December 28th, 2016

Do they not know that it is Allah who accepts repentance from His servants and receives charities and that it is Allah who is the Accepting ofrepentance, the Merciful?

[Qur'an]

Chapter 14:

Say What?

"I still feel you settled down too fast," Shamaaz said, lighting a cigarette as he inhaled the air.

"I didn't see the point in waiting after I found the right girl," Fadil replied, grimacing at the amount of smoke that polluted the earlier clean air. "Would you stop attempting to die of cancer?" He asked.

"One cigarette isn't going to kill you."

"One cigarette won't, but its addiction will."

"Who says I'm addicted?"

"... says every addict," Fadil replied, rolling his eyes. "What's got you this stressed anyway?"

"I hate going to University for those stupid back logs! I can't believe that old man had to bring in the new rule this year!"

"While I know you hate it, is that the only reason for your sour mood?"

"Mariam asked me to go on a date with her," Shamaaz started.

"And here I was thinking you had some serious issues."

"This is serious!" Shamaaz insisted. "She wrote me a super cheesy letter."

"Considering that you fell for her, I'm sure it must have been super cheesy!"

"She didn't write it herself, someone else did. I must say, she was very eloquent. She wrote it just the way you'd expect Mariam to."

"You seem impressed."

"She's good at writing, I don't know if she knows it. You know how it is, sometimes you get so held up in academics and books, you forget to credit yourself for the talents you have. I mean, look at me. I have no regrets for having shortage of attendance and ending up with these back logs. The training I received for cricket was worth it. I hope she knows that she has scope in writing."

"Ok, let me guess. You fell for the girl who wrote the letter?"

"WHAT?" Shamaaz all but shouted. "That's insane. I didn't even think about it."

"Then why are we discussing the girl who wrote the letter instead of the girl who gave the letter?"

"I was just stating my thoughts, don't need to get deep," he replied. "Fadil, you know how I've been rejecting girls all my life, right?"

"Of course, playboy. It's been your job to flirt but never get into a serious relationship."

"You don't have to throw it in my face, you know," he sulked. "Who wants to get committed, anyway."

"Alright, go on."

"I don't feel like rejecting such Mariam's offer. She has a nice personality, and you can see it in her eyes that she likes me. And she's hot, so, you get the point! A complete package!"

"So you think you're in love?"

"Oh oh! Please, cool it! That's too far. I'm just thinking of giving it a try."

"You want to try falling in love?" Fadil laughed.

"I still don't understand how you people say love is something that just happens without realizing. What nonsense. I've met plenty of girls and it never happened out of the blue. No harm in trying, right?"

"That obviously means you haven't met the right girl yet."

"Mariam is the right girl, I'm getting that feeling, you don't understand."

"Jokes apart, Shamaaz, I'd warn you to not get into all this. If you're seeking for a relationship, you better get married. And since I know you see that as something very far, you're better off staying single."

"I'm talking to the wrong person," Shamaaz drawled, shaking his head.

"There's no one who can give you a better advice."

"Ok, Moulana ji, advice taken," Shamaaz started seriously, and then grinned,

"What do you think I should wear for my first date?"

"You're impossible," Fadil commented. "I don't even know what girls see in you."

"As if you don't know. I wouldn't want to praise myself, so I'll let the comment slide."

"Oh how very modest of you, my boy!"

"I know right? My humbleness aside, can we please go eat? I'm starving."

"Me too. Do you wanna go to the cafe down the road?"

"Sure," he said and just as they proceeded towards it, the adhaan rang in their ears.

"We might as well pray and then eat," Shamaaz suggested, and Fadil nodded, wheeling the car to the Masjid.

Those who sin, pray. Those who pray, also sin. But blessed are those who see the effects of prayer in their life, those who repent with the hope of not repeating, instead of those who sin with the thought of repenting later.

***

"It's raining, It's pouring,
the old man is snoring,
He went to bed and bumped his head
And couldn't get up in the morning."

"Raiwing, powing, swowing!" Sulaiman squealed, and forced Anabya to repeat the rhyme once again.

"Once more?" She whined. "Well, how about we play?" She asked her nephew as they stepped into the park. "I'm gonna catch you," she said dramatically and while Sulaiman laughed and ran with full force, she jogged behind him, pretending like he was too fast for her to reach.

They ran one full circle before she finally encircled her arms around him. "Caught you," she exclaimed, kissing his cheeks and causing him to emerge in another bought of excited squeals.

"Does Sulaiman want to go on the swings now?" She asked and he ran towards it in reply.

