We never called for Helima Alhamdulillah. The bump on my stomach was enough evidence of my pregnancy. Maryam wouldn't stop joking about it.
"Morning hab hab" Maryam says walking into my room and opening the curtains to let the light in.
(hab hab=watermelon)
" Morning majnuna" I retorted
She places her hand over her heart as if offended. "Majnuna over life," she says grinning widely
(Majnuna = crazy)
"What time is it?" I growled
"Morning time" she said rolling her eyes at me.
I groan and turn to the side and pulling the blanket over my face. Maryam pulls back the blanket and we tug at each other until I eventually let go. She loses her balance and almost falls but manages to stand straight.
"Do you know how much longer until Ramadan?" She asked with her hands over her hips.
"I don't know
soon"
"10 more days Hab hab, 10" she emphasized the 10 by holding up 10 fingers.
"Exactly 10 that's a lot of time" I said rolling my eyes, I was so tired and sleepy
"No it's not we have to go to the souk before they run out of things and become crowded" she paces around the room taking out my Niqab and abaya. She's right and I hate that she is.
I finally pull myself up and get dressed. Who knew someone could ever struggle to put on socks? I didn't. I pull them over my feet flip down over the sofa.
"Come on Hadiya you're going to turn into a bear if you get tired so easily" she puts out her hand to me
"Easy for you to say, I'm not used to this extra weight" I said taking her hand and pulling myself up.
***
The souk was crowded. "It seems like everyone had the same idea as you genius" I said knowing I will be pushing through half the crowds. Maryam keeps walking paying no attention to my comment. Little kids run around and push into us. Maryam grabs one of them by the arm. The boy looked about 6 years old. " Mash'Allah slow down brave boy"
The boy blushes and stops in his tracks
" look can you help me, my friend is too fat and pregnant and gets tired when she walks"
I nudge her arm, and the boy laughs. A mischievous smirk forms on the little boy's face "for a riyal" he says putting his hand out. This time I laugh.
She pushes the child around gently "run after your friends"
"What were you going to even ask him?"
"To help us find which store is not too crowded so nothing happens to you or the baby"
Aww, she cares about me and my baby. You hear that baby Maryam cares about you. "Don't worry if anything you should be worried for the other person because I'll probably knock them to another world"
"If only you were as tough as a hab hab" she teases from beside me. She ends up walking ahead of me and then a I feel a tomato thrown at me from behind. I turn around to find a tall man sitting in front of the store and whistling.
"What's your name," he says winking and I felt like taking the tomato and smashing it on his head. I can't believe men like this exist. It was like this sometimes when women were caught in the souk alone, men felt the freedom to catcall them even while they were covered from head to toe. Maryam turns around hearing his voice and glares at him in disdain.
"Have shame in yourself, you I'll mannered fool" she says pulling my arm and turning around.
"Don't worry you're beautiful too" he said smiling as if that was the problem
"Astagfarallah," she says closer to me now "even as Ramadan is around the corner they still act like this"
We walked faster now more aware of our surroundings. He ruined my mood. Why did he have to be such a prick! If Abbas was here, that idiot wouldn't have dared to throw that tomato at me. We're finally in the souk and most of the things were gone already. I find a bottle of Vimto and rush to grab it. A woman places her hand on it and I try to pull it away from her.
"Leave it, it's mine," she said narrowing her eyes at me
"You already have three with you don't be so greedy" surprised that I even spoke up, I usually give it up but this time I was willing to argue I think the baby is already controlling me.
She ignores my statement and continues to pull the vimto. Maryam comes from behind me and the women lets go of the vimto
"Aysha"
"Maryam"!
They seemed to know each other I took this opportunity and shielded the Vimto with my arms. This Vimto was mine that's for sure. Then I smile at how quickly they realized each other, wearing the niqab never stopped women from noticing each other even from the distance. Instead, it seemed to strengthen their bonds where they would notice unconsciously the posture of that woman, how she walked, the sound of her voice, the shape of her eyes. I'm not sure which one it is but any niqabi can recognize the other one.
Maryam greets her shaking her hand and kissing each side of ayshas covered cheeks. "It's been so long, I heard that fool divorced you, I haven't seen you since"
"He did, I haven't seen you either, what have you bought?" Maryam said changing the conversation to take another turn
"I was going to buy one more Vimto and then she took it," she says pointing at me
"That's my friend Hadiya, don't you remember her?"
Seeing the confusion on her face, she adds "bint Athman" that's how most of us are identified by our last names.
"Ohh yeah I do, Hadiya, how are you?" She clearly didn't remember me. If Maryam had said the redhead she would have figured it out right away. "Alhamdulillah and you?" I replied softening my voice. She no longer had the vimto in her possession there was no reason to be rude.
"Alhamdulillah" she turns around and continues to speak to Maryam. I felt like a little kid being left out and not knowing how to engage in the conversation. It reminded me how even back then it was always like this, Maryam was the one in the light and I was the shadow. I didn't know how to speak to people but Maryam was a natural at this.
Most of the time I just didn't care and then other times I kept in mind that to face most people you must adhere to their tactics and yet be cautious not to be like them, not to become them and I find that overwhelming and burdening so I ignore them. Most of the time spent with them they gossiped about others and made fun of people. I was one of those who were made fun of.
It was never done to my face but I knew if they talked about others negatively then surely they talked about me in the same way.
side note: I didn't believe that people threw tomatoes at women and was so shocked when my mother told me a story of her and her friend going to the market and she said back then men would throw anything at women as a form of flirting.
YOU ARE READING
A silent cry
Historical Fiction"and after all this time of waiting the devil would reach out to me and whisper, he's dead and you are here, how much longer will you wait, how much longer would you deny the truth, at some point, I was afraid that he would unlock my ribcage and sen...
