It was a quiet evening a couple of days after the dawath. The house was still, save for the hum of the kitchen, where Hidayah's mother prepared the evening meal. Her father, sitting in his usual spot by the window, glanced over at her with a look that made Hidayah's heart race. She had known this conversation was coming, but nothing could have prepared her for the heavy weight of their words.
Her father set down his newspaper and folded his arms across his chest, his voice steady but serious.
"Hidayah, I've been thinking about what you told us the other day," he began. "A young man—this Aaron—has expressed interest in marriage, you say?"
Hidayah nodded slowly, her throat dry. She had spent the last couple of days going over the conversation with her parents in her mind, trying to figure out how to present her case in the best light. But now, as she faced her father's stern gaze, she felt small.
"I've thought about it too," her father continued, his voice measured but firm. "And I'll be honest with you, I have concerns. You're only twenty-one, Hidayah. You haven't even finished your studies yet. You haven't started your PGCE, and what about your career? How will marriage affect that? You still have so much to accomplish in your life, and marriage... marriage is not just about love. It's about responsibility. You'll be starting a new chapter in your life, one that takes time, focus, and effort."
His words stung, but Hidayah knew he wasn't saying them out of malice. He was her father, and his responsibility was to ensure she was making the right decision, even if it meant sounding harsh.
"But Abba," Hidayah replied, trying to keep her voice calm, "I don't think my career or education needs to come to a stop if I marry. I'm not ready to give up on my dreams, but marriage doesn't have to mean the end of my ambitions. Aaron supports my goals. He understands the importance of my career, and I can continue my studies even if we get married. It's not a choice between one or the other."
Her father sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I want to believe that, Hidayah. But your studies, your career—they come first. And I need to be sure that whoever you marry understands that. That they will stand by you while you build your future."
Hidayah looked at him with a mix of frustration and respect. Her father had always been practical, driven by the belief that hard work and a clear plan were the keys to success. But she had always been driven by the desire to balance both her dreams and her heart.
Before she could respond, her mother, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. Her voice was softer, but tinged with concern.
"Hidayah, my love," her mother said, her tone gentle but firm. "You know how important culture and family are to us. You're the eldest daughter, and we have expectations for you. You understand that, right?"
Hidayah nodded, her stomach tightening. Her mother's protectiveness had always been one of her defining traits. She had always placed a high value on the preservation of their traditions, on the importance of being close to their cultural roots.
"I know, amma," Hidayah replied, trying to keep her emotions in check. "But Aaron respects our faith and our traditions. He wants to learn more, and he's committed to understanding our culture. He's shown nothing but respect for me and for my family. I truly believe he's a good person."
Her mother's expression softened slightly, but there was still a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "I'm not worried about his respect for you, Hidayah," she said, her voice low. "I'm worried about him understanding our family, our culture. Will he be able to communicate with your uncles? Will he understand what it means to be part of a Bengali family? You're right—we can't overlook the differences in our backgrounds. You are from a very specific culture, and you're expected to marry someone who understands that. How will he fit in with the family, especially at big gatherings like this? I worry that you will be caught between two worlds."
Hidayah's heart sank. She knew her mother was speaking from a place of deep protectiveness, but it still hurt to hear her say that. In her mother's eyes, Aaron was still an outsider—no matter how much he had embraced Islam, he would always be different.
Just as she was about to respond, her grandmother, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, slowly stood up and walked over to them. Her presence, though quiet, carried a weight of authority.
"Hidayah," her grandmother said softly, her voice steady but full of wisdom, "I understand your mother's concerns. And I understand your father's worries too. You are young, and I have seen many young women in our family rush into decisions they later regret. But I also know that marriage is not just about cultural compatibility. It is about mutual respect, understanding, and faith. Allah (SWT) has said in the Qur'an, 'And of His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquility in them.' (Qur'an 30:21)
"You must remember, my dear, that marriage is not just about the external things. It's about what is inside—the qualities of the heart, the sincerity, and the respect between two people. If Aaron treats you well, if he supports you in your deen, and if you both share the same values, then that is what matters most. But it is important that you listen to your parents. Take your time and be sure. This is a big decision, and it requires patience and prayer."
Hidayah felt a sense of relief wash over her at her grandmother's words. She had always valued her grandmother's opinion, and hearing her speak with such balance gave Hidayah the strength to continue the conversation.
"But Amma, Abba, I want you to know that I'm not rushing into this decision," she said, her voice steady now. "I know it's a big step, and I'm not taking it lightly. But I can't help how I feel. And I believe that if I wait for the perfect time or the perfect circumstances, I may miss the chance to build something real and beautiful."
Her father's gaze softened slightly, though he remained cautious. "You know we just want the best for you, Hidayah. You're our eldest, and you have the responsibility of leading by example. You've set the bar high for your siblings, and they will look to you for guidance. You need to make sure this decision is the right one—not just for you, but for all of us."
Her mother nodded, though her expression remained conflicted. "I worry about what others will say, my dear. We have always valued our culture, our language. And when people see you marry someone like him, they might judge you. They might say we've lost our way. You know how people talk."
Hidayah swallowed hard but nodded in understanding. It wasn't just about her and Aaron—it was about her family's reputation, the expectations they had set for themselves, and their place in the community.
Her grandmother placed a hand on Hidayah's shoulder, her grip gentle but firm. "My dear, marriage is a journey, not a destination. Take your time. Trust Allah, and trust yourself. And remember, no one's opinion matters more than your own heart."
Hidayah looked at her family—her father's concerned face, her mother's guarded expression, and her grandmother's wisdom-filled gaze. They wanted what was best for her, but their love for tradition and cultural values felt like a barrier between her and the future she wanted with Aaron.
Feeling the weight of the conversation, she knew she needed to approach this delicately. She took a deep breath and gathered her courage.
"Amma, Abba... I hear your concerns, and I understand them," Hidayah said, her voice calm but firm. "But I truly believe Aaron is someone who could fit into our family. I want you to see for yourselves. I'd like to invite him over for dinner. Let him meet you, speak with you, and perhaps you'll see the same qualities I see in him."
Her father raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "You think this will make a difference?"
"I do," Hidayah replied, meeting his gaze with a sense of resolve. "You'll have the chance to speak with him directly. Get to know him—not just as a man, but as someone who values family, faith, and respect."
Her mother exchanged a glance with her father, both unsure. But Hidayah could tell they were softening.
"Let's not make any hasty decisions," her father said after a long pause, his tone a little less firm. "We will meet him. But don't expect us to change our minds just like that."
Her mother nodded slowly, her voice quiet but thoughtful. "Fine, Hidayah. We'll meet him. But don't think this changes anything just yet."
Hidayah let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Thank you," she said softly, grateful that they were at least willing to meet him.
Her grandmother smiled at her, a proud, knowing look
YOU ARE READING
Our Journey
Spiritual*UPDATES TWICE A WEEK* As the new school year begins, Hidayah Ahmed, a vibrant and confident 21 year old, is ready to embrace her first job while navigating her faith and ambitions. Back living with her family after university, she grapples with anx...
