed. 'Give my heart peace.'

It wasn't Rufaida's fault that she couldn't reciprocate Ahmed's feelings, but as much as he tried accepting the truth, it felt like swallowing down venom, a hard pill that regurgitated out after every trial. While Ahmed was still mapping out how to bring up this matter at home and reach a successful end, it turned out that Rufaida too was busy making arrangements, but both their plans didn't match. While his plans revolved around a wedding with her, she also was preparing a wedding, but with another man. His heart jerked at the thought and suddenly the air around him became difficult to inhale. Whoever the guy was, he sure was blessed, he thought.

Ahmed blinked his eyes rapidly at the moisture that collected in them, not allowing the tears to roll down in proof of his agony. His feelings had shocked his self with how strong they were, those that had surfaced after realizing he couldn't marry the one girl he wanted to. Ahmed wished he'd been quicker with his proposal, that he'd don the hero's cape and do what he could while he still had time, how he wished he hadn't been so slow in action and while there were a lot of what-ifs revolving around his mind, the truth was this was the will of Allah, and that's all that it came down to.

That just because his heart had yearned for love, it wasn't necessary for him to get it. This was dunya after all, you didn't get your dreams delivered to you at the doorstep in pretty wrapping and a bow. You had to toil and work, pray and shatter, drown and hope, and eventually, you'd reach your destination. It was at that moment he realized that dreams were not for the weak-hearted, definitely not the impatient ones.

Rufaida was rare, of that he was certain and it made him wonder if he could ever find someone like her. He was sure he couldn't and while he almost wished this wedding could somehow get canceled so he could get a chance with her once again, he refused to pray for it. Ahmed was not the kind to force someone to be with him, he would definitely not wish for Rufaida to go through heartbreak just so he could mend his own.

And thus, carrying the weight of mountains, he asked Allah to give Rufaida the happiness she prayed for, even if her prayers didn't include him in them.

He left the Masjid shortly after that, his mind numb, and as he walked back home, he made a dua for himself that fit the situation perfectly. It was the dua Umm Salamah had asked when her beloved husband died. As her heart wept over the gem she had lost, she wondered who could ever take the noble man's place, how anyone could substitute him. But she still made this dua and Allah replaced her loss with the treasure of Prophet Muhammad, may peace be upon him, and she went on to marry him, the best man to have walked on the earth.

Inna Lillaahi wa inna ilayhi raaji'oon, Allaahumma ujurni fi museebati w'ukhluf li khayran minha
-Truly, to Allah we belong and truly, to Him we shall return; O Allah, reward me in this calamity and compensate me with something better than it.

***

The days merged into nights, the nights merged into weeks, and the weeks went by until a fortnight had passed. The cheer in Rufaida's house had lulled, Asma and Nani's smiles turned into deep creases on their foreheads, exciting plans reached a point of stagnation, and nothing but a piercing silence encompassed the atmosphere that once buzzed with energy.

"You didn't receive any call, did you?" Nani asked one evening, as soon as she stepped in their home and Rufaida's heart sank for the two women she loved so much.

"No," Asma responded, her tone remorseful.

When Rufaida had given her consent to go ahead with Ali's proposal, the entire house had celebrated. It was the first time she had agreed to something like this and as humans, they had gone ahead of themselves in planning their next moves. Believe it or not, Asma had been so ecstatic and positive about it that she had taken Rufaida shopping with her and had bought her a dress, insisting that she had no good clothes to wear when her prospective husband would come to see her for the first time.

The tailor had stitched and delivered the dress in a couple of days, but two weeks later, it still remained untouched, a reminder of all that wasn't meant to be.

