Longing For Paradise

Chapter 13

The wild winds scatter the flower petals.
The lilting silk makes for a good shawl.
The scent of jasmine and honey remains on my nose for days.
The henna that decorates your hand
and your hair that sits under the sun
are all my enemy.
Who if not them made it so difficult for me to deny you?

~ Ghalbani bid Dhar

Before he could answer Noor interrupted them.

Sans drinks, she informed them of Layla's mother's dishes that were being prepared in her honour, though she herself didn't know that.

Layla's mother was an honest woman. She began her day by shaking awake her youngest to go the mosque, for though he was the youngest, he was twelve and well past that age where praying in the mosque isn't mandatory. He was after all her only son and while she complained about him the most, it was him who captured her heart the most.

However, a mother, while more doting on one child than another, is never lacking in love for all her children, a fact apparent as she sighs for Layla. Eldest in her household, she was the only one who actually remembered her father's death. She also remembered them having to leave their once prosperous estate and moving in into a shabby unit nestled among hundred others, each inhabitant with a story of their own. Of course Noor's father had offered them shelter in his own house and offered to keep the servants' wages, but Layla's mother insisted they manage on their own, that the first three months after selling the estate was generous enough.

Friendships like that were hard enough to come by, and she could credit her husband's good humour and his own generous soul to be surrounded by such friends who don't shirk from their dues, and in turn Layla's mother didn't want to shy away from her due to Noor as the daughter of her husband's good friend and as Layla's childhood playmate. A feast was the least she could manage.

The one person who stuck out like a sore thumb was Firdous. He didn't where he should move, for a step forward and he would be in the youngest's study area on the floor, and a step back and he'd be on another of Layla's siblings' lap; so he pressed his lips together and watched as the women carried the pots in from the kitchen, Noor insisting no serving dishes were needed as she was but family and the china was for actual guests. It was when Layla gestured toward Firdous that Noor stopped and realising what was unfolding, Firdous rushed to state that they were all friends and that she need not take out any china on his account.

Layla's mother, of course, wouldn't hear any of it. As Layla dished the table with lavish delicacies, a rich aroma wafted in the air. As the children gathered around the table, a question loomed in their eyes.

There was hardly enough chairs for themselves, and with added guests, Layla's three younger siblings sighed as they resigned themselves with a plate on the attached drawing room carpet, comforting themselves with the dishes to be eaten.

Firdous noticed the chipped wood on the chairs. The seats seemed to be faded to an unrecognizable colour, neither green, nor brown, nor black, the pattern a distant memory. The table itself wasn't any better, he noticed as he sat down, though its blemishes were hidden by the embroidered table cloth. He tried not to be icky, he did. But habits are hard to hide and it caught Noor's eyes.

He knew she saw him. She didn't say anything, she was studying him. Perhaps Layla's words were not falling onto deaf ears.

Was Firdous scared? No, no he wasn't. But he couldn't shake off the striking discomfort in his stomach, ignoring it as they all took their lunch merrily as a gathering of family does in the presence of a stranger.

The afternoon sun lazed among the tall buildings as the streets quieted down, awaiting the evening call to prayer.

When the azaan¹ finally graced them, Layla's mother didn't have to push her son out as she usually had to. The child had latched himself onto Firdous, marvelling over every word of this elder brother of his. He had no idea why this elder brother was hanging out with them or why he was with Noor even, but this elder brother was handsome and knew way too many stories, stories that could surely blow away the kids in the playground.

Noor and Layla helped about in the house, and when that was done, they took their place at the corner of the drawing room.

"I couldn't ask before because he was here, but who is that man you brought along with you, Noor?" Layla's mother addressed them. Neither Noor nor Layla knew how to respond.  Layla's mother smiled mischievously. "I just hope your mother knows. Remember, don't do anything you will regret, and never let your father find out."

"He's staying over at their house." Layla added.

"Has the matter advanced to that level? How come I didn't know?"

"It didn't, Auntie," Noor replied with a side-eye towards Layla. "He was just someone without a place to stay so we told him he could stay with us."

"Your mother must be shaking her fists in joy right now. She's been wanting this for so long, to see you settled finally. You did fine, Noor. As long as there is affection between a man and his wife, they're bound to survive the trials of life. I'm sure, since yours is a love match, you will enjoy your life full of bliss."

"InshAllah."

The boys returned hand in hand, Layla's brother talking so animatedly Firdous didn't have the heart to stop him even though his ears were about to wear off. Noor smiled at the scene and their eyes met.

"Shut up, Masood," Layla admonished her brother. "You're talking so much it's a miracle his ears aren't bleeding." Masood stuck his tongue out at her, causing everyone but Layla to laugh.

"Masood, if you don't-" Before Layla could finish, the boy dashed out the room. Noor shook her head with a smile. She then began to take her leave.

Unable to send Noor home empty-handed, Layla's mother prepared generous helpings of the afternoon's dishes, the sweets made especially for Noor.

"Auntie, how am I supposed to carry all of this? There's absolutely no need for any of them, I've already full to the neck." Noor pushed away the parcels.

"Firdous can carry the heavy ones. You can't skim on food. You're young and still growing, but you're still so skinny. Eat more and you'll be strong and healthy. Here," With that she shoved more dishes into their parcel. No amount of objections could discourage Layla's mother from packing them food, and so they eventually accepted them resignedly. They had but no other choice.

📜📜📜

Footnotes:
1: Azaan:- Call to prayer in Islam.