May 15th, 2016

This is sort of my favourite chapter. The title says it all. I love her raw yet tamed emotions. Writing this chapter felt lighter than other ones. And I've been following ALL your comments and been grinning to myself. That's another reason why I like writing Bee's story, the fact that so many of you can relate to it! Alhamdulilah! :)

"Men are the protectors and maintainers of women, because Allah has given the one more (strength) than the other, and because they support them from their means."

[Qur'an]

Chapter 6:

The Beginning to Ends

"One more week, isn't it?" Aamina questioned as they walked out from the third store.

"Yup. I've already submitted the papers," Anabya replied.

"You sure about this, Bee? I mean, the company you currently work at is quite good. Pay, work environment, distance from home, everything is in your favour. Then quitting the job after your bond is over is a risky step. What next?"

"I haven't planned about that, Bhabhi. All I know is that although it's a very good place to work there, I'm not satisfied. It isn't helping me grow."

It's doing quite the opposite, actually.

"Well, it's perfectly fine if you want to leave. But I just want to make sure that you're well aware of what you want."

"At this point, not really. I know what I don't want, but I don't know what I want."

Or maybe I want to run away from this mess. No, that doesn't mean I'm weak. It just means I'm too tired to cary these burdens. I'm not quiting. But I need rest.

"Do you want to pursue your masters degree?"

At the question, Anabya found herself thinking. It actually wasn't a bad idea after all.

"That actually sounds good. Mum always said she wanted me to do masters, maybe I'll just do that."

"You still have time, think about it it sha Allah," Aamina said. "And Bee?" Aamina called, and when she was sure that Anabya was giving her her full attention, she said, "Do it because you want to, okay?"

She smiled at that and nodded, before Aamina pointed out to another store she thought would help to end their hunt for a wedding gift.

Hafsa and Fadil's wedding was just a few days away and Anabya still hadn't found a gift for them. Accessories would be too girly, chocolates would be too boring and a couple watch was too mainstream.

As she looked around for wedding gifts, and was just about to give up, she heard Aamina's voice from one of the aisles parallel to where she stood.

"Bee, I think I found what you're looking for."

"Good. Because I was just about to give up," Anabya mumbled and when she joined Aamina, she carefully analyzed what her sister was looking at.

"What do you say?" Aamina asked, grinning as she ran her hand across it.

It was a glass box, as big as a photo frame, and inside it were the two pieces of a heart. Joined at just the tip at the base, the two pieces were away from the other but linked by a metallic rectangular piece, on which was engraved,

Distanced by world, United by love.

And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquillity in them; and He placed between you affection and mercy.

"I think it's perfect, Subhan Allah," Anabya finally whispered, not taking her eyes off the verse.

"Oh alhamdulilah," Aamina sighed, and suggested, "So we'll click a picture of this to show mom what we got and ask them to gift wrap it? You know, it will save us the trouble of buying gift wrapper later on and trying to pack it perfectly."

Anabya grinned at the suggestion, and replied, "That'll be great. I suck at gift wrapping anyway."

Aamina high fived her at that and once their present was neatly wrapped, they stopped by to buy some chaats before heading home.

Being a psychology major, she had, in her university, once learnt a very interesting theory of the stages of truth- ridicule, denial and acceptance.

When she had found out about Fadil's preference for Hafsa, at first, she had ridiculed the fact. She had hated how he had used her only to woo her friend. When her mind had toned down the frenzy, she was in denial. For about a year, she secretly hoped that it was just a phase that Fadil would pass and that spark of hope was kept alive.

Now, as she sat in her bedroom, just a few hours away from the wedding, she realised it was time for acceptance.

She walked up to her drawer and opened it, removing a very heavy piece of paper. Light in hand, heavy on heart was his wedding invite.

So long, she hadn't even looked towards it, but now, she mustered enough courage to open the envelop and see the wedding card.

