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25th March 2021

"Women of purity are for men of purity, and men of purity are for women of purity."

[Surah An-Nur]

Chapter 31:

The Meeting


Ahmed rushed out of his car, sprinted on the stairs, and hurried to his mother upon reaching home.

"Mamma!" he exclaimed, a bit breathless, as Zainab momentarily paused in scanning the several jewelry boxes that were spread out on her bed, and looked at her son.

"Assalamu Alaikum," he greeted, catching his breath.

"Wa alaikum as salam," Zainab replied, raising her eyebrows at his current disheveled state.

"Afreen rang me up when I was in the middle of a game of basketball," he explained. "Is it true?" He questioned, seeking confirmation on what he'd heard from his twin.

Resuming her previous job, where she'd been selecting ornaments that once belonged to her to gift to Afreen, she took her time before she graced her son with a reply.

"It's true," she proclaimed, and for the first time in several months, she saw Ahmed's eyes flicker with an emotion akin to happiness. It was so pure and genuine that despite her remonstrance, even Zainab felt it in her chest. "I called Asma a while back, I told her we'll be visiting them tomorrow at 5," she elaborated.

"What was her response?" Ahmed asked immediately and Zainab watchfully observed his eagerness, wondering what it was about Rufaida that had him hooked.

"She welcomed the proposal," she responded, causing Ahmed's lips to curve just a little.

"Mamma?" He asked, genuinely curious. "What made you do this? What changed?"

Her thumb playing with the intricate gemstones engraved in a heavy gold bangle, a sentimental piece of jewelry gifted to her by her mother when she was getting married all those decades back, Zainab replied, "Is a dramatic event always necessary for opinions to shift?"

Ahmed pondered over his mother's statement for a while, and stated, "But humans are this way, aren't we, Mamma? When we hold on to an idea, with every passing day, the roots dig deep and we're unwilling to entertain an alternate possibility. So sometimes, of course not always, but several times, humans tend to shift their opinions only after they encounter a calamity or tragedy, something that shakes us from within. An incident that makes us question the basis of our theories, especially when in the end, we're all going to gather before Allah and will be held accountable for our deeds. I'm not saying this applies to you, Mamma, but it's happened with me in the past. So I just want to know, what caused you to let go of the stance you previously adopted towards this proposal?"

"This is going on for a few months now, Ahmed, and apart from your siblings who've fully sided by you since day one, even your father has been thinking about what you put forward. I won't say he's completely happy, but he's accepted that if this is what Allah has chosen for us, then we won't resist. I initially decided to look into other proposals, did my fair share of running around, but Afreen's wedding is two weeks away and I've had enough of seeing you wander around with a gloomy face. A couple of days back, I visited Shaista to invite their family to the wedding, and she told me about her cousin's son. He's 36 now and still unmarried, they've been looking for a wife for him since he was 24. Both mother and son are extremely fussy, if she likes a girl, he's got a contradicting opinion and vice versa. I didn't want you to eventually end up like him, not when I know you're keen on getting married, so I gave in. There's only so much that parents' can do in front of their child's relentless standpoint."

Ahmed exhaled, and asked, "Did you pray Istikhara, Mamma?"

He knew she would have, but he still wanted to know.

"I've been praying my Istikhara ever since you told me about her, Ahmed. I didn't receive much clarity on the subject initially, perhaps I was too absorbed in how I wanted matters to function that I didn't spare a thought to reflect on the signs from Allah. You don't always get a dream after praying Istikhara, a lot of times it's the feeling in your heart and how things flow. But I prayed the salah again last night, and I saw a dream."

The last statement sparking curiosity, Ahmed questioned, "What did you see, Mamma?"

"You were seated in a vast green field, it was drizzling slightly and you were teaching the Qur'an to two little boys who recited with you. A lady walked up to you, she was holding an infant in her arms, I couldn't see her face, but you smiled at her, and your face glimmered with contentment. You looked like you were given more than what you ever prayed for."

