Mastoorah ✓

Love to Hate

Faraan

A sharp odor of mud, the feel of abandoned surroundings, and an ancientness struck me as soon as I unlocked the door. I pushed it away and it opened with a creaking sound. As I stepped inside, I tried to abate the fume of old soil by pushing my hand in front of my nose. It was slightly dusk at this part of the day hence considering my own weak eyesight as well, I was having difficulty in making things out. With difficulty, I plopped my finger on the switch board which caused the whole room to be illuminated by white bright light.

My room.

It was used to be my room. It was used to be the room of that filthy, wicked, and sinful Faraan. I still hated this room as much as I hated the man I was twenty-one years ago. It showed the clues of the horrific things I was active in doing years ago. I used to smoke here, drink alcohol by hiding it from my family, listen to music, and watch useless movies here. And worst, I made innocent girls fool by luring them into my fake love here.

After I had gone to prison, Mama had locked this room on my wish. Since I was back, I have been using another room. And now as I saw; there was a net of spiders even on everything. My bed which was so dear to me was also rotten. The picture of mine on the wall behind was covered with mud and a net.

Now as I came here, it was for tidying up this room. Whatever it was, it was still a part of this house. I should really see what I was in the past and how I became in the present. I should be happy that I was reformed by Allah's grace. I did the cleaning myself. I didn't like to again become like an arrogant king who just knew how to hurt people.

From removing the old, broken bottles of alcohol, and the packets of cigarettes, to removing every bit of my previous clothes which were something laced with sins and now I couldn't wear those, this room seemed more of a Muslim person now.

As I was done with clearing my photo frame with a clean cloth, I placed it in my wardrobe. But something fell on the floor as I did this. I bent down and held it in my palm. It was a picture of Marium.

Same as Mastoorah.

Perhaps Marium was our daughter's age at the time this picture was clicked. Wearing a scarf over her head, she looked exactly like Mastoorah. Did she even know that she had given birth to her before dying? But maybe she did. She came in Mastoorah's dreams.  I hoped I get a chance to ask for forgiveness from her.

Just when I was about to put it back in the cupboard, Mama came into my room. And I couldn't even get a chance to hide it from her as the first thing her eyes did was to follow the picture in my hand. She reached near me and narrowed her eyes meticulously to get a better look.

However, I had made up my mind. When I came into this room, it was to clean up all the indications of that old Faraan from me. I should tell this to everyone that I wasn't the same as before. And I was more than capable of taking care of my every relationship.