Rufaida wanted to stay unfazed about the whole situation, but the truth was, after all the inhibitions she had arduously assassinated, the lack of response on their side stung her. His mother and sister were exceptionally polite when they had met her, and she least expected this from them. She was okay to take no for an answer, what irked her was their silence. How they didn't think she was even worthy enough to be given a response. It was clear that they did not want to go ahead with this proposal, and she was perfectly fine with their decision, but only if they could respect her mother and Nani's feelings enough to keep them informed. She sympathized with several other girls who were stuck in this loop, of prospective proposals filling their hearts with hope and promising vibrant dreams only to rob them of their colours and leave them in several shades of grey.

"I think we should accept that they're not interested," Rufaida finally proclaimed, realizing this couldn't go on forever. She truly pitied her mother, because every time her phone rang, Rufaida found her eyes spark with hope, and every time she recognized who the caller was, a part of her would dim for it wasn't them.

"I think so too," Asma agreed. "I'm tempted to call and ask them, but I know the drill. They've probably found someone else, so instead of questioning them and listening to a rejection, it'll be good if we take the hint."

It was easier said than done, because the verbal assertion made Nani angry, an emotion that you'd rarely associate with her.

"I'm sick of these rich people and their mentality," she rebuked, her eyes reddening, partly with fury and mostly with hurt. "The least they could do was to keep us informed, do our emotions and feelings not matter in this world? When they came here, the last thing they said before leaving was that they'll let us know. So what happened? Who gave them the right to keep us on the edge after showing so many dreams?"

"It's our fault that we pinned our hopes to them," Rufaida shrugged. "People treat marriage as nothing short of a business deal, you're not liable to be courteous to a company you're not interested in if you've found what you're looking for elsewhere."

"Business deals are not going to take you to Jannah," Nani reprimanded. "Courtesy and how you deal with people will."

Rufaida smiled a smile that reflected the worry of her Nani's frown, just that the curves were tilted differently. "It's okay, Nani," she consoled, swallowing the tinge of hurt that came with her first rejection in this field. "Everything is okay in this life," she added, losing count of the several times she was made to feel this way until she realized this is how dunya worked.

"They probably thought they had an upper hand. They were better than us in terms of financial status, and the fact that they were from the 'guy's side' must have also given them a sense of superiority to not get back to us," Asma pitched in, silently wishing after all the dreams she had dreamt, after all this time, they shouldn't have shattered so cruelly.

"If they are such kind of people, I think we're better off without them," Rufaida stated. "This is the end of discussion from my side, I wish him well in whatever life brings his way. I'll just heat the food and we can have dinner," she excused herself, as she walked to the kitchen with a blizzard of emotions spinning in her mind.

Dear Allah,

Today, I'm tired

I'm tired of fighting battles

And looking for foundations

In empty castles

This life has exhausted me

It promises me a destination

Only to eventually leave me alone

On an empty station

I reached the rock bottom

Yet built myself

Gathered all bits together

But it still doesn't seem to help

My heart is losing out on hope

My blood is running dry of strength

Yet I'm holding onto every shattered piece

For I know all that's broken comes to you to mend

***

That night, once Nani had left, Asma walked inside Rufaida's room with an extremely heavy heart.

Rufaida, having finished her salah, rolled her prayer mat and smiled at her mum, a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Ammi, please don't be this way," she implored. "I don't like seeing you sad."

Asma shook her head in denial. "I'm not sad, Rufi. I'm just confused and disturbed. I know if Allah has sent this situation our way, He wants us to learn something from it, but I'm not quite sure I understand what it is."

"Believe Allah has a plan for you even on days when you don't understand His plan, I guess that's the lesson," Rufaida pointed out.

Asma nodded, and replied, "My heart is not at peace. I've always trusted in Allah's plans, but I wonder why happiness didn't enter our house even after reaching the threshold. What are we to do differently that can ease our struggles?"

Rufaida sighed, a heaviness lingering in the atmosphere. It seemed like today was not her day. Then again, she had felt the same the entire month and entire year and the entire decade. It probably wasn't her life, she concluded, no happiness ever stayed, it would vanish as soon as it announced its arrival. She was more than okay that this proposal didn't work out, but it was the turn of events that was getting to her. How her mother was so hopeful for it, sort of started preparing for it only to reach a day where they had to interpret their silence and break their hearts. It would have been so much better if they weren't hoping and waiting for it, the verdict would have been easier to digest.

