Mastoorah ✓

The Love

Faraan

Today was the first Ramadan. As I woke up from a small nap, it was already eleven in the morning. I barely slept for one and a half hours. My sleep time had drastically reduced for many years. After fajr, as I was done with my daily supplications, the cool atmosphere of my room had perhaps put me to slumber.

I left the bed and headed towards the washroom. As I got freshened up by carefully caring for my fast by not letting water reach inside my mouth by any means, I changed into a white shalwar kamez. Placing a white round cap over my head, I respectfully held the tasbeeh and Holy Quran in my hands. It was the first Friday of the Ramadan and I had to give a sermon related to this sacred day today in the mosque.

It reminded me of what happened of twenty-one years ago. When I was coated by sins and filth but one day, I heard a sermon and that was too on Friday. Listening to it had changed my life altogether Alhamdullilah. Allah SWT is very merciful and we the humans were the ones who couldn't be grateful to HIM enough.

فَبِأَيِّ آلَاءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ

Then which of your Lord’s favours will you ˹humans and jinn˺ both deny?1 

(Surah Ar -Rehman)

As I reached the lounge, I found Mama, Dad, and my sister occupying the main sofas. Fiza was a married woman now and a mother of two kids. They all smiled and replied to my greeting with love. Time changed dramatically indeed and even now, Mastoorah was getting married to my brother's son Iyad.

Last month, they got engaged as a mutual agreement between both the kids and their parents alongside Mastoorah's Aunt Hania. And I wasn't included in that. It was such a crucial decision in my daughter's life and I, her father, wasn't a part of that. However, how could I become one? I was a horrible father who had killed my child's mother and if it wasn't for Allah's miracle, she would have died too. I was a disgusting man who couldn't stay loyal to any relationship, not to even my own blood.

Many times I got a feeling to tell Mastoorah the truth. But every time I withheld. I was her beloved Uncle Faraan now with whom she shared her many issues. She came to me bringing her inner turmoil and even was learning the translated version of the Holy Quran from me. If I would disclose that I was her father, she would hate me. She would hate this life and everyone around her. The love Mastoorah was getting from here and reciprocating it to them was very pure. My baby would get hurt alongside my whole family as well. It was better if I would remain that anonymous Uncle Faraan for her.

Telling her the truth would not bring anything other than misery for her and everyone else.

Iyad was a brilliant and nice kid. He reminded me of Faris in his age. The same practical, nice, goal-oriented, soft-spoken spoken, and gentle person who just wanted to keep everyone happy around him. He would keep my Mastoorah very happy; that was for sure. And what else would I need when my daughter was going to get married to my nephew? She would remain in front of my eyes and in people who would always cherish her. In my every prayer, I included Mastoorah and her happiness.

When I walked through the hallway leading to the main gate, I found Mastoorah in the garden. She was reciting the Holy Quran, sitting on the round chair which was getting a shadowed by an umbrella.

Just like Marium.

She saw me and then kissed the cover of the precious Book before covering it respectfully with its cover. She smiled when she came over to me.

"AssalamoAlaikum Uncle Faraan," she greeted me.

"Walaikum Assalam, beta. May Allah bless you." I didn't know why I wanted to give her this dua.