It was beautiful. Simple, but beautiful. And against a sea green background, were the words in gold ink,

Fadil

weds

Hafsa

Anabya ran her fingers through those letters, hoping for that ink on paper to engrave the truth in her heart. She didn't cry, no tears came, that is, if you wouldn't count the inevitable silent weeping of that organ which claimed to be broken by now.

Once she had stared at the card long enough for reality to sink in, she finally logged into Facebook.

She had just tapped on the search bar when her search history was listed, one name standing out from the rest.

She would admit that she had shamelessly stalked him, keeping herself updated on all his activities. It was wrong on her part, she knew it, and here she was, making amends by clearing her entire search history till no name remained. It was as if he didn't exist.

Only if removing his name from the heart was as easy as clearing the search history on Facebook, she thought to herself.

She moved on to her next step. She opened her whatsapp and clicked on Fadil's name. Over there, she typed,

Hi Fadil. I just want to tell you that I never thought I'd reach a day when you'd become the reason for my misery. Do you even know how pathetic I feel right now? Like thanks for walking into my life without any warning. My world has gone haywire from then on but guess what? I think you aren't at fault after all.

I was the one who gave you the liberty to drive me crazy and this obviously has to stop, right this instant. Don't bother my rant, you're great the way you are (Ugh and that's the whole problem). I pray that you have a blessed marriage with the one you love and may you two be the coolness of each other's eyes. (Sorry, don't bother the wailing of my heart as I say this, it's reckless that way).

I'm glad that I'm finally spelling this out. Finally. We're over for good (Huh. Over? Not the right word to use since we didn't start anything. I did, you didn't.)

As you start your happy life with her, nothing really has changed in my life. I'm single. I feel disappointed. I'm hurt. Well, I think I'm going crazy.

But if you still insist that I tell you one good thing about all this, it's that I've never felt surer of Allah's plans than I do right now.

Good bye to the guy who unintentionally broke my heart, excuse me as I wait for Allah to put my life back on track and find the courage to dream once again.

- Anabya

Anabya smiled tersely as she read through the message and after highlighting her entire rant, she copied it to her virtual diary and deleted it from Whatsapp.

These words would yet again go down as words she'd never utter. A secret between her mind and heart, that was buried in the coffins of her keypad.

So many messages typed, all deleted before they were delivered. The phones keypad has been a witness to the emotions the heart felt, but couldn't muster enough courage to utter.

Sighing at her own thoughts, she finally got up to head towards the living room but on reaching there, she did not like what she heard.

"Come on, Furqaan you can't do this... how could you forget?... Seriously, what am I supposed to do in such a situation?... Fine, I'll do something... Yeah right, you better remember I'm too awesome for you... Enough of buttering me now, I'll grow fat. Chalo see you at home in sha Allah, drive safe. Assalamu alaikum."

As Aamina kept the phone, the huge smile that she had faltered seeing her little sister.

"So, Bee," she started carefully. "Furqaan just called. Well, he was supposed to drop you to the wedding venue tonight but..."

"He forgot and he's working late tonight?" Anabya asked, quite sure she had guessed it right.

"Umm, yeah. What now?"

"Nothing,"Anabya shrugged. "I won't go," she replied casually.

"You've got to be kidding me," Aamina shook her head. "I'm quite sure you've been looking forward to attend Hafsa's wedding, and you already bought her such a nice gift. You can't cancel it because of Furqaan."

"I don't have anyone to drop me and we all know mom would rather I sit at home than travel alone at this time."

It was at times like this where she could clearly see why guys had the upper hand. Of course it was for her own safety, but still, it didn't quite sit well with her that all her plans could go down the drain only because at the end moment, her brother had forgotten that she needed a ride.

But perhaps, it was wrong of her to complain, for it was stated in the Qur'an that men are the protectors and maintainers of women.

Men and women were made differently, and both had different jobs. Couldn't really contradict that.

After ten minutes of fussing and debating, where Aamina was obviously winning, Anabya's mom settled the argument.

