May 11th, 2016**

Dedicated to bm3lover on insta. I don't know who you are on Wattpad but I love how much you appreciate my books alhamdulilah ♡

Anabya's diary writing is some serious business for me. It helps me show her vulnerable yet strong as she jots down every bit of her thoughts. Her thoughts in today's update is something I had written as my Facebook status years before Anabya's story even existed. And funny how this status is going down in her virtual diary, because I think it fit perfectly. And you'll probably see some similar scenes in her journal updates in future chapters as well. Anyways, apart from this extra info, I'm sorry it's a late update, but I hope you enjoy what you read in sha Allah :) (if you've PMed me, I apologise for the lack of response, my inbox is flooded and this will take me some time.)

"...Indeed, the patient will be given their reward without account."

[Qur'an]

Chapter 5:

The weight of an invite

In sha Allah, on the first of next month, we're meeting at my place. - Tam

Your place as in which place exactly? - Zia

And btw, today is 9th. Why SUCH an early invite? - Zia

What's that supposed to mean? - Tam

He means do you mean your past house or your present house lol. - Raiyyan

Hey you two, watch it! My mother's house is still my house although I live in my husband's house. - Tam

Yeah like that makes so much sense. - Furqaan

Totally got it.
.
.
.
Not. - Raiyyan

I'm already suffering from PGD. So if you love your face, I really think you two must get away from here. - Tam

What's PGD? - Zia

Must be something related to being pregnant. - Raiyyan

PGD - Punch Guys Disorder. - Tam

LOOOL. What's with the violence? I'm sure your definition of being cute would be to practice taekwondo with Raiyyan. :"D - Furqaan

Furqaan, you're not invited for our get together on Sunday. I will personally make sure that your entry is restricted. - Tam

I'd like to see you party without the boss B) - Furqaan

Boss? Oh please. I'm sure that was a typo. - Tam

My only prayer these days is that our baby does not learn this violence from his mom. ;) - Raiyyan

Hey Ray? :)))))) - Tam

Yes darling? - Raiyyan

Guess what? You're no longer invited. You can stay out with Furqaan. >.< - Tam

DID I JUST HERE PARTY? I'LL BE THERE. - Ahmed

Ahmediiii. Don't forget to get those one buck tamarind chocolates from near your college. - Tam

Dun dun done. I'll get ten for me and ask him to give one free which I'll give you. Hehahaha. - Ahmed

You don't even like them. – Afreen

Way to ruin the vibe, Afreen. – Ahmed

But honestly, I'm so glad we're having a get together. It's been forever since all of us met. - Zia

Yup it's been a while. Going by how busy everyone is, I thought we'd have our next get together in Anabya's wedding. - Furqaan

Oooooh. So have you guys found the one for her? - Safa

Nahhhh. Haven't come across someone her type yet. - Tam

I think it'll be the toughest to find a guy for her because she's so intricately built Subhan Allah. We need someone who can understand her for who she is. Our Bee is awesome and we need someone awesomer ;) - Afreen

Wow just came online after dressing up the little one to find some activity on our cousin's group. - Aamina

Totally agree to what you said, Afreen! - Safa

Welcome online, Bhabs. How's the munchkin? :p - Tam

The munchkin is trying to bite the pumpkin I purchased from the market LOL. - Aamina

Haha that rhymed. xD - Aamina

Aww that sounds so cute. I wanna see him. - Tam

Come home. - Aamina

Sunday in sha Allah :) - Tam

A few months back, we scooped the insides of the watermelon and sat Sulaiman in it and he looked so adorable ma sha Allah. He was biting and licking and what not. Check this out- Furqaan

OMG I want to eat that watermelon along with that cutie in it. – Tam

You baby eating pregnant woman! Get away from my son. :o – Furqaan

Anabya folded her prayer mat, and having kept it in its place, checked her phone. She had done the mistake of keeping her phone on ringing mode, and throughout the time she prayed Magrib Salah, she had regretted it.

