5th April, 2016

[Charity is] for the poor who have been restricted for the cause of Allah, unable to move about in the land. An ignorant [person] would think them self-sufficient because of their restraint, but you will know them by their [characteristic] sign. They do not ask people persistently [or at all]. And whatever you spend of good - indeed, Allah is Knowing of it.

Surah Al Baqarah

Chapter 33:

Turning Pages

"Australia, London, Malaysia, Singapore, Tanzania, Doha, Africa, Canada, even Antarctica! Take me anywhere but here."

"Why would I take you to Antarctic? I'm not running this company to plan the weddings of penguins."

"Boss, you get the point. I'm not going."

"Give me one solid reason and I'll send someone else."

"It's too short a notice. I can't pack my bags and just leave."

Mr. Tandon grinned, and replied, "When you're an event manager, my boy, you don't get to submit such excuses."

"Then, how about I say I'm getting engaged?"

He raised an eyebrow at that, and Asif looked at him, trying to maintain an innocent face.

"You're getting engaged?"

"Sort of. Mostly."

"You're getting engaged tomorrow? Or in the coming week?"

Asif looked away at the question, and replied, "No."

"Well then, congratulations on finding the right girl even if you're not engaged yet. However, the fact that you're going to get engaged sometime in life still doesn't convince me to cancel your tickets."

"That place is freaking hot, I'm allergic to such climate!"

"It's not as hot as the Sahara. Besides, you were fine at a temperature of 45 degree last time."

"I don't like the people there."

"Hate the people, not the place," he replied, highly amused by his employee's tantrums.

Asif groaned, wondering where in the world his smart comebacks had disappeared.

Probably they'd all gone away with his brain.

And heart.

"So I take it that you're going?"

"Boss, why don't you give me one good reason why Manish can't go instead of me?"

"It's my nephew's wedding, that girl finally said yesterday and he wants to get married in less than a week. We need someone who is spontaneous, and is willing to work on his toes. What sort of an uncle will I be planning weddings for every Tom and Harry and messing his own nephew's big day? I'm not taking the risks."

Asif sighed, getting up from his chair and standing face to face with the boss. He placed both his hands on the guy's shoulders, and ever so slowly, said,

"My only question is, WHY CAN'T YOU SEND SOMEONE ELSE?"

Mr. Tandon laughed, and patting Asif's cheek, he answered, "If you're attempting to hear a compliment from me, then no, I'm leaving."

As he walked towards the exit, Asif said, "Was that your way of saying you don't trust anyone as much as you trust me?"

"Was it?" Mr. Tandon grinned, and shrugged, walking out.

"Pack your bags, Asif. We're leaving for Dubai!" Were his parting words, causing Asif to slump in his chair.

Dubai was huge, if it wasn't huge in its topography, then the height of Burj Khalifa made up for it. Say, even if Simran was in the same building, the chances of him seeing her were as slim as finding a desi Aunty who thought the phone was not the cause of all problems in her child's life, be it failing exams or having a stomach ache.

The point was, it wasn't a big deal going to Dubai. He just had to go there, plan the wedding, and return home.

As simple as it sounded, the more complex Asif envisioned it to be.

From arriving at an airport that Simran had visited to walking on that land where a part of him knew she was somewhere close, that would be a torture.

Right now, they had the concept of distance between them. They were very far from each other and as she had wanted it, Asif was trying to let go of her memories. With a clear mind and strong heart, he was focussing on his current relationship with Sofia, he did not want to take any chances of spoiling the hardwork he had put into training his mind to accept things.

The bottom line, he didn't want to go anywhere close to her. Although, it was a different case that without permission, she had a way of intruding his thoughts.

Well, this was getting tough.

In an annoyed mood, when he reached home that day, he saw Tabbo sitting on the couch as she was stitching what looked like a button on her dress.

"You made these?" Asif asked as he took a handful of french fries and sat on one of the chairs.

He looked at her curiously when she didn't turn to acknowledge his presence or the question.

"Tab."

No answer.

"Tabbo.

No answer.

"Tabby."

No answer.

"Tabbo and Habbo under a tree,

Habbo gives a candy for free.

