ESHMA

Chapter 38

The Prophet (SAW) said: Indeed Allah has angels who roam the earth and they convey to me the greetings (or prayers of peace) of my 'ummah (nation).

Some months later

I finished my hospital rounds early, so I decided to treat myself by visiting the local library, a haven I'd discovered since moving to the UK. The library, nestled a few streets away from Aunt Nudi's house, was an old yet modernized gem owned by the endearing Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. I parked Amir's prized BMW X7, courtesy of Areef's mischievous key swiping skills, and stepped into the library's welcoming atmosphere.

The moment I entered, the cool air conditioning and the sweet scent of new books, potpourri, and freshly brewed coffee enveloped me, melting away my fatigue.

"Hello, Mr. Johnson!" I greeted the kindly old man, who sat in his favorite armchair, sipping coffee.

His wife's coffee shop, adjacent to the library, was a match made in heaven. I could indulge in a sip of the world's best coffee while getting lost in the pages of a book, accompanied by a bite of their heavenly cookies.

"Hi, pretty! How are you?" Mr. Johnson asked, his warm smile jolting me out of my reverie.

We exchanged pleasantries, and he recommended a new book, knowing my reading tastes all too well. I collected the book and headed to the cozy café, where Mrs. Johnson greeted me with a warm smile and my usual treat. As I settled into my favorite spot by the transparent glass window, overlooking the street, I became engrossed in my novel.

Just as I was lost in the story, a husky voice interrupted my tranquility. "Mind if I join you?" a stranger asked, his grin hinting at familiarity, though I couldn't quite place him. He wore a black sweater over a gray turtleneck shirt, paired with gray sweatpants and a black beanie, completing his mysterious ensemble.

I gave him a brief, "No," and continued reading, trying to ignore his presence. However, he seemed undeterred, taking a bite of my cookie and remarking,

"Wow, this tastes nice!" His audacity took me aback, who did this guy think he was, sitting down uninvited and helping himself to my cookie?

"I'm no one, and I need no invitation to sit or enjoy your cookie," he replied nonchalantly, his eyes sparkling with amusement, did he read minds or did I said it out

"Besides, the cookie looked inviting." He winked, and I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on my book again.

But my attention kept drifting back to the stranger, who seemed to be savoring my cookie with exaggerated relish. His presence was both annoying and intriguing, like a puzzle I couldn't quite solve.

"By the way, my name is Mujaheed Shaheed," he said, his deep voice low and smooth, like a gentle hum in the background. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself.

"Nice to meet you, Mujaheed," I replied curtly, trying to maintain my distance. But he simply smiled and leaned back in his chair, looking utterly at ease.

As I read on, I couldn't help but steal glances at Mujaheed, who seemed to be enjoying the coffee shop's ambiance. He closed his eyes, inhaling the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, and I found myself wondering what his story was.

What brought him to this quaint library, and what was behind that enigmatic smile? I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on my book, but my curiosity lingered, like a whisper in the back of my mind.

As the afternoon wore on, the coffee shop's warmth and the gentle hum of conversation conspired to lull me into a state of relaxation. Mujaheed, too, seemed to be unwinding, his eyes still closed as he savored the atmosphere.