Now, as she read through the messages of her slightly crazy cousins, she couldn't help but go from smiling to frowning when their banter had transformed into a discussion on her wedding.

She sighed loudly as she skipped through the messages and smiled as she scrolled through her hero's picture.

"Beephop?" Sulaiman called, interrupting her and Anabya looked up, grinning at him.

"Yes, my darling?"

He extended his right arm and replied, "Bow bow bite. He run jump Suwayman bite."

Anabya leaned in and kissed his cheek and still grinning, replied, "He didn't bite you, Sulaiman."

"Nooooooooo," Sulaiman shouted. "Bow bow bite. Bow bow Suwayman bite."

Anabya was trying to get his mind away from it when Furqaan poked his head in the room.

"Hey my man, daddy's home!"

"Abdy!" Sulaiman squealed, his version of abba and daddy as he ran towards his father and clutched his leg.

"Take him! Take him!" He demanded and Furqaan scooped up his little munchkin.

"How's my man? Did you trouble your Phop?"

"Nooooooooo."

"Why didn't you trouble her? Phops are meant to be troubled!" He joked, grinning at Anabya as he walked out of her room and she followed.

"It's enough that you've troubled your Aunts as a kid, Furqaan Bhai, don't teach your kid the same."

"Hey! He gotta be like his cool dad!" He boasted. "Or he'll become like his uncool mom," he whispered while sitting on the couch and placing Sulaiman on his lap.

"I heard that, Furqaan!" Aamina Bhabhi yelled from the dining area. "Uncool is it? I hope you stick to those words when I cancel our dinner date tomorrow."

"You will do no-"

"Oh and I'd also like you to stick to your words when I casually end up sending that picture of you -"

Furqaan hurriedly got up and covered Aamina's mouth with his hand, preventing her from uttering any more of his secrets.

"Which picture are you talking about, Bhabhi? I would love to see it," Anabya giggled.

"And you will see it over my deadbody!" Furqaan glared at Anabya. "Gross Aamy, stop licking my hand," he said taking his hand off her mouth and wiping it in her dupatta.

"Serves you right," Aamina Bhabhi teased.

"I bet you'll never use the word uncool in your life now," Anabya laughed.

"Betting is haraam," Furqaan scowled as he reoccupied the earlier abandoned couch just as Sulaiman turned.

"Bow bow bite!" Sulaiman said extending his arm to his dad just as his grandmother entered the living room.

"WHAT? A dog bit my son? Mama what's he saying? Aamina, please tell me it is not true. My poor baby."

"I shouldn't have come here, Anabya's mother replied and as she made her way back to her room, she said, "Everytime he sees me, he's reminded of it."

"What? So it's true?" Furqaan nearly fell off the couch while Anabya was too busy giggling over the drama queen aka Furqaan's antics.

"Calm down, Furqaan," Aamina said, handing him a glass of water which he refused.

"My son was bit by a dog and you want me to drink water! This is crazy!"

"And you're a drama queen," Aamina drawled, shaking her head at her husband. "You think I'd be so calm if something happened to YOUR son?"

"Oh!" Furqaan exclaimed, smiling guiltily. "So what's the story?"

"Mama took Sulaiman to the park today and a dog passed in front of him. From that time, he's been complaining and drawing attention to the little story he spun, bow bow bite, bow bow bite," Anabya narrated, squishing the cheeks of the little storyteller. "He's proving he's your son, Bhai."

Furqaan grinned wickedly and replied, "He proved he was my son when Aamina and I went to that restaurant the other day and these girls were all drooling over him. He takes that girl attention from his father."

"Seriously Furqaan? LIKE SERIOUSLY?" Aamina commented, looking at her husband with that do I even know you look. "How did I end up marrying a narcissistic?"

"Simple. You were one of those girls I previously mentioned," Furqaan smirked and Anabya couldn't help but laugh harder while Aamina looked like she didn't know if she should hit him or gag at him.

Just as she was about to leave, Furqaan caught his hand and kissed it. "Kidding," he winked causing Aamina to roll her eyes.

"You're still sleeping on the couch today."

