Under That Niqab

53. Euphoria

If we are unable to identify someone's flaws, it is not necessarily because they are flawless; rather, it could be because they are skilled at concealing them. Such people are driven by a fear that prevents them from revealing their flaws, as they fear that they will be judged by others and left alone.

No person on the surface of the Earth is not flawed but everyone has their own tactics to cover them up with the most expensive concealer they find.

Shavez looked into the mirror one last time fixing the already fixed brooch, he wanted to look good, he knew Haya might not even spare him a proper glance but he wanted to, just in case she does.

He was wearing an off-white two-piece jodhpuri suit with a vermillion red silk pocket square. His already handsome face was lit with joy prominent on his features.

Tall perfect-shaped nose, thick eyebrows, a natural light pink hue spread on his cheeks, and thin lips pressed against each other as he scrutinized his entire look one last time.

"Here," Hareem handed him the Rolex watch which he almost had forgotten.
He took it from him immediately sliding it into his hand and latched the clasp.

Nervous was really an understatement for how he was feeling at the moment. Shaky breaths puffing out of his lips now and then were the proof of his anxious state. He was able to feel his heartbeat quicken with the passing of time.

He could see Hareem through the mirror after he straightened the sleeves of both of his hands together to remove any kind of creases on them.

"I can sense that there is something on the tip of your tongue, just ask," He said.

Hareem was a little surprised to hear that, he thought he was being nonchalant but Shavez caught him.

"O yeah," He said, "It's just that I'm confused"

"About?"

"I don't know," he said plopping down on his bed.

It was the day of the Nikah ceremony, and they had decided to have it at a mosque after the Asr prayer. The day was Friday, and they had enough time to prepare for the ceremony. Hareem was now a part of their friend circle, as Rabi had stated. He was with Shavez, while Zaki had gone to the mosque to take care of some errands.

"You don't know what you're confused about?"

"I respect you." He stated. "A lot, for what you're doing."

"I'm honored, but what is that I'm doing for this sudden realization of the respect?" Shavez asked amused.

"You know I have seen people, women, especially who are divorced. Society looks down upon them as if they are from another race. A caste so much lower than theirs, even though those kind souls belong with them. If they stay at their parents' they are a burden and if they are wed again, they are given off to men who are divorced or have kids, their wives are dead and the worst case is that they are married to someone who already has a family."

"Women in our society suffer a lot, I respect you because you chose a different fate for the girl you are going to marry even after knowing that she is a mother," Hareem said with passion evident in his eyes.

"I did not change the fate, Hareem. I prayed" Shavez said.

There was not a single day in those past years that he didn't think of Haya, and whenever she crossed his mind he prayed for her to be at peace, to be happy. He wanted that more than anything else, also, that was the only thing he could give her the rest of his life as he thought.

At first, he attempted to move on from her, hoping to forget about her altogether. He woke up some mornings intending to love her less and not miss her as much, but as the day went on, he found himself missing her more than ever. Despite his efforts to move forward, he couldn't shake off the feelings he had for her.