Tabbo accepts the chocolate dove,

Habbo falls in love."

At the mention of the poem that Asif used to tease Tabbo with, Tabasum finally looked up. She was in kindergarten when her classmate, Habeeb, had given her a dove shaped candy and Omar had witnessed it. He had informed his twin about this puppy love and needless to say, Asif created what Tabbo called the pathetic poem.

"Wow! At the mention of your old sweetheart, you finally decided to spare your brother a glance?"

Tabasum narrowed her eyes at Asif, and replied, "How many times do I need to remind you to not sing that rhyme?"

"Nice to know my pathetic poem has reached the humble status of rhyme. Why aren't you talking to me?" He questioned, diverting the topic.

"Thanks for reminding me to continue to ignore you," she said and resumed the chore.

However, five minutes later, when she hadn't received a reply, she sighed, dumping her dress on a corner and staring at Asif as he ate the fries.

"I don't like you."

"The feeling's mutual, sista!"

"Why are you doing this?"

"What exactly am I doing?"

"This. This whole act that you're putting up."

"I don't understand, Tabbo. I'm my normal self, I'm always like this."

Sporting a hurt expression, Tabasum replied, "And that's the problem, Asif. You're putting up this I am normal facade and while no one can see it, I know it's your way of calming your inner turmoil. Don't do this, please."

"And what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Are you really giving up on the world you built with Simran? Are you really moving on?"

"Don't make this hard for me, Tabbo," Asif spoke, a distant look in his eyes. "Your friend was the one who wanted this."

"She's crazy. And you're crazier to listen to her."

"I never imagined doing this, I was ready to wait, I was willing to fight for us, make it happen. But that day when I heard her speak, it was clear that she didn't trust me enough to do all of it. She asked me to get married and live a happy life, that's exactly what I'm doing. She should have asked me to stay, she should have asked me to find a way, anything but asking me to give up on her. On us."

"You don't understand, Asif. She said all of it because she was hurting too. She knew that you spoke to her dad in the Masjid, and only she knows all that's happening in her house. He mum is quite adamant, she said that because she thought this was the only way to save you from this misery."

"Saving me from a misery by putting me in another misery? How thoughtful. It's a closed case, she didn't trust me. She decided for both of us."

"Come on Asif, you don't expect her to come and tell you yes Asif, I'm here for you, I'll stand here and see you try build our love story. This is not some movie. She's a good Muslim girl, she would never outright say that to you."

"I know that, Tabasum. But she shouldn't have said anything at all then. I don't even know why we're talking about this. Aren't you supposed to talk to me about Sofia? I believe you met her today?"

Tabasum brought the couch cushion to her face and screamed in frustration. Asif's it is what it is attitude while only he knew what he was going through was annoying her tremendously.

"Sofia is very good at heart, Asif, don't do this to her."

"I know she is, Tabasum, and it isn't my intention to hurt her."

"And that's the problem with this world. Our intentions are not reflected in our actions!" She spoke, her hands moving swiftly to show her frustration.

Asif looked at her in confusion, and questioned, "Why are you acting like a kid who was just told he is allergic to chocolate?"

Tabasum literally tugged at her hair in frustration, and replied, "Because you're trying to act very cool. I get it that things right now are difficult, you are hurt by what Simran said, and maybe, just maybe, it's Qadr that up two are not meant to be. I get what you're saying and I know despite all this, your thoughts of Simran are haunting you and you're just too hurt and feel lost inside. I get your conflicted emotions behind this life is a bed of roses facade you're trying to put. I get it but you know what you don't understand? You are pulling Sofia in the current mess that is your life. And if you don't take action, the tally of broken hearts will go from two to three."

Asif stared at his sister, going speechless for a second before he got up to leave.

"I don't want to continue this conversation any further," he said, all hints of amusement disappearing.

"By not proclaiming it out, the truth doesn't change."

"But it hurts less," were his final words before he vanished upstairs.

Tabasum heaved a sigh, unable to comprehend the direction of the current affairs in life. She had met Sofia today and the more she spoke, the more her heart hurt for the girl. She was asking for Asif's favourite things and at one point when Tabasum said he loves fish cutlets, she made a face, saying she wasn't a fan of seafood but quickly added, 'If he likes them, I'll try learning the dish.'

