Present Day

I've decided, there are no more good men in the world. If there are any, they're hiding.

I'm going back to Pakistan in a couple of weeks so I really don't see any point in having any more meetings. Besides, the others I've had have been enough for me!

Any guy who seemed decent either had one strange flaw or another or I was rejected by him. I sometimes wonder if my standards are too high but when I think about what I want, all it entails is a man who is practising and will let me visit Pakistan often. Ideally, I want someone who will move to Pakistan with us, but I doubt I'll find someone like that. So I think it would be better to marry in Pakistan.

"Okay, I won't arrange any other meetings after Saturday," Ummi replied when I voiced my thoughts to her.

Now it was Thursday and I was again preparing for another meeting. Again this man was coming on his own. There were a few who came with their families. There were also a few families who came without the guy. Some of the families were a little odd too, to me anyway.

This man's name was Mustafa. As a kid, I associated the name Mustafa with Mufasa from The Lion King and till this day, the name reminds me of Mufasa. A strong lion with a soft side, especially for his wife and son. I hope this Mustafa is something like Mufasa though I do regard my thoughts as absurd.

We're playing a game of Ludo when the bell rings. We cooked so much for the first few potentials who turned out to be incompatible early on that we decided that from now on, we'll just fry some samosas and make some tea for all other potentials. I had two second meetings in which we made meals but they didn't work out either. I didn't show my face for either of them, and I'm glad.

"It's Mustafa," Eliza says snapping me out of my thoughts as she looks down at her phone. Imran must have texted the confirmation.

"Okay," I reply, getting back to the game. I help Isa with his turn, helping him beat both myself and Eliza.

"Who's that?" Isa asks.

"Another one of uncle Imran's friends," I say, absentmindedly.

"He has a lot of friends!" Isa says. Unable to explain why there were so many men coming to our house these days, we told Isa they were all Imran's friends.

As we did all the other times, we wait a little while before we send Isa to meet this Mustafa.

"Come on girls! Start roasting the marinated chicken and defrost the samoses to fry them," Ummi instructs Eliza and I.

"Yes, Ummi," We say before forcing ourselves up.

It's during the end of our preparations that Isa comes back to the kitchen.

"Uncle Imran said to bring the food but his friend said no, there's no need to go through the trouble," Isa explains and I grin while pinching his cheek.

"How is uncle Imran's friend?" I ask and Isa smiles.

"He's okay," Isa says, shrugging.

This is already heading towards a no.

Where are the good men? Ya, Allah, please bring a good person for me to marry soon! This is taking too long.

"Sabrun jameelun," I say to myself, taking a deep breath.

"Huh?" Isa asks.

"It means beautiful patience. I need patience," I say and Isa looks at me confused before skipping back towards the front room.

"Hey, he didn't say anything bad," Eliza assures me.

"Isa likes people quickly. He didn't like this guy quick enough so sorry for being a sceptic," I say and Eliza rolls her eyes.

"He liked the student who wanted to marry you for a visa, Esha." Eliza reminds me. "His liking someone doesn't define their character."

"True," I reply though I'm still not expecting this to be a great experience.

Once the food is gone, I occupy myself by holding Sami while chatting to Eliza, waiting to be called in.

"Are you nervous?" Eliza asks.

"Should I try to be?" I ask and Eliza shakes her head at me. I don't know why I don't feel as nervous as I should. My life could be completely changing soon yet I feel too relaxed.

"Here's a text from Imran, you can go," Eliza says and I hand Sami over to her. She's no longer allowed at the meetings because one of the men preferred her over me though both our faces were covered. He said her eyes were prettier and Imran went red in the face with anger.

"That's my wife. Now you may leave," Imran had said to him and I had to hold back my laughter. The object of Imran's rage began stuttering and shaking before he stood up, politely saying he had to go and left.

Leaving Eliza, Ummi and I go the front room and we take a seat where we have done the previous times. We sit at the other end of the room, opposite this potential. I keep my gaze on the ground to appear shy.

"Asalamu'alaykum," The man says once we're seated.