And even though Rufaida didn't say it out loud, she wondered if this was life's way of getting back at her. She had spent years despising marriage, surely now that she had changed her mind, it wouldn't come to her that easily, would it? She had prayed against it for so long, then what made her think a sudden change of heart would also reverse the events? Everyone had to go through trials and hardships to wash their sins and elevate in ranks, maybe this was her test. And her poor mum had to face it with her.

"In a way, I want to say it would have been better if we weren't hopeful, if I hadn't bought that dress for you and planned it all out, but I know it was the qadr of Allah and it was intentional. We had to go through this so we would return to Allah more desperately, asking Him for ease and relief. Of course, nothing big has happened, it's not like an engagement was called off or a wedding didn't reach the finality, but whatever happened is still so heavy on us and I wish things wouldn't have gone this way, not after we were so positive. But we plan and Allah plans, and Allah is the Best of Planners," Asma exhaled, finally accepting that Ali was not going to be her son-in-law, that they still hadn't found the guy for her daughter, that the pretty dress she had so excitedly bought was to stay in Rufaida's wardrobe until Allah decreed it was its time.

After a long pause, Asma said, "I think of Afreen every time I think of your marriage, Rufaida. I hope the poor girl finds happiness too. Did you speak to her again?"

At the question, Rufaida nodded. "I had met her a few weeks back, she'd dropped by, and we even had lunch together."

Asma knew that her daughter worked at Ahmed's restaurant, and while the piece of information had initially startled her when she first learned about it, she decided not to comment much, knowing Rufaida would grow conscious. Rufaida had also informed her when she had met Afreen the first time, but there was nothing that she said after that. She knew there wouldn't be anything much to talk about it either, knowing how professional Rufaida was and how she'd never allowed personal history to come in the way of work. However, what she said next caused Asma to raise her eyebrows in surprise.

"When I first met Afreen, I was taken aback by her maturity. She was so well put together and it felt like years of walking on thorns blossomed her into the sweetest flower. However, my last meeting with her just left me feeling off, I didn't expect her to say what she did," she dramatically started.

The statement caught Asma's eye, and she asked, "What did she say?"

"Doesn't matter, Ammi," she hushed the matter.

Asma nodded. "I'm sure it doesn't matter, but I'd still like to know."

Rufaida smiled, "Her suggestion was so absurd that it'll make you laugh. She asked me how welcoming would I be to the idea of marrying her brother."

"Ahmed?" Asma questioned, stunned.

"Jee," Rufaida nodded.

"And what did you say?"

Biting the inside of her cheek and puckering her lips, Rufaida took a minute to gather her thoughts and finally answered. "What could I say, Ammi?" She asked, and suddenly the wind got so cold that she rested her head in her mother's lap, craving comfort, cocooning herself from this harsh world as her mother gently placed her hands on her shoulder. "I told her what she proposed was absurd, that she had forgotten history to suggest something of this sort."

Asma, who had gone speechless for a second, worded her thoughts articulately. "But Afreen doesn't seem to be the kind who'd just propose anything if it didn't stem from a solid foundation."

Rufaida denied the statement. "She said she thought I was a good match for her brother, and I just thought she was being delusional. I agree that I've always felt I'll never be able to meet a man who can fit my criteria, but let's admit it, when it comes to Ahmed, I'm way out of his league."

Rufaida wasn't always like this, so honest and verbal with her feelings. But it was something about the air that night and the weight in her heart that she had to let go of. Even if it meant narrating broken dreams and half wishes, today, Rufaida was being raw and real, her thoughts had choked her enough.

"Did Ahmed anytime give you hints that he's interested in you, did he ever try to speak to you?"