She couldn't even describe how terrible she had felt listening to that.

Life had suddenly got so twisted that the tangled mess was a reason enough to not even attempt to unwind the knots.

While she was about to take the plate from the table and head to the kitchen, to fetch more snacks since it was her habit to gobble everything around her in times of stress, her phone beeped with a message from her mother.

I spoke to Asif earlier in the day, he told me he's leaving for Dubai tomorrow. Help him in packing, I'm buying snacks for his journey.

Tabasum grinned reading the text, and if she wasn't so busy thinking of other things, she would have remembered to tell her mother that Asif wasn't in grade six where he used to go to school picnics and his mother would pack him snacks. Right now, at the mention of such news, although a part of her new it was futile, she couldn't help but read her previous whatsapp conversation with Simran.

Tabasum had texted her earlier in the day, apologising for yesterday's events. When she had been apologising continuously despite Simran asking her to forget it, Simran had sent an image to change the topic. The series of texts that followed next were quite funny.

Are you serious? That image of the wedding card you sent says it's a beach wedding. I LOVE BEACH WEDDINGS. - Tab

I know! My Uncle got that invite from one of his friends and when I saw it, I remembered you. So cool! Remember those times we used to dream of all that lol? - Simmy

Of course I remember. Are you going? I mean you have to go, you can't possibly miss out on such an opportunity. If it's it's a beach wedding, they'll probably have seafood as the main course. Wow I'm jealous. - Tab

I am going mostly. My Aunt was even asking me what I'm going to wear. - Simmy

What are you wearing? - Tab

Abaya. Duhhhh. - Simmy

Oops yeah sorry got carried away. I was thinking of movie scenes! All that beach wear and all LOL. - Tab

May Allah bless your imagination. :o - Simmy

As Tabasum read the texts, a smile plastered on her face, she hurriedly opened the image to read the other details on the wedding card, mainly the date, time and venue.

She then went upstairs to Asif's room and before knocking, she tried to tone down her expression and put on a poker face.

"Mom said you're leaving for Dubai tomorrow. Do you need help with anything?"

"Nope."

"Sure? You don't want me to iron or anything?"

Asif turned to look at Tabbo, a small smile on his lips.

"Yes. Please iron these," he said, giving her a pile of clothes.

Tabasum rolled her eyes, and replied, "Are all the guys in your group like this? Dina was telling me the other day that even Bilal abhors ironing his clothes, she does it for him most of the time."

"That's another common trait that makes us best friends," he shrugged.

"So," she started, trying to sound as casual as possible, "What's the wedding theme this time?"

"How do you know I'm planning a wedding this time? It could be a party too."

Tabasum looked at him, a little panicked, and asked, "It's not a wedding?"

"It is," he laughed, looking at her expression.

"Hah! I guessed it right!" She replied with a smug look.

"And guess what? It's something you've dreamt of."

"A beach wedding?" She questioned, her eyes hopeful.

"You look like you're the bride. And yes, it's a beach wedding."

"That is so cool. When is it?"

"Friday."

And that was enough for Tabasum to grin widely and suppress her squeals.

She didn't know what could come out of such a situation, she didn't even know if this could change anything at all, but the slight chance of them both being in the same place, at the same time, ignited hope in her heart.

Although by now, she must have known better than to cling on to such hope.

***

"There are a lot of people, who stretch their hands and ask, and of course, you must always help them, but you should look for those people in need who feel too ashamed to ask. You must search for such people and help them."

"How will you find them?"

"You get to know," Shabana smiled at Dina's question, and looked at Bilal. "Bilal hasn't taught you yet?"

Dina's gaze flickered to Bilal who was cleaning the mess in the kitchen, for obviously, he hadn't contributed much in cooking except for the peeling of onions and shedding a river of tears.

Although Dina was still a bit annoyed by yesterdays' gestures, instead of actually talking to him properly today, she had been ignoring him. She didn't know why she was doing this, or maybe it was because her annoyance on the fact that she had annoyed Bilal annoyed her so much that she was even more annoyed by her actions and now she was showing that annoyance to Bilal.