"Wa'alaykumusalaam," Ummi and I reply. In the silence which follows, I look up to see that my description of what I thought a Mustafa looks like isn't too far off from this man. He's big. Not the fat kind of big but the strong big. His thobe sleeves are rolled up to show his slightly hairy arms which I really don't mind. His beard is also big, like a lion's mane!

Oh yes, he looks like he can be a Mufasa type character.

I remind myself to look away and focus my eyes on the ground again.

"You have a sweet son, masha'Allah. Very smart and well behaved," Mustafa comments and I thank him. That's how most conversations have started through my past meetings as well so it doesn't make me as hopeful as it did the first time.

"So what work do you do?" I ask, though I know it's something along the lines of owning a shop.

"Well, my work isn't great. I opened up an Islamic shop with books and Islamic clothing and such. It doesn't make a great amount of money but in'sha'Allah I'll be getting some reward out of it," He says and I nod. This sounds good so far.

"If you don't mind me asking, where are you from? I've noticed you have a slight accent and it sounds like it's mixed with a bit of American in it," I say though I know he's Pakistani. It doesn't exactly sound like a Pakistani accent. I notice Ummi doesn't even bother to pinch me for my bluntness. I think she's gotten used to me doing all the talking to get out information.

"Well, I was born and raised in Pakistan. We weren't wealthy but my parents spent a lot of money to put me and my sister in the best schools where we learnt English well," Mustafa explains.

"How did you end up in England?"

"I'll be completely honest with you. The grass is always greener on the other side. As a teen, you watch English or American shows and movies and everyone fills your mind with this idea that the west is this magical place where it's easy to become rich. I had a Nikah with my cousin and before anything could go further, some fights began over stupid things and I got fed up and broke the Nikah. That caused even more problems and I decided to come here. It was a long process but I made it only to realise, it's not as great as I thought. But I've learnt a lot since I came," Mustafa says. I look up to see his head down as he stares at his lap. He seems like he's quite shy and I feel bad for making assumptions about him.

"What are your plans for the future?" I ask and Mustafa brings his hand up to stroke his beard.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure. A part of me wants to give the shop away and move back. My mother and I miss each other terribly," He says with a sad smile. "But with the way I left things, I'm not sure if that's a good idea," He adds, a frown on his face.

"And why do you want to marry?" This sounds like a silly question but I'm genuinely curious.

"Why every man wants to marry," He says with a little chuckle which makes me smile.

"I mean, why do you want to marry here? If you want to go back, why don't you go back and marry?"

"Well, it's kind of tough. Whatever I go back and do, people will talk. So sometimes, I think it's best to stay. My mum wants me to marry whether it's here or there. She's getting impatient and though I'm still confused, I do think I'm ready to settle down. In fact, I'm hoping to meet the right person and have them help me." After saying this, Mustafa looks up at me for the first time and our eyes meet.

His eyes are so dark. It matches his beard and looks really cool. I look down after making this quick observation before thinking of another question.

"Where does Isa want to live after you marry?" Mustafa asks and I look up, surprised. His first question!

"I don't know, I haven't fully discussed it with him. He's only five, I don't know how to discuss such things with him," I say. I look over at Isa, immersed in playing with his lego in the corner of the room. From the previous meetings, I learnt that Isa gets bored in adults' conversations. Of course he would, so now there's always a distraction for him.

"He has a right to have an input in the plan. He may be a child, but now he's seen Pakistan and England and if you're not sure of where to live, then let Isa decide for you. Where you will live will shape him and affect his entire future," Mustafa says and I'm touched by his concern.

"Well, he's happy in Pakistan but I do worry sometimes. He's encountered a little racism and we have family who don't like us much there," I respond, thinking of Aunt Nyla and aunt Maha.

"Well, there's racism here too. And Islamophobia. Just the other day, someone called me a terrorist and began laughing as they ran off. And I'm not sure if you know about politics but recently, things have gotten worse for us Muslims. Think about it, the word terrorist is now associated with Muslims to the point that even I imagine a bearded man like myself when I hear the word. And they've passed this counter-terrorism bill which, to many of us, seems like it's targeting the Muslims. There's fear of extremism and radicalisation in the youth all around the UK so it's likely things may get worse," Mustafa says and I nod, intrigued by what he's saying. I decide that it's probably not the best thing for Isa to hear if he decides to listen so I send him to play upstairs with Farah. Once he's gone, I continue the conversation.