Pushing her nephew's swing, a content smile graced her lips, the light breeze touching her face adding on to the serene atmosphere. Evenings, by far, were the best part of her days. She loved her play dates with her nephew and although she was a lazy bum, she enjoyed coming to the park with him.

While she spent not more than thirty to forty minutes here, it was sufficient therapy. With the approaching dusk, she adored the last few rays of sunshine. Sure, it would turn dark soon, but the end of the day promised a new beginning.

After playing in the swings, Sulaiman insisted on playing with the twins who lived in another apartment but shared the same compound. Anabya resorted to engaging in light conversation with their mother and since it was nearing Maghrib, they called it a day and headed to their respective apartments.

"Bee Phop, I keam?" Sulaiman asked on their way.

"There's some ice cream in the fridge, we'll go home and have. Ok?"

"Ok!" He replied, and Anabya couldn't help but smile seeing his cheerful mood.

When they reached home, even before she could step in, Anabya found the door ajar and she stopped midway.

When she spotted Shamaaz inside, she quickly stepped back and prayed that Sulaiman wouldn't question her. He was too busy fidgeting with the button on his shirt anyway.

"...you simply took the trouble, Shamaaz, I could have carried it, it was the matter of one floor."

"They were quite heavy, Aunty, and I didn't mind. I had to take the stairs too, thanks to the elevator. Oh which reminds me, what's wrong with it?"

"I don't know. The lady upstairs was saying the electrician was supposed to come yesterday but see, it's been one full day and he still hasn't come."

"I hope he comes soon."

"But I'm sure it doesn't bother you much, you must be used to the exercise."

"That's true. I mean, in our training sessions we do fifty push ups at a time, so it's nothing big," he answered oh so modestly.

"Nice, nice. Would you like to have something, beta?"

"Oh no, that's alright. I'm actually getting late, so I better get going."

'About time,' Anabya thought and pressed her back to the wall, hoping that he wouldn't see her. Technically, she had nothing to worry about. After all, she was going to her house and it's not like he could harm her in anyway. But the thing is, she totally abhorred even seeing his face, and she'd rather hide than go in and face him.

Once she was confident that he had gone, she finally stepped inside.

"Bee Phop, peekooboo?" Sulaiman asked when she headed home and she laughed.

What a smart little boy!

"Something like that," she answered.

She sat with her mum and Bhabhi for the next hour after Magrib as they discussed about a wedding of a far away relative. Once they had decided on the dates to leave and arrive, Anabya walked in to fetch her laptop.

It had been a while since she wrote something in her journal, and today was one of those days she wanted to fill it with her thoughts. She'd admit that writing her thoughts in a journal she wished to share with none, was terrifying. It meant giving power to her thoughts by putting them in words. However, it was liberating at the same time. It felt good to pour your heart out, it was exhilarating in a way that only few people could relate to.

For others, they were just words. But for her, an escape.

With that thought in mind, she opened her journal. She was going through her previous entry when something seemed out of place with the notification that popped up.

Welcome back!

Pick up where you left off: 3 days ago

She was a hundred percent sure she hadn't written anything the past ten days. Forget writing, she hadn't found the need to even login to her laptop, let alone use the most precious document on it.

A hundred thoughts whirled through her mind and she tried to calm all of them. No one used her laptop at home, so it had to be a mistake. And even if they did, they'd never open her documents. It had to be an error but she just knew there was something more to it.

It was hard to explain what she felt that second.

Her heart had picked up speed and she was biting her lip so forcefully, submerged in critical thinking, that it could bleed.

She couldn't even imagine someone going through the thoughts that at one point, even she couldn't come to terms with. She had poured her heart out in those pages, she had her life's secrets in them. Her vulnerabilities, her worries, her sufferings, her pain, her heartbreak, her recovery, her moments of happiness - every detail was etched in her journal.

She calmed her mind, and willed herself to take it easy.

Since she couldn't accept that it was a mere mistake, testing her luck, she walked to her mum, trying to maintain a calm stance.

"Anabya, go give this to Tanzila Aunty. And then, set the table for dinner. Furqaan must be on his way."

"Yeah, and he's so hungry he told me he could eat a horse!" Aamina grinned from where she was frying the marinated chicken.

Anabya forced a laugh and as she placed the dishes on the table, she replied, "Mom, I'm not going to their house.

"Fine, I'll give it myself," she answered.

A good two minutes passed in silence before Anabya asked, "Mom, did you by any chance use my laptop?"

"No, why would I? And honestly speaking, I don't even understand all its functions. My phone is more than enough."