Rufaida's eyes misted at the question, at the sound of his name. "Never, he never even looks at his female staff, forget speaking to them about topics that are not work-related."

"Your reason for denying this was not just the past we share with their family?" Asma asked, trying to make sense of what Rufaida felt.

"Of course that is the reason."

"But not the only reason?" Asma prodded.

Rufaida sighed. "It doesn't matter, Ammi. I told Afreen a clear no, and since Ali's proposal had come around the same time and I had prayed my Istikhara, I also told her I was going to get married soon. Besides, if all of these reasons were not enough to discourage her from planning whatever that she was, in our last meeting, Jamie unintentionally hinted that my wedding was scheduled shortly and he heard it, so he'll probably convey this to his sister."

Asma thought deeply about the perspective Rufaida put forth and questioned, "Rufaida, does Ahmed like you?"

Rufaida let out a humorless chuckle at the unbelievable theory. "We're no match, Ammi. He can get any girl he wants, why then will he choose me? In looks, wealth, class, he's better than me in everything, he has no reason to fall for me. I can't believe you'd even think something like this, it was just an image Afreen proposed without thinking about it, it's a closed chapter."

Asma detected something in Rufaida that she hadn't witnessed in years and as if everything that happened earlier in the evening wasn't enough, her soul protested at this new emotion of her daughter's turmoil. "Rufi, are you being insecure?"

"I'm not, Ammi," she replied confidently. "I hope I'm not," she corrected, a bit uncertainly. "I have my share of blessings that I'm grateful for, and I know Allah has been generous in giving me all that I have."

"Then why do you think you're lesser than Ahmed?"

There were a few beats of silence until Rufaida whispered, a bit embarrassed, "He's been given the entire world but all he wants is the Aakhirah, his balance of deen and dunya is what girls pray to have in their future spouses."

"But that does not make you lesser than him, Rufi," Asma corrected. "Ahmed would be wonderful in his way, but so are you. You are God-fearing, you seek to better your relationship with your Rabb every day. You are modest, of good character, you try to bring ease in people's lives, you too are the kind of person some man somewhere prays for. Ahmed maybe the moon, but you possess the radiance of the sun. One cannot dim the other's light, they shine when it's their turn."

Rufaida thought for a while, and narrated another perspective. "After what my father did to us, it may be wrong, but in a way I feel all men from the elite society are selfish and cruel. You may be a complete package but they'll still get bored of you and leave you for another pretty face. I've never wanted to marry a very rich guy, Ammi, money is a fitnah and you don't know how soon it will cause your steps to falter. I don't want to get married and live the rest of my life fearing when I'll be dumped for another woman just because the guy is good-looking and rich. I'd rather marry someone who earns a decent livelihood and is more value oriented than one spoilt by money."

Asma felt her chest get heavy, wondering how Rufaida developed into such a complex person. It was true, your parents' choices and mistakes reflected in the person you'd become and until you consciously broke through that wall built on years of observation and fear, a part of you would continue to be miserable till the end of time.

"You really think Ahmed too is capable of doing something that you just narrated?"

Rufaida shook her head, accepting that she was wrong. "He's not, but my fears are my fears. I'm not saying this is right, but in the moment, this is how I feel. Besides Ammi, this conversation is pointless, Ahmed has no feelings for me."

Taking in a deep breath, Asma explained, "For sure we can't even afford to think something like this, Zainab will never allow her son to marry you after all that happened with Afreen and at the same time, I wouldn't want you to get married in a family where the mother in law is not happy to accept you as her son's wife. However, it's how you feel about all this that's got me a little worried, Rufi. Not all guys are obsessed with looks and materialistic characteristics, some guys fall in love with a woman's character and seek her for it. What even are looks, Rufi? Your father was one of the most handsome men of our times, but does that matter to us? Looks do not equate to love, true beauty lies in your manners and how you practice your deen. You can be the prettiest girl and use the best make-up, but you may still not fit in the criteria of beautiful for a righteous man who knows what he's looking for. You can be average-looking, but if you are loved by your Rabb, then He will bestow noor on your face, a radiance that people with deeper standards will immediately notice. Beauty radiates from the heart, restricting it to a visual definition would be an insult to the term."