"I've heard bits and bobs of the politics but I never gave it much thought. I always knew Islamophobia was a problem but I didn't know there was a threat by the government to make it worse!"

"That's just a warning though. I don't know your situation in Pakistan so I really can't advise you on what's better for you."

"I'm starting to think we should all move to Pakistan," Imran says. "Or India. Whatever Eliza prefers."

"I wish I could say, let's move to Palestine. But that's probably a really bad idea. It's a shame, my father used to tell me how beautiful it once was," Ummi says, adding her input with a quiet voice and I hug her. She always gets emotional talking about Palestine. I really don't blame her.

"Let's just pray that what's left of Palestine stays and that the lives of its civilians improves, in'sha'Allah," Mustafa says and I realise that he doesn't seem to have anything about him that I dislike so far.

"Ameen," I say and Ummi and Imran repeat after me.

"If things are so bad here, then you should go back to Pakistan and marry," I say and Mustafa nods.

"You're probably right. Ideally, I want to get married here and take my wife back to Pakistan with me so there wouldn't be any drama when I get back. Not only would it be tough for me to marry there but the family of the woman I'll marry will be the object of a lot of gossip and I don't think they'd appreciate that. If your family's here and you're there, then your family won't be affected by the gossip. It's all a long complicated list of worries in my mind. I'm probably just paranoid." Mustafa goes a little red with embarrassment.

"No, I think I kind of understand what you mean. Is the whole concept of honour as followed by many in Pakistan?"

"If you can call it honour. Unfortunately, my extended family and a lot of people around the area I live have that idea of keeping a good reputation for the sake of honour and being a guy who's seen as breaking a Nikah with his cousin and running to England isn't exactly a good reputation. There are also tons of rumours about me which started from my cousins, tarnishing my name. If I marry there, they'll probably irritate my in-laws."

"Sounds very complicated. But I have a couple of aunts which like to stir things and such so I think I can relate to some level," I say, trying to understand Mustafa's situation. He must have people like Aunt Nyla and Aunt Maha in his life too, poor guy.

"Interesting," He replies. A silence follows.

"So you'd be fine with moving to Pakistan after marriage. I mean, that's your ideal situation, right?" I ask, suddenly making sense of things.

"Yeah, though that's unlikely."

"Wow!" I say and he looks up with a questioning glance before directing his gaze elsewhere. "You know what's more unlikely? Two people who meet in England, want to marry and move to Pakistan after doing so," I say, a huge grin on my face, hidden by the niqab.

"That's er... Wow indeed. What a crazy coincidence," He says.

"No, not coincidence! Fate," I correct him. "Everything is predestined by Allah, nothing is a coincidence." Mustafa smiles. I really feel like maybe this is it! I mean, how odd is this situation?

"You're right," He says and for the first time, I feel a weird sensation in my heart. He's still smiling and I see that his smile is an average smile, but one that I wouldn't mind seeing daily. It's warm.

"So where exactly are you from in Pakistan?" I ask.

"Karachi," He replies and I freeze.

"Where do you plan to move back to?" I'm starting to feel a little panicked.

"Karachi of course. That's where my parents are," He replies. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"Would you be willing to move anywhere else in Pakistan? Say, a village in Jhelum?"

"Ooh, that's far out. There wouldn't be any point in moving back if I move there. Besides, I believe Karachi has more to offer the youth," He comments and I shake my head.

"I'm never going to Karachi," I say and Mustafa looks up, confused.

"Why?" He asks and I struggle to reply.

"It's dangerous," I say.

"No it isn't. Well, it isn't as dangerous as the media make it. We live around the outskirts and none of my family have ever experienced the sort of things the news channels show."

"It is as dangerous as the media show it. You just don't know," I say, my voice going weaker.