Ahmed found his throat run dry with the dream that his mother projected. He'd begged Allah to open his mother's heart towards this proposal, and this is how Allah had aided him. What Allah had shown his mother was so sweet that he wanted to fall in prostration to Him, praying to Him to turn this dream too into reality with time, where he'd have a family of his own, a loving wife and righteous children, and together they would worship Allah, live a life of blessings as they strove for the highest ranks in Jannah.

Ahmed looked into his mother's eyes, while she stared back at him, both speaking without words. He walked to Zainab and sat beside her on the bed, his foot tapping the ground incessantly as he thought of what to say.

"As much as this happiness is mine, I want it to be yours too, Mamma," Ahmed implored. "I can't get into something knowing I've hurt you."

Lightly patting his hand, Zainab replied, "She's not the girl I'd want you to marry, Ahmed, and you know it. But if Allah has written her for you, I'm aware that I can't do anything about it. If after all the prayers that you've prayed, after years of guarding yourself, staying away from haraam, Allah has brought her in your life, then definitely Allah may have nurtured the attributes in her that match what you've prayed for. Personally, this is not what I'd choose for you, but I also acknowledge that this world works on the command of Allah alone, and He knows who is best for whom. On the surface, I'm still not very fond of this, but I'm drawn towards it through an external force. People of the past will vouch for this, when the time arrives, no one can stop the decree from passing. So I guess that time is here, and we're all being guided towards it, whether we're willing or not, it doesn't matter."

Ahmed weaved his arm around his mother, embracing her in a side hug. "I pray that one day you accept her wholeheartedly, Mamma."

"In sha Allah," Zainab agreed, she too hoped for the same. She was aware that it wasn't going to be very easy, but for her son's happiness, she'd try to maintain a cordial bond with her, and see how they could get along.

The moment felt dreamlike as Ahmed sat with his mother, discussing a matter that he'd been praying about for the longest of times. His mind recognized that things hadn't rolled out perfectly, but he acknowledged this was Dunya and there was a reason why the path to Jannah was paved with tests. He knew the ride ahead would bring its fair share of jerks, but today, he didn't want to ponder over the challenges, as he allowed his heart to reel in the joy of having his dua answered. Very soon, he was going to have Rufaida tread this path with him, and that's all that mattered. Together, with Allah's help, they'd face all odds.

***


It was no secret that Rufaida always kept her home organized. Despite working and having no maid to help around, she tried her best to ensure her surrounding was spic and span. So now, you could only imagine how tidier the already tidy house must have got upon the news of the arrival of guests.

Both Asma and Rufaida had arrived early from work, Nani too had joined them, as they worked tirelessly to welcome the most awaited guests. As the two older ladies busied themselves in the kitchen, preparing dishes that were already planned the previous night and grocery stocked, Rufaida made sure the house looked pleasant. A vase that had been abandoned in the corner was now proudly placed on the table, fresh flowers instantly lifting everyone's spirits.

When the time drew closer, Asma ushered Rufaida to get dressed. Ever since Zainab's phone call, they'd been working in hyper mode, there was so much to do in such less time. As they went about planning and executing, Rufaida barely found a moment to gather her thoughts, but now, as she draped her hijab, securing it in place, she glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror and the image that stared right back was unrecognizable.

Rufaida was happy, truly and genuinely, happiness that reached her heart and tingled her nerves. Although she was tired due to all the extra work, exhausted because she'd been barely able to sleep due to a foreign excitement she wasn't used to that coursed through her veins, the only emotion that she recognized at that moment was happiness. She'd been wounded in the past, she had cried in places people were meant to smile, she'd mourned the loss of things people held in their palms without recognizing the blessing, but finally, the rewards were flowing in and her heart bowed in gratitude to its Lord.

Eventually, the clock struck 5, the bell chimed with the news of changing times, the most anticipated visitors walked inside, and sitting in her bedroom, Rufaida heard the formal pleasantries that were being exchanged among the elders.

It wasn't long before Asma hinted for her to step out, and as Rufaida stepped into the living room, she realized for the first time in life, she was nervous because of a guy.