"You know such threats don't affect me, Aamy, because you yourself can't stick to them," Furqaan smirked, easily ducking the punch that his wife aimed at him with a crimson face.

As they continued the rest of the conversation in their room, Anabya still found the remains of that smile lingering on her face.

Her brother and his wife were too cute for their own good.

However, the smile soon slipped off her face when her mother came back and announced,

"Come on children, it's about time we leave for the house warming!"

Anabya had tried convincing her mum several times, even coming up with bargains as absurd as doing the laundry with her hands when they already owned an automatic washing machine but she still hadn't got permission to not attend the party.

She hated parties. She hated how she had to smile at random people who she was meeting for the first and probably last time, or how she had to dodge questions from desi Aunties who, sporting extra sweet smiles, asked,

"So, beta, when will we get to eat your Shaadi's (wedding) biryani?"

She disliked how she was expected to behave like those girls who had the fake mode on, trying to leave an impression on prospective in-laws. For her introverted, reserved self, it was an absolute nightmare!

She despised how desi Aunty A hugged desi Aunty B as if seconds before, she wasn't giving her the once over and estimating her dress price and mocking her duplicate Louis Vuitton bag picked from streets.

For all the pomp and show, meeting and greeting, chatting and gossiping, she downright hated parties.

And ten minutes into this house warming, she was already thinking of ways to survive.

Although the same apartment, Tanzila's flat was quite different to theirs. More so because unlike their 3BHK, this was a duplex with two bedrooms down and two upstairs.

As Anabya sat in the furthest corner, desi music blaring from the speakers, men and women of all ages going around the house, she had two more reasons to hate the party: Mixed gathering and music.

As her mother sat with a set of Aunties, Furqaan and Aamina stood in the balcony, she groaned for the fifth time while stroking Sulaiman's back and trying to put him to sleep.

She occasionally looked over at girls, a lot of teenagers, and almost found it funny that even being younger to her, they could apply the eyeliner much better than her.

Kaajal and mascara were ok, but by all means, the eyeliner seemed to be at war with her. Every time she saw a tutorial to apply the winged eyeliner, she'd end up looking like a panda. It would start of fine, but then it would seem like the right eye's liner was thicker than left and when she'd try to thicken the stroke, the game would continue until the eyeliner strokes almost reached her eyebrows and she'd end up scrubbing her eyes of that cursed black stuff.

So far it went something like, Eyeliner: 100
Bee: 0

Anabya was broken from her thoughts when a girl, about ten years old, walked up to her and asked, "Are you baby Sulaiman's Aunt?"

"Yes," she replied, looking at her suspiciously.

The girl nervously tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and said, "Do you want anything? Ugh actually I'm one of the hosts and mom wants me to see that guests are comfortable. She said something like doing such things at my age would help me save boys for marriage later on. Gross. I don't even want to get married. I'm only ten!"

Anabya laughed at that and for the first time that evening, she didn't regret coming here.

"You're Tanzila Aunty's daughter, aren't you?"

"Yes. Do you think my mom is funny?"

"Umm well."

"You must think she's funny. Very funny."

"What's your name?" Anabya asked instead and the little girl contemplated before saying, "I'm Aafia."

"Lovely name."

"What's your name?"

"Anabya."

"Can we be friends?" Aafia asked timidly, stretching her little finger forward.

"Well, sure. But what am I supposed to do with this?" Anabya questioned, eyeing her little finger.

"You have to hug my pinky with your pinky and seal our friendship."

A smile, a genuine one, graced Anabya's lips as she gazed at her innocence and did as she was told.

"Anabya didi, come I'll take you to my room."

"Sure, but please don't call me didi."

"But you're elder to me and I can't take your name," Aafia replied, staring at her with her big black eyes.

"You can call me Bee."

"Bee as in buzzing Bee?"

"Bee as in just Bee," Anabya smiled.

As she got up with Sulaiman sleeping with his face on her shoulder, she had just turned to follow Aafia when she was met with a smirking figure.

"Bee, huh?" He asked, giving her the once over.