"Oh yeah I forgot," she replied. She wanted to ask Aamina if she had used it, but she didn't know how. She didn't want to offend her and in all honesty, she wouldn't mind her using it. She was worried of only one thing.

As if answering her unspoken thoughts, Aamina said, "I don't think anyone used it, Bee. Why? Is something missing?"

"Nah, nothing," Anabya brushed it aside, sighing in relief.

It must have been some error, or for all you know, the date and timing settings would have magically change.

Never mind!

While she popped in a piece of fried chicken, her mother said,

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. The other day when you had gone to college, Aafia had come home."

Had the world stilled or was it only her?

"And?" She questioned.

"She said their laptop charger wasn't working and she needed the laptop for an urgent assignment. She asked so innocently, I couldn't refuse."

"So I suppose you gave her my laptop?" Anabya asked ever so calmly.

"I did. She took it only for a couple of hours. Why? Is something wrong?"

"Ma, laptop is something that is personal," she tried to explain. "You share private documents on it, you just can't give it to anyone who asks."

"Look at this girl," her mother answered, dismissing her reason. "I'm sure she didn't check your documents, Anabya."

"You shared my password with her?"

She laughed at that and said, "123 isn't exactly a secretive code, you know?"

In hindsight, keeping 123 as the password wasn't a smart decision. She should have kept it so complicated that no one could use it even if they tried.

Better still, she should have just enabled the touch pad.

Since her mum didn't really relate to the intensity of her situation, Aamina sympathized, "Bee, is everything alright? You seem worried."

"No Bhabhi, it's fine. I had a feeling someone used it, that's why I was questioning. Nothing else."

"You sure about it?"

"Absolutely," she smiled. "I'll just go and give this to Tanzila Aunty," she added, taking the dish from the table and heading to her neighbors.

Even before she could ring the bell, the door flung open.

It was Shamaaz, of course!

"Hey there, 'Bya!"

"Where's Aafia?"

"Ooooh someone seems disturbed?" He whistled, raising his brow in question.

She didn't reply, and waited for him to move out of the path so she could enter.

"I won't waste much of your time, since I don't have any," he started. "But just so you know, your letter was so tempting that I couldn't help but give in. We're going on our first date, for your information," he winked.

"I don't care," she muttered.

"Don't be jealous. You can join us, I'm sure Mariam wouldn't mind," he grinned as she dodged him and walked inside.

"Wish me luck!" He called behind her.

"You can jump in a well for all I care," she muttered to herself whilst he hurried to his date.

"Hey Anabya! How are you?"

"I'm good, Tanzila Aunty," Anabya smiled. "Mum gave this for you," she said, extending the dish.

"Oh that's so kind of her. Aafia was craving some dessert."

"I'm glad. Speaking of which, where's she? I don't see her around," she asked subtly.

"She's in her room. Hold on a sec, I'll call her."

"Oh no, that's alright. I'll go meet her myself, if you don't mind, that is."

"Of course, she'd be happy to see you."

Smiling, Anabya walked to Aafia. On her way, however, she almost got a heart attack when a clown appeared out of nowhere.

"Your face!" Hussain exclaimed, erupting in laughter while he removed the mask.

"You scared me!" She cried, placing a hand on her chest. "Throw that away. I hate clowns!"

"But why? Look, he's so nice. See," he said, shoving the mask in her face, causing her to step aside and rush to Aafia's room, much to the little boy's amusement.

"Assalamu alaikum, Aafia," Anabya greeted, peeking in.

"Bee Aapi? Wa alaikum as salaam. It's so good to see you!"

"Same," she nodded. After she had given her an entire recap of her day in school, Anabya asked, trying to be as casual as possible, "Hey, mum told me you had borrowed my laptop. Were you able to finish your assignments?"

"Thank you so much for that! Yes, it did help a lot."

"What was the assignment?"

"I had to make a presentation on tips to save water."

"Presentation as in a PPT?"

"Yeah."

"Not a Word document?"

"Nope."

Anabya stared at the little girl, and her innocence told her she wasn't lying. Aafia was a sweet little girl, Anabya knew she wouldn't go around stalking her documents.

"Alright," Anabya smiled.

It had to be a mistake, she was certain.

"My brother must be home now, I must get going. It's time for dinner," she later informed.

"Ok!" She answered.

As Anabya got up to leave, Aafia said,

"Aapi, if your assignments seem out of place you can ask Shamaazai. Since our laptop wasn't working, after I finished my presentation, he was using it for sometime."

"Shamaaz?"

"Yeah. My brother."

The same brother who is about to get killed.