She mumbled her salam, as she politely greeted and smiled at Zainab, Tammara and Afreen, while she carefully avoided looking at the only man in the room, for he was the reason for the skipping beats of her heart.

"Faru, you've met her before, say salam," Afreen urged while Fariha smiled shyly, hiding behind her mother upon becoming the center of attention.

"Fari," Tammara encouraged, caressing her cheek and patting her back so she'd step up and greet Rufaida.

Giggling to herself, Fariha finally walked to her, and sticking out her hand for a shake, she mumbled her salam.

"Wa alaikum as salam, Fariha," Rufaida smiled, making space for her beside her. "How have you been?"

"Good," she replied, getting a little more comfortable than she was previously. "Can I come to Zaika tomorrow and help you decorate cupcakes?" She questioned, remembering her previous visit, and realizing she didn't have to know that Rufaida did not work there anymore, the latter replied, "Sure, in sha Allah, you could drop by after school, Fariha."

The little exchange served as a pleasant ice breaker as Tammara questioned Rufaida on her work and hobbies, Zainab, who was in conversation with Asma too shot a few questions, all the while as Afreen and Ahmed conversed with Nani.

Rufaida carefully avoided Ahmed the entire time, feeling slightly awkward and flustered with their current situation. The few formal encounters they'd had at Zaika felt non-existent as the two sat there like it was the first time they were seeing each other, discussing a topic that was so personal and sacred.

In the middle of sipping tea, Ahmed subtly glanced at Afreen and raised his eyebrows, and taking the hint, Afreen whispered something in Tammara's ears. Tammara looked at Zainab and the lady in question nodded, and Tammara thus put forward a question that was actually Ahmed's request.

"Asma Aunty, if you don't mind, could Ahmed and Rufaida talk to each other? Somewhere they're more comfortable perhaps?"

Nodding encouragingly, Asma replied, "Yes, please. Come with me, Ahmed."

Asma had already anticipated this, which is why she had arranged for two chairs beforehand in Rufaida's room. Their house was rather small, and the door would obviously be left wide open, ensuring the Islamic protocol was followed, and Ahmed and Rufaida, despite sitting in a room that offered privacy, could still easily be under the gaze of the elders, and the conversation wouldn't be out of earshot.

So now, as Rufaida trailed behind Ahmed who was accompanied by her mother, every cell in her body experienced an emotion heightened infinite times. Ahmed, on the other hand, took his time to etch each moment, each action, every glance, and every smile to his memory. He had prayed for this, and the desperation of his heart that was uttered on the earth, amidst several other people who asked Allah for things, in between the million pleas and sounds in the land, was still heard by The Majestic Lord above. So many blessings, little did we give thanks!

Ahmed and Rufaida eventually occupied their seat, facing each other with a permissible distance. The flowers that had bloomed in the pots that Asma tended to in their front yard peeked through Rufaida's window, smiling at the silent exchange between two hearts that had longed and prayed for this, yet pretended as if it was a meeting arranged by their elders.

But the truth was, there's so much that they knew about each other. Rufaida was certain that Ahmed was the reason his elite family happened to be seated in their humble home today, she knew he certainly felt something for her to have voluntarily moved mountains to make this possible. While Ahmed, having heard so much through Afreen, had an idea that despite turning down several proposals, if Rufaida had agreed for this meeting, she surely was treading a similar path that he was on.

The encounter would easily pass as an arranged affair, but only their hearts recognized it was so much beyond that, for both had begun to like each other, a reality that their tongues wouldn't confess just yet.

"Pretty sure when our Entrepreneurship lecturer used us as dummies, this is not how she would have expected her prediction to unfold," Ahmed joked, and Rufaida found herself stifle a laugh at his unexpected attempt to ease the tension between them.

He looked at her with a smile, and she smiled back and as she glanced at him for the first time that evening, her mind subconsciously registered that wearing a crisp white button-down shirt, there's no one else who could carry that color as royally as Ahmed did.

"How have you been?" He further asked, interrupting her thoughts, his tone polite.

"Alhamdulilah, I've been good," Rufaida responded, clasping her hands in her lap.

