Rewind (3)

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A/N: Please read Salaah if you have not. Also, this story is one of many on Wattpad made to inspire readers to seek Halaal love. I hope my efforts are not in vain. A huge shout out to all my readers for making this story a success
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ZAID'S POV:
My workplace was a mere few kms away from my home, and on most days I tried to walk there. A few times I had attempted to begin a morning exercise routine but it didn't work out due to my tight schedule. I heaved a sigh as I hoisted my backpack that doubled as a Juzdaan on my shoulder. Mr Rajkumar was a kind man and never made an issue if I was late, but punctuality was important to me. Besides, Mr R had informed me of a class excursion to the Outdoor Haven where I worked, so I had to leave extra early to ensure that the tour guides as well as instructors had enough time to prepare.
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I had worked extra diligently that morning, earning myself some free time to play basketball. I simply adored basketball, not because I was good at it, but because it was a release catch for me. My watch read 7:40, but I assured myself that I wasn't in a hurry, and 10 minutes to score a few more times wouldn't hurt.

The sound of footsteps stopped me in my tracks and I automatically looked at the time. 8:15!!! Not only would I be late for Madrassah but the school had arrived, their colourful dresses creating a rainbow blur approaching me. I heard someone fall, and a teacher help her up. "Take her to the bathroom," the teacher instructed a pupil. "Go find an instructor for directions." Just then the girl noticed me, with my 'Let's rough it!' T-shirt, and ran to me, obviously mistakening me to be an instructor.

About 15, the girl shyly asked where to go. I enquired as to why, and the teacher then beckoned to me to come take the girl myself.

I didn't see the girl, rather I allowed her friend to help her until we reached the bathroom and the other girl signalled that she needed to return to her class mates. At the same time, my phone vibrated in my pocket, a message from my Sheikh informing me that lessons had been cancelled for today because his aunt had passed away. I replied with an Innalilahi Was innah ilayhi rajioon and heaved a sigh of relief that I would not be late for classes AGAIN!

I told the girl to lean on me for support, but she refused. I turned to face her, slightly curious as to why. At first I couldn't see who she was or even what she looked like, not that I wanted to look, but I could see the top of her white embroided hijab. She lifted her head and said boldly, 'I am capable of doing it myself," and stormed into the bathroom. It was only then that I saw the nasty gash down her arm, the blood forming a crust around it, hardened. Her black skirt had maroon patches where blood had dripped and her shirt was stained quite badly.

I followed her into the bathroom. Any decent person would. She was only 15 after all, six years my junior. Hesitantly I asked her if she had any ointment and she shook her head, which I took as a no. Running to the staff room of the centre, I became aware of the fact that her group had left, leaving me to wonder how on earth she would rejoin the group.

Zam Buck, antiseptic and bandage in hand, I returned to the bathroom where the girl sat dabbing the still flowing blood with toilet paper. She looked up when she heard me, then bowed her head once again, giving me a split second to see her face. Unintentionally and mostly out of curiosity, I looked at her and something told me that she was vaguely familiar. I had seen someone with similar facial features, though it might have been for just a fleeting moment.

"Uhm... Uh...What's your name?"

"Husna"

"Oh well H..h..Husna. I... Am... Goingtotakeyouto y.y.your group."

Husna. The name rang a bell. Husna Yusuf. The girl I had seen at the supper. She looked like her too! That surely meant... She was THAT Husna?!

Her gaze lowered, she mumbled something about being able to find her way without me, but I still felt responsible. So, in order to ease her discomfort, I walked ahead and led the way, coughing when we reached our destination and then turning away. Now for Sheikh.

My other sheikh who taught me kitaabs was less lenient, but I would try my best.

"Maaf Sheikh. I won't be able to attend Madrassah today as I am only leaving work now. Slight mix up. Maaf again"

"Wslm. Don't worry son. Just remember to read the next chapter of all your kitaabs and give me a detailed explanation tomorrow."

With that, I sat on the bench outside where the school children were doing their activities, watching for the girl in the white scarf. Throughout the day, I was aware of my flitting gaze, and the inconsistent thudding of my heart.

For the next year, she was all that I could think of. That little thief had stolen my heart.

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