"Bee, that's my brother Shamaazai. You can call him Shamaaz. Shammazai, this is Bee."

"Nice to meet you, Bee," he grinned and Anabya looked around to see if any gossip Aunties were looking her way.

"It's Anabya," she corrected, asking Aafia to take her to her room.

"Bya?" Shamaaz pronounced, purposely trying to annoy her. "But I thought you were Bee. Nevermind, I'll just call you Bya."

"I'd rather you don't call me anything."

"Oh come on Bya, we're neighbours, I gotta give you a name."

"It's not Bya," Anabya gritted out.

"Oh yup sorry, so Bee, I was saying-"

"Aafia, could you please take me to your room?"

The little girl giggled at her elder brother's antics and holding her hand, guided her inside.

Her moment of solitude and peace was short lived as Tanzila came barging in and Anabya was actually frightened looking at her expression.

She furiously opened a drawer and Aafia asked, "Mama, what happened?"

"What happened?The people of this world are bonkers. That Mrs. Leela who doesn't even know the difference between lipstick and lip gloss was telling me my lip liner is too dark. That senseless woman, she has no idea what she's talking about. Her own dress is a cheap copy of a famous designer's masterpiece. Who gets so dressed for a simple dinner? Looking at her you'd think as if people have not come to watch our house but to see her."    

"Mama, you're messing my drawer, what do you want?"

Tanzila paused in her hunt and said, "Great. I forgot what I wanted."

As she turned around and finally registered that Aafia wasn't alone, she looked at Anabya for the first time that day, and said,

"Oh Anabya, I'm so glad you came. I feel honoured. Aamina was looking for you, they were about to have dinner. You must join them."

"Oh yes Aunty actually I was kind of going..."

"Let the baby sleep here peacefully while you have dinner. And listen?"

"Yes Aunty?"

"Don't go near Mrs. Leela."

"I don't know her," Anabya replied quizzically and Tanzila quickly described,

"Oh she's that lady dressed as if she's come to Cannes film festival, strutting as if she's not going to turn fifty very soon. Stay away from her or she'll tell you to remove your Abaya and then comment on your dress. She's short and stout, and she has a big tummy as if she was carrying-"

"Ugh I got it Aunty, I'll umm stay away from her," Anabya cut her off awkwardly, growing uncomfortable with the offensive description.

"Good. Aafia show her to the food table, her family is waiting for her. I hope you have fun, sweetheart," Tanzila smiled before sprinting out and Anabya took in all that just happened.

"I told you my mama is funny," Aafia giggled and once Anabya was sure it was safe to leave Sulaiman there, she headed to join her family for dinner.

It was an hour later that she was finally allowed to leave that horrendously claustrophobic atmosphere. Although her family was still here, since Sulaiman had woken up crying and the fact that he needed a diaper change made for the perfect excuse.

She had just left the door, consoling a wailing Sulaiman when her eyes landed on a guy and girl seated on the stairs outside, laughing over something hilarious.

And although she didn't recognise the girl, the guy had to be no one but the area's infamous flirt himself.

She pretended to ignore them and kept walking when the voice stopped her.

"Hey Bya, leaving already?" He questioned, as if he couldn't see for himself.

She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt to make conversation and heard the girl beside him say,

"Bya? What sort of a name is that?"

"That's our little secret," Shamaaz boasted, trying to show as if the two were really close buddies.

Anabya thought she should continue walking, but since this was the perfect time to put the flirt boy in his place, she turned to the girl and replied,

"We're no buddies. I don't even know him and he doesn't get the hint that he needs to stay away from me."

Shamaaz clutched his heart and said, "It's alright, Shireen. I'll be ok. Although I'm dying inside by my first rejection from a girl, I'll be okay."

As he pretended to wipe a fake tear, he grinned at Anabya who walked ahead with a huff.

This guy was all sorts of crazy and he didn't know, Bee was allergic to that category.

***

The next two weeks passed with no much activity and Anabya was on a personal mission to immerse herself in so much work, shouldering all of Hafsa's projects since she wasn't coming here till the wedding, so she wouldn't get time to think of anything that was capable of hurting her.