"Why... Why would you say that?" Mustafa asks with concern. I look over at Ummi for help and she nods, saying the words I'm unable to say.

"Esha's first husband, Isa's father, passed away in a bomb blast in Karachi," Ummi tells Mustafa and he seems shocked.

"That's terrible. I'm so sorry! That's er... an unlikely situation to say the least," He says and I remain silent.

"So does this mean you'd be willing to move to Jhelum?" Imran asks for me.

"I'm afraid if I move back to Pakistan, it's going to be Karachi with my family," He says. "I'm so sorry for what happened to your husband but I assure you, the situation really isn't as bad as it seems. Especially the area we live in. Can you try to consider moving to Karachi? If you don't mind me saying, it would be great for Isa too if this is going to work out. We'll get our own house there, close by to my family so that Isa and any other future children would have a loving family close by," Mustafa says, trying to convince me but I shake my head.

"If you're adamant on moving to Karachi, then I'm afraid this won't work out. You seem like a really good guy and I had great hopes but I'm sorry," I respond.

I can feel a bit of heartbreak at this. From all the meetings I've had, this has been, by far, the best man. He's shown genuine concern for Isa and I find him attractive. I haven't found many, if any, of the previous men attractive. There have been ones better looking than him but none made me want to keep looking back at them.

But I just can't go back to Karachi. The mere name of the city causes fear in me. I understand his point of view and I don't want to stop him from going back to his mother.

"Can you please consider it?" He asks. Despite all the negative feelings in me, I hesitantly nod.

"Okay, fine. But only if you consider moving to Jhelum too," I say and he smiles.

"I'll think about it," He replies.

"Thank you."

"So... Any more questions?" Imran asks.

"I have one," I say.

"You're full of questions," Mustafa comments and try to stop a giggle escaping my lips.

"I know. You don't mind, do you?" He shakes his head so I ask my question. "If you've never been married properly before, then why are you willing to marry a widow with a son? Why not another woman with no children?"

"I prefer looking for a woman with a good character who will be a good wife and increase my iman and be slightly older and more mature. That's difficult enough as it is and I guess adding anything more to these standards will make it more difficult. I also like children, though I haven't been around many and I think I still have to learn how to act around them. But I wanted children before I wanted marriage," Mustafa says, his eyes crinkling as he chuckles.

"That's unusual," I say, grinning.

"I know. I blame my little sister. My mother wouldn't let me hold her in case I dropped her so I didn't get to learn how to take care of kids but I found them adorable. Especially my little sister. She's a decade younger than me and she was so chubby and then she started losing weight as a teen."

"I've been trying to make Isa chubby since he lost weight at the age of three but the boy has too much energy!"

"My sister was always a bit lazy until she suddenly got obsessed with weightloss. I thought it was ridiculous," He says.

"Sounds like Eliza when she got married," I comment and Imran grins.

"That was annoying," Imran says. "Eliza's my wife, Esha's sister," Imran tells Mustafa.

"I see," Mustafa says with a nod. "So when are you planning on going back?" He asks me.

"Soon. In'sha'Allah towards the end of next week. I have to be back in time for when school opens."

"Oh yes, I've heard of your school. I think it's really great that you opened a school, masha'Allah."

"It was Isa's father's idea."

"He seems like he was a very good man," Mustafa says.

"He was."

"Sounds like it's difficult to live up to a man like that," Mustafa says and I a smile.

"I'm not expecting to marry someone like Isa's father. Nor am I expecting a marriage like the one I had with Isa's father. And I won't compare my husband and marriage to Isa's father and my marriage to him," I say, and a look of relief passes Mustafa's features.

"That's good," He says.

"So everything seems promising at the moment," Imran says.

"But there's still the problem of where we'll live," I remind him.

"Why don't we give each other a few days to make a decision? And then we can go further from there if either of us can see ourselves agreeing to move," Mustafa suggests and I nod.

"That sounds like a good idea to me."

"Then I guess I'll leave," Mustafa says, standing up. "I've taken up a lot of your time," He says, looking down at his wrist watch. "Jazak'Allah khair for the lovely food. If it's okay, may I see Isa again?" He asks and I feel a flash of joy.

