Mehmal

Chapter 17 ( Guilt)

It had been two months since Mehmal began living alone. Her mother remained in a coma, with doctors warning that, if she ever awoke, severe side effects could occur—she might lose her senses or hearing. Medical expenses were covered by a combination of government aid and her savings.

Sikandar had left everything to Mehmal and Sania. The business, originally Suleman's father's, had a portion allocated to Mehmal as Sikandar had managed it. Though she initially refused to accept it, Suleman insisted it was rightfully hers and she could access it whenever needed.

Mehmal managed to hold herself together, but she was emotionally drained. Memories of Zaryab still haunted her, with everything reminding her of him. She had changed her number to avoid his calls, rejecting what she perceived as his pity. It still hurt to think of him with other women.

Suleman convinced her to enroll in a Master's program to keep herself busy. She did, and also started working at the UN in Human Rights.

One cold evening in London, Mehmal walked past the same masjid where she had previously spoken with Dr. Ali Yousaf.

"Can I meet Dr. Ali Yousaf?" she asked a man there.

"He comes every Friday to Sunday," he replied, surprising her. It was Wednesday night. "Two months ago, he came on a Wednesday night during a heavy storm," she recalled with curiosity.

The man frowned. "That's unusual. It's not his regular day. He must have had a special reason," he said before leaving her frozen in thought. She began to wonder if his presence that night had been a divine intervention meant to console her.

At university, Mehmal took up a new subject: Crisis Communication. When the professor entered, she looked closely and her face went blank with confusion. Her brain couldn't process the information fast enough. It was Dr. Ali Yousaf.

He didn't notice her as he began the lecture. She was impressed to learn that he had a Ph.D. in International Relations from London, was an Islamic scholar, had served in the UN for 20 years, and then joined the OIC. Due to health reasons, he was now teaching.

After class, she approached him. "Hello, sir," she said. He nodded without looking up.

"Do you remember me?" she asked.

He looked up and smiled. "Mehmal," he said, recognizing her immediately.

"You remember me?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. I don't usually remember everyone, but that day was different. I think I was sent for you, even though it was not my usual day," he replied.

"How are you now?" he asked.

"Not better, but working on myself. Thank you for that day," she said.

He smiled. "May Allah help you. Just remember, if Allah loves you more than others, He tests you more than others," he said.

Mehmal smiled in return. He invited her to attend his lectures, though she knew she probably wouldn't as it wasn't her interest. However, she felt a sense of peace knowing he was there.

Mehmal was feeling okay today after her talk with Dr. Yousaf. She went to the hospital afterward to visit her mother.

"Mama, guess who I met today," Mehmal began talking to her mother, knowing she wouldn't respond but needing the solace of speaking to someone. She had promised herself she would provide her mother with a semblance of normalcy, not wanting her to pass away witnessing her daughter's miserable life, as her father had. She recounted the events of her day, sharing every detail.

At home, she sat at the dining table for the first time in a long while. She looked at the empty seats, particularly her father's, and her emotions twisted painfully inside her.