"Aamina and I will come and drop you to the venue and Furqaan can pick you up when you're done."

"But ma-"

"No more discussion over this, Anabya. Just because your brother isn't here, does not mean you have to sacrifice on your happiness. We've raised you in a culture where we don't find it acceptable to send you alone that far after Magrib, but that does not mean we won't send you at all. Now go, get ready."

She had half a mind to argue that she wasn't going there for her happiness, that she just needed a reason to skip the wedding, however, she begrudgingly agreed to her mum and followed her orders.

Once she was dressed, and along with Sulaiman, her mother and Aamina had just stepped out of the door, the loud greeting of Tanzila caught their attention.

"Are you all going somewhere?" She questioned.

No. We like getting dressed in Abayas and walking around, Anabya mentally answered and immediately asked her mind to relax. It seemed like she was getting agitated for no reason at all.

Or too many reasons that couldn't be comprehended.

"Oh yes, Aunty. It's Anabya's friend's wedding and we're going to drop her."

"What? Really? We're also going to attend a wedding, he's Shamaaz's childhood friend."

"Hafsa and Fadil?" Aamina asked just to be sure and when Tanzila's eyes widened in surprise and she asked Aamina to give her a low five, a favourite among many desi Aunties, Anabya found herself panic.

No.

No.

Nooooooooooo.

And five minutes later, she found herself waving goodbye to her mum while squished between Aafia and Hussain as Shamaaz not so discreetly kept eyeing her through the mirror.

"So how do you know Hafsa, Anabya?" Tanzila asked, turning to face her while having occupied the passenger seat.

"We work at the same office, Aunty. We're good friends."

"Oh, office buddies! In that case you would also know Fadil. Ma sha Allah, what a wonderful boy, he's changed for good."

"Yes, he's my boss," Anabya replied, her cheeks tinging red as she uttered those words a bit awkwardly.

Shamaaz continued to decipher her reaction as he occasionally gazed at her, and he was suddenly met with a startling realization.

No freaking way.

She was the girl who had turned his friend to a freaking saint! 

Anabya. He had heard that name from Fadil. It had been only once but he was sure he had heard it.

"Dude! Are you seriously refusing a party offer? Fadil, it is with immense regret that I hereby declare that you have officially lost it!"

"Shut up, Shamaaz! All this does not interest me anymore."

"What exactly interests you, man? You aren't yourself."

"I worked hard to change, Shamaaz. My mum never really taught me that you could even live a life knowing Allah's watching you. For the longest of times, I was taught you are the master of your life. Quarter century later, I assure you, that's non sense."

"Certainly, your mother isn't teaching you all this, nor is your family. So from where did you pick up the inspiration to change?" Shamaaz had asked with a dramatic sigh.

"There's this girl," Fadil had said, his lips twitching as he tried to cover the lovesick smile.

"No, please no. Don't tell me there's this girl who gives you the inspiration to live a better life, believe in destiny, and you secretly plan to marry her," Shamaaz had cried. "Wake up, Fadil, wake up."

He had laughed at his friend's reaction and jokingly uttered, "Actually, there are two girls."

"What the heck is wrong with you? Here, take this cigrettte. You need to calm your mind."

"I'm kidding. Anabya's just helping me become a better Muslim. I actually like Hafsa, and in sha Allah, with her help, I hope to become the kind of man who's deserving of her."

"In a pathetic turn of events, what if you find out this Anabya likes you?  Why else would she help you?"

"Not everyone's like you, Shamaaz. Some people help with no ulterior motives."

"Yeah whatever. But I will admit, I don't like you becoming a boring moulana."

"And I will admit, I hate my previous self."

"Oh Allah!" Shamaaz had called, looking up to the sky. "You should have warned me before taking my friend away from this world."

Fadil had scowled and replied, "I'm not dead, you know? Who are you talking to in that case? My Jinn?"

