A  F I A  P A T E L

I felt three emotions overpower me in this moment. Confusion. Confused because why would Ubaidullah want to marry me. I don't know him. He doesn't know me. He knows my brother. Anger. Anger because how can my father decide for me. It's me getting the proposal not my father. He's not the one spending the rest of his life with someone he barely knows. Hurt. That's the emotion that stood out the most. Was it so easy for my father to just agree? To say yes like I'm some sort of deal? Like one of his business deals? I couldn't fathom that my father- without a thought -said yes all because he knew the family. 

It's my decision to make. My choice. Not his.

"So, what do you say, Afia?"my father asks with a broad smile that showed his teeth.

"I-I dont know. I don't mean anything bad. I just don't know him. Shouldn't we get to know each other? We barely know anything about each other." I said while using my hands to make a gesture between the two of us. Come on! The only thing we know about each other are our names. The only thing in common that we have is that we both know Ahmad Saeed. My eyes widened. Ahmad Saeed. He knew. My brother knew. That's why when I asked him earlier on he said I'll find out soon.

My father waved it off. "All you need to know is that he's a good boy. Comes from a good background. Is an accountant and will treat you well."

I couldn't believe my father. He just wants to send me off with a boy I barely know. Marriage is a bond between two people who love and care for each other. Who want to have kids with each other, spend the rest of their lives together until they grow old. Not because "he comes from a good background". I looked at my mother for help hoping that she would understand the weird facial expression I was making.

My mother looked at me with a pained expression and i mentally did a air fist bump.

"Abdullah, don't you think we're going to fast? Maybe we should give Afia time to think over this?"my mother pointed out with hopeful eyes.

Thank god! Someone understands me!

"Oh no, no pressure at all. We didn't want a finalized answer today. We'll give you'll some time to decide but don't take to long now." Aunty Mashooda said with a small laugh and a wink in my direction.

I saw Ubaidullah look at me from the corner of my eye. How is he so damn composed. The only sign of his nerves is the messy hair and his twitching fingers.

"Oh goodness! Look at the time! Almost half past four. We have to get going if we want to reach home in time for asr." Uncle Abdullah said while glancing at his watch. He stood up - an indication that they were getting ready to leave, which means another five minutes in the lounge and another ten minutes by the door - and my father joined whilst I stayed seated. Trying not to meet the piercing gaze of Ubaidullah.

The parents exchanged a few last words- and by a few I mean the normal I hope I see you soon and you should come visit us sometimes or oh yes Inshallah I'll come visit you soon which we all know will not be very soon. Almost everywhere my mother goes the same last few words will be that. Either spoken at the door on the way out or when she says she's going to go but in reality they just going to talk some more and she's saying that just to be polite.

When the Ubaidullah and his family leaves, I run up to my room so I don't have to hear what my parents have to say to me.

I'm reading a novel on my phone when I hear a soft knock on my door- by that time I'm done with asr and maghrib- and the soft voice of my mother asking if she could come in. Which was strange to me because in my family people have never heard of the word knocking or have never used the term before. Ever.

I roll my eyes and sigh as I put the book down to go see what my mother wants. Just when I was getting to the back stories of the main character.

I open the door and find my mothers hand raised in a fist to knock on the door again. I gesture for her to come in and she gives me a small smile. I close the door behind her because this family doesn't know privacy and I think -with the look on my mothers face- that the conversation we about to have is a serious one.

She sits on my bed and moves my oh so wonderful and interesting book that I was reading and pats the space next to her. I reluctantly go to sit down.

"Fia, I'm really sorry that such a huge decision has been placed on your shoulders. I know you don't want to get married right now and you're waiting for the right guy. Your father cares for-"

"No ma, if Aba really cared he wouldn't have agreed so easily to send me off with that man. A man I hardly know if I might add." I cut her off in the middle of her sentence. "He would've gave me the choice of whether or not I really wanted to marry this man. The choice of whether I not him wanted to spend the rest of my life with Ubaidullah." I said while moving my hands around. When I get too excited or I'm nervous I tend to have the habit of using my hands to much. Okay maybe using my hands all the time but that's not the point here.

"I know that, Fia. And that's why I told him too give you some time. Your father just wants what's best for you. He feels that Ubaidullah is the right man for you and I do too. I know you want to wait for the right man but.." She trails off looking anywhere but me.

"But what ma?" I asked, my eyes narrowed into slits.

"What if you don't find him?"she says while looking me in the eye. "What if the man you pictured in your head doesn't exist. What if you looking out there for someone but he might be right in front of you. Right under your nose. I know this is a difficult decision and its hard for you to understand. I mean look at me and your father. We had an arranged marriage. Look how that turned out. We got two beautiful children out of it. We happily married."

"But you and Aba were childhood friends from the time you'll were born. There's a difference, ma." I said while raising my eyebrows.

"Just.."she sighs and stands up. "Read istikhaara salaah and see what happens from there. If he's meant to be..." She says while patting my cheek.

"He's meant to be." I complete it for her and smile at her. "Jazakallah ma. I'll read after my isha."

" And come eat supper. Don't stay cooped up in that room when I made your favorite food." Her voice drifts off as she walks to the kitchen.

I sigh. Maybe I should give this a second thought. What if the right guy is actually Ubaidullah. I don't know him. Guess I have to read istikhaara salaah and find out.

As I'm grabbing my scarf I catch sight of my long forgotten book. Guess I have to read you some other time.

•°•°•°•°•°•°

I ignore my brother the entire time we having supper. Which was pretty hard if you ask me. With the constant leg kicks and jabs in the stomach he was pretty hard to not scowl at.

My father tried making a conversation with me but I was still a little bit angry. I gave the most curt and short answers there was.

My mother will shoot me looks from across the table and I'll try my level best to ignore it or brush it off.

I finished reading my isha salaah and my istikhaara salaah. Giving this a try remember?

I get into bed and grab my book. I have to read at least one chapter before I sleep. But one chapter turned into two and two turned into five and soon I was a sobbing mess on my bed after completing the book. Their love story had so many obstacles and barriers blocking their way but they still conquered it together. I wipe my nose and put the book on the table.

My alarm clock flashes the time in bright red. 10 : 40.

Guess I'll see whether Ubaidullah will be my husband or whether he'll remain my brothers friend.

I drift off to sleep with Ubaidullah on my mind.

•°•°•°•°•°

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