By the time she would get to bed, she'd be so tried that after everything her heart had been through in the previous nights, there was no time for repeat episodes of tears and apparent heartaches.

She'd immediately fall asleep and slumber, she had come to realize, was the easiest escape.

Save those nightmares that would haunt her even in her sleep.

She hadn't met Hafsa in a week, and believe it or not, it actually helped her. By not meeting her, she was able to momentarily bury her fears and scars. The wounds were fresh as ever, but if they weren't healing, at least they didn't get deeper.

"Anabya?"

Anabya looked up from the file she was going through to find Fadil in front of her, and when her heart fluttered a tad bit at the sight of him, she sighed.

Why heart? Just why?

"Assalamu alaikum," she greeted, trying to sound as professional as ever.

"Wa alaikum as salaam," Fadil replied, scratching his head nervously and then stretching a card to her. "Umm so, this is our wedding card," he explained, bringing a shimmery green card in front.

As she accepted the wedding card with shaky fingers, she hadn't thought a simple paper could ever weigh this heavy on her heart.

"I know Hafsa would have invited you already and you'll definitely be coming, but I wanted to personally invite you to the wedding, after all that you've done for me. For us. So Anabya, please be there, it will be a pleasure to have you join us on our big day."

Anabya blinked back the tears, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat at his little speech.

He had no idea how much his words hurt her, did he?

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"In sha Allah, I'll be there," she finally uttered, her tone firm and steady, unlike her heart. "And Fadil, please stop talking so highly of me, I haven't done anything."

"Oh please, you've had a huge influence in my life, and seriously, thank you."

Anabya nodded, not willing to continue this conversation any further and as Fadil went around inviting other colleagues, without taking a second look at the card, she shoved it inside her bag.

As she carried on with her work, Fadil's last statement kept replaying in her head.

He was probably thanking me for breaking my own heart.

As she regarded this a test of her patience, she thought back to her childhood days when she couldn't, for the life of her, understand why patience was such an important part of Islam.

It had taken her a heartbreak to finally reach an answer, and as she wrote in her virtual diary, she had finally understood it to the t.

Growing up, I sometimes wondered why the Qur'an stressed, emphasised and encouraged one to be patient. My little mind could never wrap itself around the idea that patience was the best of qualities practiced by very few.

'How difficult can it even get? It can't be that tough after all,' I used to think.

However, as I've started to come to terms with the dimensions of the world, I realize the perfection behind Allah's words. I realize the Wisdom behind Him asking us to practice patience.

When I feel like giving up, and I'm just so annoyed with everything I do wrong, I know there's a reason why it's been said, "...Indeed, the patient will be given their reward without account." and so, I ask myself to keep going.

When I feel like none of my wishes are granted, and the fear of the future overshadows me, I'm reminded, "and be patient. Indeed, Allah is with the patient."

When my problems seem as big as the mountains and there are no solutions in sight, I'm asked to "...seek assistance through patience and prayer..."

When I've lost all hope, the past seems dark and the future looks bleak, when nothing is in place, the world is about to crumble at my feet, and my patience is wearing thin, I'm reminded that in Jannah, I will be rewarded for my patience.

"...And the angels will enter upon them from every gate, [saying], "Peace be upon you for what you patiently endured. And excellent is the final home."

And thus, I've understood. When my plans don't work and my dreams seem to be dying slowly, when there are more wrongs than right and more loopholes than the road itself, that's when I need to practice patience. And that'll lead me to my destination.

Jannah. Where sadness will have no place and joy will know no bound. Where there would be nothing fake and life would go on... forever and ever and ever.

And for this reason, may Allah make me among the patient ones, facing each calamity with a smile, never losing hope in His promise.

"...but give glad tidings to those who patiently persevere – who say, when afflicted with calamity: 'To Allah we belong, and to Him is our return' – they are those on whom [descend] blessings from their Lord, and Mercy and they are the ones that receive guidance."