Bismillahir Rahmanir Raheem
Read the end note,please.
My eyes opened with the heat of the sun beating down on my face. The leathery car seat was burning my back. I sat up groggily. Ammi was looking straight ahead while Chachi was softly snoring. The driver’s eyes were fixed on the road.
We were heading home. Leaving my mother’s demons behind. Or rather Hanafa and Zunairah. Proof that we had never been enough for my father. I felt that swelling of hurt and softly said… Ya Wadoodu.. Calling to Allah The Most Loving….Allah, because i wanted His love to cover and wrap me up to the extent that there was no space for any hurt or hurt or deafening pain.
It was going to be a long trip…I quietly pulled out the diary from my bag. I glanced up to check that my mother wasn’t paying attention to me…Of course she wasn’t. Stupid me.
I opened the battered pages which looked like it had been touched and opened and pored over ,where a lifetime of secrets were confided. The loopy romantic font began…
Today I felt a strange sense of destiny. I was walking through the forest, escaping the wedding preparations of Rumana bhen.
Not that I minded but looking at her glowing face, I wondered why whoever came to propose for me, could never ignite my interest or create that glow on my face that I saw on my sister’s. Although I didn’t want the molvi type she was marrying. Definitely not!
He probably would make Rumana cover up and wear drab clothes. I bet he wouldn’t even let her join our festival in Spring, so boring.
She actually is not even having a mehndi night!! Its so ridiculous. Her future mother in law,said they won’t accept the invite for that because it was an unislamic practice that copied Hinduism. And then Rumana cancelled the party and asked the singers not to come. What sort of wedding is this? Like a mayyit.
When I asked her, why she cancelled it,she said with a smile, that after marriage she will have to change and she should start from now.
I’ll never change for anyone.
Anyways, I thought I’ll make a bouquet for Rumana from the forest. It was the least I could do to cheer her up because she was marrying such a dry man. No mehndi night. Hmpf.
While such thoughts distracted me, I didn’t see this fearsome hairy creature appear suddenly before me. The scream that tore from my throat echoed in the quiet forest.
Ibn Umar reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “Whoever imitates a people is one of them.” Source: Sunan Abu Dawud 4031.
For the sake of Allah,my respected sister let the instagram worthy dreams of a wedding go, the christian inspired white gown, the hindu inspired mehndi parties… Let us be so confident in our skins as Muslims,that we can be Muslims on the occasion of a Nikah. We don’t see others adopt Islamic practices in their weddings but we feel inferior in ours,enough to bring in their traditions.
Overseas trips to buy fabric for the gown while our families can’t make rent, six months of planning for a three hour event… does it make sense dear sister? And the bride has no idea of the skills and qualities needed to make a home.