Yeah, it was complicated.

"I'm still learning," Dina replied instead, answering Shabana's earlier question.

Today, they had made fifty parcels of biryani and distributed half to the beggars and the other half to people like cart vendors or those who had tiny shops by the footpath. Bilal had insisted that these were the people who ran small businesses and they'd never ask you for food, but they would appreciate the gesture tremendously.

"I honestly wonder from where he gets such nice thoughts," Dina said after some time.

"Bilal has always been like that, he especially feels for the people who are hungry and I think it's because of the stories we've told him."

"What stories?"

"When your father in law and I were newly married, he was very adamant on not taking help from his father. Unlike today's times where children usually inherit their dad's business and enjoy their lives, which of course is perfectly alright, but Jawed, from the beginning, wanted to be a self made man. I came from a good family, and we never had to worry about food in my house, it used to be a lavish affair. However, Jawed did not like taking much help from his dad who already had so many children to look after to, and at that time, he didn't even have a proper job, and there were so many times I used to stay hungry, the money we used to spend on food wasn't enough for the appetite of two adults.

When I was pregnant, I had the worst case of nausea and vomiting, and Jawed used to do his utmost best to meet all my needs, giving me the best food, taking me to the best hospital, you name it and he'd do it. But in pregnancy, there were those times I used to crave for food and there would be none, Jawed didn't know because he used to do small chores here and there. That time, we had these neighbors living opposite to our house. When I couldn't take the hunger pangs, I would go to their house, too ashamed to say I'm hungry, I'd say I've come to meet them. There was this Aunty whom we called Badi Ma, I wouldn't tell her anything and yet she'd set the most lavish table for me and give me enough food to not go hungry for hours together. Even to this day, I remember her. When you're absolutely hungry and you can't find food to fetch, it's a horrible case. Hunger teaches you many lessons and people who give you relief in such cases are truly blessings sent by Allah."

Dina listened to the story, looking around at the house and all the lavish things. Seeing Jawed now, she didn't imagine he had been through all that.

And that was the thing. In people, we read the chapters that were in front of us, ignorant to the fact that to reach this chapter that person had lived through the previous chapters of trial and sufferings.

She was met with a rush of emotions when she realized, to witness the best days of your life, you sometimes need to go through worst situations.

"It's always been the case in our house, so I wasn't surprised when Bilal suggested that we cook food and distribute it to the needy to celebrate the joy of your pregnancy, alhamdulilah."

Dina didn't know why, but as Shabana said that, she started crying.

"Dina, why are you crying?" She asked, sitting beside her and hugging her. Since she couldn't take it, Dina put her head in her lap and sobbed.

"I don't know why I'm crying," she stuttered.

"What is this, I don't understand, Dina, calm down."

She cried for a few more minutes, and then got up, rubbing her face with her sleeve.

"How can people be so good?"

"You're crying because you think people are good?" Shabana laughed.

"I don't know. I mean, I've met people who are so busy thinking of themselves that they don't get time to even look at others. And amidst all this, finding good people is like, I don't know. I don't think you even understand what I'm saying, Ammi, do you? It's just weird. And I'm feeling so emotional these days!"

"Alright, I do understand what you're saying, relax, calm down. It happens when you're pregnant."

Before Shabana could say anything further, Bilal walked in, and the minute he laid eyes on Dina, he said, more to himself, "You're crying."

He hadn't spoken to her all day, for he thought she needed some space, so now as he addressed her, she shook her head and replied, "I'm not."

"Ma?" he questioned, looking at his mother.

"Don't worry, Bilal, she's fine."

"But why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying."

"You're lying."

"I was crying, I'm not crying now. How is that a lie?"

"Why were you crying then?"

"Because I felt like crying."

"What?" Bilal questioned, looking at her in confusion. "Who cries because they feel like crying?"

"Bilal!" Shabana chided although she hid a smile. "Leave the poor girl alone."

"Are you not surprised by her behavior?"

"Not at all, it happens."

"Are you seriously telling me this is a normal thing? From when did women get so complicated?"