"Of course, I'll call him," I say, getting up and running out of the room.

I run up to where Isa's playing with Farah and call him down.

"Uncle Mustafa wants to see you," I say and Isa follows me down.

"Are you going?" Isa asks, looking up at Mustafa. Mustafa kneels down.

"Yes, I am. It was really nice to meet you, buddy," Mustafa says and I look between them, comparing them to Mufasa and Simba.

"It was nice to meet you too," Isa says with a smile. Mustafa ruffles his hair and says to me,

"He's a very handsome boy, masha'Allah." He gets up and adds, "Remember to have that talk with him. Find out what Isa wants too, okay?" He says.

"Okay," I reply and then Mustafa shakes Imran's hand and leaves.

"He called me buddy," Isa says happily and I laugh.

For the first time in five years, I've met someone I like.

I tell Ummi to cancel all the other meetings and she agrees. I keep getting teased by all three of them. Eliza keeps smirking at me and after I confessed the comparison of Mustafa and Mufasa, Imran keeps singing the intro song of The Lion King. Ummi keeps making du'as that this works out and I find myself enjoying the teasing.

In the next few days, I keep thinking back to what happened when I went to Karachi and I start to dislike the idea of moving there more and more. Nonetheless, I bring myself to have that talk Mustafa said I should have with Isa.

"Isa, do you like it in England?" I ask, one evening as we had just finished dinner at the apartment.

"Yeah but sometimes I want to go home," Isa says.

"What if we went somewhere else in Pakistan. What if we moved to Karachi?" I ask and Isa looks up.

"Why? I don't know anyone from Karachi! I don't have any friends there. I don't want to move to Karachi!" Isa says, his eyes already tearing up and my decision is made.

"It's okay, we won't be moving to Karachi. I was just asking," I say and Isa looks relieved.

I wait nervously the next few days for Mustafa's response, aware of the date for mine and Isa's flight back to Pakistan approaching.

Finally, I get a phone call from Ummi, telling me come around as Mustafa called Imran and told him of his intentions. I leave my packing and take Isa with me, rushing to Ummi's house.

Once I get there, I immediately ask about what Mustafa said.

"I'm afraid he said he did istikhara and then his mother got sick and he realised that he wants to be close to his mother. He doesn't want to move far out of Karachi. He says moving here has taught him that," Imran tells me and I feel my heart break.

"Well, neither Isa nor I want to move to Karachi," I say. "I can't do it. I just can't."

"I'll let him know," Imran says, leaving the room.

"Are you sure?" Eliza asks and I nod.

"Esha, he's a good man," Ummi says.

"I know he is but I can't! I keep thinking of Isa's father and I just can't do it. And Isa nearly cried when I asked him if he wanted to move!"

"We understand," Ummi says and Eliza agrees.

Imran comes back and tells us what Mustafa had to say.

"He says his du'as are with you and that he hopes the best for you and Isa. He also said that he had a lot of hope this would work out and that he's sorry but your an amazing girl. I disagree with the last part but... yeah," Imran says, trying to lighten the mood.

I feel a mixture of frustration, sadness and embarrassment. For the first time since Isa's father, I actually like someone! And for the first time, I'm not upset about the meeting not going well, I'm upset about Mustafa.

This is ridiculous. How can I actually like someone after one meeting?

"We're sorry, Esha. But remember, we plan and Allah plans but Allah is the best of planners. He's planned a whole future for you!" Eliza reminds me.

"I guess you'll have to continue the search in Pakistan," Ummi says.

"Yeah, I guess so. Inayah will probably be looking forward to that," I say, attempting a smile.

Hopefully, there will be someone else like Mustafa in Pakistan waiting for me. I just hope he doesn't want to move to Karachi!

"Now let's spend rest of my time here, enjoying it instead of going crazy looking for potential husbands," I say, glancing towards Ummi and she smiles.

"Okay," She says.

We all sit to play a game of Ludo while Imran sits across from us holding Sami. Isa and Farah team up and I look around affectionately. I'm going to miss them when I get back. But for Isa's sake, I'm ready to go.