Rufaida caved in at her mother's words, wondering why she had suddenly become so unstable with her thoughts.

Asma smiled ruefully and said, "I've been losing my mind over what lesson life's been trying to teach us through everything that happened with Ali and I finally found my answer. Your journey in discovering Allah still remains, Rufi. While you've grown over the years and I'm proud of how far you've come, alhamdulilah, you still have a few steps remaining. If everything would go smoothly, you'd fail to realize the capabilities of your Lord. You don't understand how big Allah is, Rufi. He's Magnificent, and all these dreams you don't give yourself the liberty to dream because you think they're impossible are just a command away for Allah. He says be and it is. You fear money when we're taught people are envied for two things, the money they are bestowed with and which they spend in the way of Allah and the beneficial knowledge they have. You paint every man with the same brush you've dyed your father, failing to realize the amount of goodness you can reap were you to face similar situations with a twist. The challenge of this phase of your life is to believe in your prayers no matter how difficult they seem, not praying them is not an option. You pray and ask Allah to turn them into reality. You must pray for the best and believe that whatever Allah grants you will be better."

Rufaida took in everything that was told to her, not sure if she even understood half the hints her mum gave her. "Why are you telling me all this, Ammi?"

"Because I see a young girl who is unafraid to dream buried under your fears. Life has been hard on you, Rufaida, and I know the childhood you had to live was very different from many other girls. The lines on your palms scream hard work and you're much older than your years. But why must you allow these things to make you insecure when you can be proud of the person they made you. Your kindness, your charitable instincts, your ability to empathize with other's pain are all a result of your past, so why feel small about what you had to endure when it led you to develop such beautiful characteristics?"

Rufaida hung her head, unable to meet her mother's eyes. "Ammi, I hope you're not saying all this because you think I made a mistake by declining Afreen's proposal."

Asma smiled, "How can you be so sure that it's not Ahmed's proposal?"

Rufaida vehemently shook her head, declining the idea.

"Rufaida, I will never know if Ahmed likes you, but all I want to tell you is that just in case your heart had begun to like Ahmed-"

"I don't like him," Rufaida protested.

"You don't have to tell me how you feel, Rufi. But just in case you think you like him for his deen, I want you to know that you're allowed to hand over your dreams in Allah's Hands. The impossible nature of our worldly matters must not cause us to lose sight of the Lord Who makes things possible. Dua is a form of worship, so gather some tawakkul and pray to your Lord Who owns you and your dreams. I'm not asking you to change overnight, take your time, but please stop undervaluing everything that Allah is capable of doing, don't let the fears of your past stop you from praying for what you wish. Stop thinking you don't deserve it or you can't handle the magnitude of your dreams if they were granted to you, pray for the best because you're seeking from a Lord Who is the best. I'm not asking you to get irrational in what you ask, but trust your Lord. A lot of times blessings don't come to us because we don't believe in them, we don't ask for them. When you knock on Allah's door, He will open it for you as long as you don't get impatient and turn your back. Allah does not return hands raised to Him empty, but if you ever feel your palms hold nothing, then perhaps you lowered them in hopelessness before He could fill them with blessings."

Rufaida hugged her knees to her chest, goosebumps rising on her skin. All of this was so hard to adapt, after years of nurturing weeds, replacing them with flowers was a daunting task. Her heart was so used to bare walls, the scent of fresh blossoms seemed foreign, the thorns had become such friends that cutting her fingers and uprooting them so she could now sow seeds in these very lands posed a challenge.

"You're destined for greatness, Rufi. And the thing about great things is that they don't come to you, you have to work hard, pray harder and seek Allah's help in reaching them."