Unlikely To Happen

Part 34 - Typically Maleeha

Part 34 – Typically Maleeha

"Ibn Umar gave the call to prayer on a cold and windy night, and he said: "Pray where you are, for the Prophet (saw) used to order the Muadhdhin, if it was a cold and rainy night, to say: 'Pray in your dwellings.'" ~Sahih Tirmidhi."

A cold front had forcibly made its stubborn way through to the Gauteng province of South Africa. Bitterly iced gales blew throughout the province, some settlements in poorer communities were homeless as a result of the harsh winds that had blown their homes away. Nonstop rain had not helped to uplift community spirit as everyone felt as miserable as the weather. Added onto the hardship of the suffering of the poor, was the unfair stress of hunger.

Moodily, Maleeha forced her way out of the glass doors of Zaakir's company's building. The weather was terrible, in her eyes, and she had designed an advertisement creating awareness for the harsh winds and the possibilities of flooding, but the managers and senior managers refused to allow her to use it as 'she had been using working hours for her personal use on a project that was not company approved'. Maleeha fumed over the fact that their letter to her had been redundant. There was a national disaster, and they were being arrogant and fastidious over petty shit, in Maleeha's mind. The idea that people were suffering and experiencing hardship while a massive percentage of the country could help to alleviate their difficulties – if they were aware – was one of the key factors in motivating Maleeha to push through with the design of her advertisement.

As soon as she left the building, her cell phone rang. Without looking at her screen, she slid her finger across the screen and answered. "Yes?" Realising the rude tone, Maleeha cleared her throat immediately and corrected her answering. "Maleeha Khan speaking."

"Maleeha Ahmed, I think you mean," Zaakir's deep voice corrected her with a light, teasing tone.

Maleeha stayed quiet, hoping to quell her anger before she could speak to Zaakir.

"Where are you, Mals?" he asked her as he noticed her silence.

Her eyes darted around the busy town street, the bustling of bodies around her, each one trapped in their own bubble of disappointments and expectations. "Uh, I'm just leaving work," she replied distractedly.

She shoved her handbag onto her other shoulder as she swapped her phone to rest on the opposite shoulder, keeping it firmly between shoulder and ear. "What about you? When are you coming home?"

She had tried, and failed, to make her tone seem light and airy. Zaakir had already noticed that there was something off about her mood the minute she had answered the phone call. He hated to add on to her bad mood.

"Let me guess," Maleeha began dejectedly. "You're not coming home tomorrow?"

He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, love. The weather has gotten bad here. The storms are just too terrible for me to be able to get a flight back right now. It is dangerous for pilots to fly in these storms."

Maleeha inhaled sharply. "I understand, I just don't like it." As she reached her car, she unlocked it and slid into the driver's seat, biting back her disappointment and anger. "It's just been a long day, Zaakir. I'm going to go home, make my salaah and sleep," Maleeha told Zaakir flatly as she leaned her head against the steering wheel.

Zaakir hated the prolonged separation, all he truly wanted was to sit beside his wife, watching a silly movie and laughing together. He knew that the cold weather often affected Maleeha's moods, but he could tell that there was something that was bothering her that went deeper than the surface. "Mals, love, did something happen at work today?" his soft, gentle voice was a soothing balm to her unquelled anger.