Longing For Paradise | ONC 2022 |

Chapter 2

When the Fates decide we must meet,
I will run to you at the speed of light.
When the Fates decide we mustn't meet,
I will run to you at the speed of light.
If death takes me before you,
I will come to you as Light.
If death take you before me,
then there will be no Light.

- Makhami Al Layl

To be shown the greater virtues of the world was one of Mrs. Al Ansari's greater regrets towards her daughter. When Fatima was young, she only wished to travel and see the landscapes Ibn Batuta¹ mentioned in his books. Over and over again she was told it was improper for girls to travel, yet every night she dreamed on about travelling.

Everything changed when she met Khalid. She didn't know who he was at the time, just that he looked dashing in his armour when she went to the battle campsite. Soon enough, a proposal came and she said yes.

To see her own dreams haunting her own daughter scared her. The disappointments she'd have to face, the moments spent alone in frustration over one's husband, everything was too much for her. It wasn't like Khalid was a bad husband, he was a good man. But he was a man. Her mother warned her not to let a man know too much of her inner thoughts. She knew how afraid her mother had had been of her father, but things were different with her husband. He didn't mind her saying what she wanted in front of him, and she always made sure to keep up his name in public gatherings. Yet her heart ached for her daughter. She resolved very early to never let her daughter, her Noor, her light suffer the emptiness she did.

"Noor, you must marry someone before it's too late," she urged her daughter.

"Too late for what, Mama? What in the world is there that is tracking my time for marriage?"

"Everyone. You're too young so you don't understand. Who's going to want you when you're old and ugly?"

"I'm just twenty one. It's going to be a while before I turn 'old and ugly'."

"But still, Noor. The older you get the worse your proposals will be. People will think something's wrong with you and demand higher dowry."

"They're not supposed to even demand dowry. Islam makes that highly clear. It's not my fault people are still stuck in their ancient, ignorant thoughts. Plus, I'm never marrying someone who even thinks that way."

"Which is why you shouldn't have left today. The boy that came today, Mahmoud, he fits your standards perfectly." She used her hands to emphasize how perfect he was.

"Baba said his head's up his arse."

"Your dad doesn't know anything. Mahmoud is wealthy, he can provide a good life for you. His family is based here, so you can be close to us and visit us whenever you want. And if you want to travel, you can tag along with him on his business. It's a win-win for everyone."

"Everyone except me. Mama, he might be a good man, but it's not easy to spend my entire life with someone based on the fact that they're good. Do you know how many people in this world are good? Doesn't mean I have to spend my life with all of them."

"What do you know about spending the rest of you life with someone? Did you ever spend you life with someone like that? You don't even have a lover. That girl, what's her name, Hafsa? At least she had a lover."

"Key word, had. He's dead. Though it was truly welcoming a sight to see her follow his coffin like a mad woman." Noor laughed.

"Noor," Mrs. Al Ansari admonished her. "Don't speak ill of the dead. You don't understand what the poor girl's going through."

"Mama, this is exactly why I tell you you're too good for this world. You're thinking of her grief while everyone else is eating her alive. Do you know what Abu Yaffar wrote about her? How could she be in love with a man who basically shamed her publicly? And he was a cheater. I honestly don't understand what's going through her head." Noor shook her head.

"How could you, you were never in love." A voice joined in. Noor looked at the woman by the door before rushing to embrace her.

"Layla, I missed you." Noor murmured in her neck.

"Me too. Now let me go so I can greet your mother." She smiled. As the greetings were done, Mrs. Al Ansari invited Layla to tea with her, but Noor declined on her behalf and dragged her friend to her room and closed the door behind them.

"Where have you been?" Noor demanded. Layla smiled lazily as she stretched herself out on the bed, the afternoon sun drawing patterns as they passed through the decorated windows.

Grabbing an ottoman, she placed herself in front of Layla and pulled her up.

"Why so impatient?" Layla took out a crumpled piece of paper from her bag and passed it on. Noor could not believe her eyes.

"I'm going to go and have tea with your mother," Layla smirked and left the room, leaving Noor alone with her letter.

My Beloved,

So far I only know one thing of you: there is no one in this world more evocatively beautiful than you. Any creature laying their eyes on you will scratch their eyes out lest they see anything else. Yours is the first morning light I wake up by, and yours is the last thought I sleep by. In death and in dream you are all I desire.

Tell me O Beloved, when can we meet? You told me not your name, not your place. Give me something I can I believe in your existence by, something that will convince me I haven't just gone mad.

"What does it say?"

Noor stumbled off the ottoman and onto the floor.

"Layla," she growled at her laughing friend.

"What does it say?"

"He wants to meet." Noor looked at her friend.

"So meet. What's the big deal?"

"What if he doesn't like me?"

"Yes, a man who said 'In death and dream you are all I desire' definitely doesn't like you." Noor threw a pillow at her friend.

"Why are you reading them?"

"I have a business to know what my friend's up to, okay?" Layla laughed as she had another pillow thrown at her.

"I think I'm going to meet him at the twilight gathering."

"Are you mad? Noor, no. Exchanging letters is one thing, but meeting a man that late in the night is another."

"You just told me to meet him. Plus, it's not like I'm going there for fun anyways. The soldiers are onto person spreading 'blasphemous' books. It's not easy to get those books in the first place, Dad always keeps them hidden away. A lot of scholars and poets are going to be at the twilight gathering, maybe someone will know something there."

"Still, Noor. It's dangerous. A woman amongst all those men, do you any of them will leave you unscathed?"

"Who said anything about going as a woman?" Noor smirked at her friend, who slowly began to giggle.

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Footnotes:
1: Ibn Baṭṭūṭah was a medieval Muslim traveler who wrote one of the world's most famous travel logs, the Riḥlah.