She wondered how her previous nervousness had so easily dissipated but then realized that her heart that had been doing somersaults when she'd first stepped in with him, was gradually becoming calm. There was an entire zoo in her stomach, and that was natural, but what overpowered the jitters was the certainty in her heart. She had entrusted her matters in Allah's Hands and now that these blessings were coming straight through Allah, it was such a sweet feeling.

"I wanted to ask you," Ahmed started, a bit more seriously this time, and Rufaid paid close attention to him. "When you think of the future, what comes to your mind? How do you imagine yourself?"

The question made Rufaida contemplate her answer for a few seconds, before she replied, "I hope to see myself as someone who is closer to Allah than I am now. A believer strives to be better everyday, and it worries me at times when I think of this, because the daily affairs of life can suck you in its routine format, and it gets hard to stay connected. I fear going away from Islam, of not being steadfast, which is why I pray to Allah that today if He allows me to be a good Muslim, tomorrow He should enable me to be a better Muslim. Islam is the only anchor that keeps me sane in midst of insanity, and I pray Allah never takes away the light of Imaan from our hearts."

Ahmed analyzed her answer, and nodded his head, silently approving her thoughts. Rufaida, if she was being absolutely honest, was intimidated by this side of Ahmed. She knew how seriously he took his religion, and she almost found him strict. She observed him silently from the corner of her eyes until he courteously fired his next question.

"What's one aspect of Islam that you love the most? Of course, there are so many good things, but what's the first thing that comes to your mind, one that you relate to at a deeper level?"

"I love the fact that Islam is a religion based on intentions, and you're continuously rewarded for every good deed you commit. It teaches you that if your heart is in the right place, then people and their judgments are insignificant. Besides, it's such an honor that through the Qur'an and sunnah, we're given a manual to live life by. Initially, it may seem overwhelming, the world has normalized haraam to the extent that it may make you think you're missing out on all the good stuff, but when you sit and carefully infer the ill effects it has, you'll conclude that Allah made certain things haraam for our well being. And by staying away from it, we're following a command of Allah that was formulated in our favor."

"Right," Ahmed agreed, convinced with the answers he received. After a moment's pause, he questioned, "Is there something you'd like to ask me?"

"Yes," Rufaida affirmed. "What are the three most important characteristics you think one must possess to live a good life?"

Smiling at the question, because it was just so Rufaida-ish, he replied, "Gratitude, kindness, and humility."

Short and brief, it was just the answer Rufaida was looking for.

They conversed a bit further, and with every word they exchanged, both Ahmed and Rufaida were all the more sure of their decision. It didn't escape either of their notice that conversation flowed effortlessly, it was so easy to talk to each other as if it wasn't the first time they were doing this. Both came from different backgrounds and had different fields of interest, but their souls just clicked, as if they belonged in a different realm, just the two of them, and nothing else mattered. They had similar priorities when it came to their religion, they had similar goals and it was such a blessing to have found each other, to be on the same page as the other.

A few minutes later, Afreen knocked on the already open door, drawing their attention.

"Am I allowed to interrupt you?" She grinned, looking between them.

"You don't even need permission, Afreen," Ahmed responded, a little annoyed that this was his cue to cut short the conversation and get going.

Clearing her throat, she looked at Rufaida, and teased, "So, Rufi..."

"Yes, Afreen," Rufaida smiled coyly.

"Remember those times you had the whole men are trash attitude?" She pulled her leg.

"Not really," Rufaida played along. "It wasn't for the entire male species," she justified.

"But most of them," Afreen jested.

When Rufaida smiled in reply, Afreen observed, "Nice to see my brother could change your perspective."

Rufaida's cheeks tinged at the comment, as Ahmed found himself secretly amused by the reaction.

"I must probably get going," he stated shortly after that, realizing it didn't seem appropriate to be seated there anymore. "Assalamu Alaikum," he greeted Rufaida as he proceeded to leave.

"Wa Alaikum as salam," she replied, neither of them looking at each other this time around, suddenly the weight of the situation, and the chastity of the relationship they were getting into making them conscious.