"Nah. Jinns aren't so decent to act all lovestruck," he had huffed, before the topic of conversation had diverted to cricket.

And now, as Shamaaz realized, this Bya/ Bee was actually THAT Anabya, it caused a genuine question to arise in his mind. For a girl who didn't even look his way, what made her to actually interact with Fadil?

Well, this was interesting, he mused in his head.

Very, very interesting.

***

Biryani.

It was the top reason why people went to weddings. In fact, god forbid, if you were too late for the wedding and the food table was already set, then by all means, you'd definitely be seen in the dining area and everything else could wait. Of course, you would even meet the bride and congratulate her after eating her wedding biryani.

Biryani came first. It was always first.

And despite that, as Anabya sat around the food table, she could hardly swallow a morsel without resisting the urge to throw up.

She had been horribly wrong when she thought she could survive this.

The place had a huge stage with an even bigger hall and it was carefully separated into two equal halves for men and women. The dining areas were adjacent to it and as Anabya smiled at a colleague she knew from work, she realised, this was all she could take.

She pulled her phone out of her fancy clutch and texted her brother.

Bhai. Where are you? - Bee

Basking in the sun and stuffing my face with pizza? Most definitely not. Driving home with droopy eyes? Heck yeah. - Furqaan

Allah you're on your way back home? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? - Bee

Because I thought you have a ride back home. - Furqaan

Nooooooooo. Tanzila Aunty is staying back till the bidai and I want to come home now. Pick me on the way? Please? - Bee

Sorry sis, I already passed by that area and I'm not coming back. - Furqaan

FURQAAN BHAI PLEASEEEE. - Bee

You're disturbing me while driving. Don't you know a good citizen follows traffic rules? - Furqaan

All I know is that you are not a good citizen. - Bee

Yeah like criticising me is so going to convince me to drive back to pick you. - Furqaan

I'll give you lots of duas. Sulaiman will grow up to open a mutimillion cookie industry that serves world class chocolate cookies. May Allah bless you with many more pious children. May you be able to go for all the cricket matches during IPL. May Bhabhi and you go for Umrah soon. May your boss hike your salary. May he give you a promotion.

Now come and pick me!!!! - Bee

You know I was already on my way back to pick you up, you didn't need to type that long text. HOWEVER, Aameen to that. - Furqaan

You're awesome and you know it. - Bee

Will be there in ten. - Furqaan

As Anabya put her phone aside, she hadn't even realised she was smiling.

Family. They really were the only ones who had your back.

She walked in and after she had informed Tanzila that she was going back with Furqaan, she walked towards the stage to bid her final goodbye to Hafsa.

However, she stopped mid way when it registered to her it was that moment where Fadil was with her too.

They were smiling for pictures and when one of his relatives told him something with a teasing grin, Fadil leaned in and pecked Hafsa on the cheek, earning many cheers and whistles from their cousins.

Anabya immediately turned around, and maintaining a straight face, she walked out, ignoring the inner turmoil.

It's one thing to not have your love reciprocated. And it's another thing to pretend like it doesn't hurt as you see them happy with someone else, when all this while, you imagined that picture with you in it.

The journey back home was silent, or maybe she really didn't find in her to pay attention to what Furqaan was saying.

She felt lost, detached and hollow inside.

It was like she was in a cave, whose walls were closing in on her. An inch more and she would be crushed.

A heavy tear rolled down on her cheek as she sat in front of her diary that night, her pain flowing in words.

I know it's going to be alright. Many years later, I might look back to this and maybe find it silly. Maybe I'll have a better life, one that wasn't planned, but the kind that just happened. I know it. But right now, this moment, as the moon shines on me, the stars whisper their apology although they aren't at fault, the breeze that comforts me in a soothing embrace but despite all condolences, my heart finds no relief as it bleeds and bleeds some more- it is this moment that I wonder if I'll survive enough to see the future that holds surprises.

Because right now, I am done with the dreams of a happy life.