"In pregnancy, mood swings are common."

"Oh!" Bilal replied, as understanding dawned on him. "You must have told me earlier."

"As if you didn't know," Dina replied, and her words sounded more like an accusation.

"Of course I didn't know! I've never been with a pregnant woman and it's the first time my wife is getting pregnant, how in the world am I supposed to know women get emotional at this time?"

"Ok Bilal, now you know," Shabana said, dismissing the subject, "So be prepared."

"I will," he replied solemnly and Dina rolled her eyes.

As Jawed strolled in later, he suggested they go for a walk and after praying Asr, the entire got dressed to leave. It was a pleasant weather, and the sun was beginning to set, casting a tinge of orange in the sky with the birds flocking to their nests as the day was coming to the end.

Initially Jawed and Dina strolled together as Jawed narrated some of his stories from earlier days, however after some time, as Dina stopped to fasten her shoelace, Shabana joined Jawed, leaving Dina and Bilal behind.

As they resumed their walk in the park, the couple walked beside each other, silently.

After sometime, Bilal held Dina's hand, intertwining their fingers, and Dina turned to look at him.

"Have you thought of baby names?" He asked, surprising her by the normal tone

"Yes. Have you thought of baby names?" She repeated his question.

"Yes."

"Really? Tell me."

"But before that, you tell me what happened to you last night."

Dina sighed, and replied, "I'm sorry, I don't know. I didn't like what Tabrez said and I burst out on you. I know I shouldn't have done that. Can we not talk about it, please? I was being mean. Why were you ignoring me since morning?"

"I wasn't ignoring you, I thought you wanted some time to collect your thoughts."

"All I wanted was to talk to you."

"So the next time you don't talk to me, give vibes like you don't want to see my face, I'll remember that it means you actually want me to talk to you."
Bilal said, giving her the crooked smile that she loved, and Dina replied,

"Yes, maybe that's exactly what it means. So coming to baby names, what have you thought of?"

"If it's a girl, how about Anam?"

Dina's eyes widened at that, and she said, "Subhan Allah! I was thinking of the exact same thing!"

"I'm not surprised!"

"Done! Anam is perfect," she declared, her eyes clouding over at the memory of the little girl.

Bilal squeezed her hand comfortingly and diverting her mind, he asked, "And if it's a boy?"

"How about Hanzala?" Dina asked.

"It's good. But how about Khalifa?"

"What does it mean?"

"Leader."

"Hanzala or Khalifa then?"

"I'm sticking with Khalifa," Bilal laughed.

"No! Hanzala! I'm the one giving birth to the child, so I get to choose the final name!"

"What! No please! Ok let me try, say if someone's introducing our baby, they'll say,

This is Bilal and Dina's son, Khalifa. This is Bilal and Dina's son, Hanzala. Hanzala's father's name is Bilal, Khalifa's father is Bilal.

Ok it's decided! We need to have lots of children in sha Allah so we can use both names," Bilal finally said, giving up.

"And well, in that case, we can keep the first boy's name Hanzala and the next one's Khalifa," Dina suggested.

"But I still like Khalifa more, so let's keep our first son's name Khalifa in sha Allah."

"No, Hanzala."

"Khalifa."

"Hanzala."

"Khalifa."

"Hanzala."

"We're not even sure if it's a girl or a boy," Bilal finally said.

"Yeah, but I'm talking about the future."

"Someone's done all the planning," he teased and Dina found herself blush.

Before she could say anything, the toddler who was running right in front of them slipped and fell down, and although it didn't look like she was hurt, she started wailing.

Dina hurried to pick her up and carrying her in her arm, she wiped her tears and offered her a candy. She was rocking her in her arms while patting her back reassuringly, when her parents came rushing and took their daughter from her.

As Dina smiled at the little family and gazed at their retreating backs, she caught Bilal's eye when she turned to look at him.

He was looking at her with such intensity in his eyes that Dina felt self conscious.

"What?" She asked, playing with the tassels of her hijab.

Bilal shook his head and as he took her hand in his and resumed walking, he said, causing a million butterflies to invade her stomach,

"In sha Allah, you'll make a good mother."