When they returned to the living room, Ahmed's family prepared to leave, and as they exchanged goodbyes, Ahmed and Rufaida mindfully avoided meeting each other's eyes. However, after Ahmed had said his salam to Asma and Nani and proceeded towards the door, Fariha walked up to Rufaida, and handed over a little card.

Slightly confused, and because it wasn't placed in an envelope, Rufaida flipped it open, and when she read the question written on it in Ahmed's neat handwriting, try as she might, despite the several people around, she could not stop herself from smiling an earnest smile that reached her eyes.

Breaking the record of dodging, both looked at each other for the slightest moment, and Rufaida's smile gave away her answer, and in the manner that Ahmed smiled back, she knew that he knew.

Fariha had once tossed an innocent query, and the earth had spun it in its orbit before finally delivering the answer.

Rufs, will you marry my Chachu?

Yes, yes, and yes.

***


The next day, Asma received a phone call that she had been expecting. However, what was told to her was something she wasn't entirely prepared for.

Having returned home, Zainab had discussed the matter with Ibrahim and Raiyyan and they reached a common understanding that this is what was written in Ahmed's fate. Zainab had been resisting even meeting Rufaida all this while because she knew the move in itself would be the initiation of marriage, it wasn't something that could be left at the casual level, unlike the proposals Ahmed had seen this far. And she was right because a sudden excitement encompassed the Siddique household as they discussed the wedding dates of Ahmed, the talks about 'is she really the one' had subsided and there was a level of certainty in everyone's hearts as they prepared their next move.

So as the decision was proclaimed to Asma over a phone call, the mother rushed to Rufaida, her excitement tangible.

"Zainab Bhabhi had called," she said, panting. Her heartbeat accelerating, Rufaida waited for her mother to continue. "She's invited us home tomorrow, said we could be introduced to the men of their family and also discuss the wedding dates."

"Okay..." Rufaida replied, processing the information.

"They want an early wedding," Asma added.

"How early?" Rufaida questioned, something about Asma's sneaky expression churning her stomach.

Grinning with exhilaration and nervousness, Asma said, "Afreen's wedding is due the Sunday after the next. Zainab Bhabhi asked me if we could host your wedding the Friday before that."

"That early?" Rufaida gasped, her eyes widening in pure surprise. "A wedding within 12 days?"

"I asked her the same thing, but I believe Ahmed is in a hurry," she smiled, causing Rufaida's head to go dizzy. "She said there was no reason to wait now that both families were positive of their decision. Ahmed is not the kind who'd like to interact on the phone without getting a nikah done, unlike several engaged couples these days. She also asked us to not worry about the preparations, they don't want a dawat from our side. They're just asking for a simple nikah in the Masjid, and they'd take care of hosting the Valima."

"Ammi," Rufaida gaped, absorbing what was told to her, although most of it didn't make sense. "All of this is going way too fast."

"Weddings are meant to be simple, beta," Asma reminded. "It's not necessary to make it so huge in your head. These days we're so focused on the wedding, we fail to recognize it's the marriage that needs our real energy and concentration. If we start making the halal difficult, that's when youngsters resort to haraam options. Besides, Rufi, nothing is going fast, it's all unfolding how Allah has planned it. Look at it this way, all these years of pain, sacrifices, and worship were accumulated with Allah, and now He, Al-Fattah, Has opened the door of your rewards, an answer to all our duas, so how then, can you question the pace at which all these blessings reach you? Sometimes Allah makes you wait for a very long time, but when He finally gives, the blessings are so immense and they flow so seamlessly, that they take away the bitterness of patience. Be grateful to Allah and let's start preparing, there's so much work..."

That night, when Rufaida went to bed, she didn't sleep a wink. Everything felt unreal and surreal as if she was living a dream. Her thoughts wandered to Ahmed, and as stumped as his decisions had left her, when she really thought about it, she realized this is exactly what she would have wanted too.

She had found the one beside whom she wished to walk in the Gardens of Eternity, and she wanted the journey to forever to begin already.

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