Behind My Smile

Part 6

Part 6:

Aslaan did not make out my voice. Years of living in London had polished my accent more than I even realized.

" Whose calling" he asked, still sounding like the Aslaan that I knew and had loved...I was silently wondering if I should speak up or place the receiver back down without uttering a word. I sat there, with Aslaan's presence so close to my ear, relishing in the sound of his breath as I closed my eyes to fight back the stinging hot tears pooling in them and then he said "Saffiya? Is it you?"....

As if a treasure chest had suddenly flung wide open releasing hundreds, thousands of butterfly's, my emotions washed over me, drowning me like I was lost at sea. Everything that I once felt for him returned instantly as the memories washed through my eyes.

But it wasn't time for us yet. Will it ever be time for us to be together?

I told him nothing about Zayaan or the real reason that I called him. Instead I told him that I was fine and that I was happy. I said that I had a daughter and she was the Nur (light) of my life. He was so ecstatic, so happy for me.
He said that he was married with two boys and another one on the way. My heart sank to the bottom of the ocean that I was lost within! I knew then that this ship had probably sailed a long time ago and I was just standing there at the bay waiting to see if it would perhaps one day return for me, to scoop me up and carry me away. But it never would. All that I would ever have of our time was memories ...

How could I crash a violent wave over his peaceful existence by telling him that I was now ready to be with him? If I loved him, would I do that to him, to his home? I painfully swallowed prickling tears as I told him how happy I am to hear that he was a successful lawyer and family man. He didn't mention that the gates to his arms were still open, waiting achingly for me. I guess he closed them when the mother of his children entered through them, and rightly so....

That was the last time that I spoke to Aslaan. I made peace with the fact that I would never get to live the life that I once dreamed of. That's okay, I thought, I'll make sure that Layya lives my dream by being blissfully happy, by being allowed to choose for herself, Insha Allah....

But what about Zayaan? Like me, would he be stuck in this limbo unable to escape the claws of the past, the claws of tradition while living a life void of love and affection as he tended to sick children daily, sneaking away with each free moment that he could find to steal an illicit hug or a kiss from her? I could not allow that! I would not live a life like that! It was wrong and unfair but not just to me.... It was wrong and unfair to us all.

And so I asked him to take her as a second wife.

He looked at me in disbelief! As if he was looking at a ghost. It was like I had asked him to hand over his soul to me! It seemed unfathomable to him. A cloud of grey settled in his eyes as what I asked registered in them. I felt anxious about my choice but not for me, anxious for my child. However, I knew that I would make Layya understand that this was accepted in islam and one day I would relay the tales of devastation that ripped through four innocent lives. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. I began to feel lighter and less anxious. So what if people looked down on first wives, I thought. At least two out of four people would get their happily ever after. I would set the stage for those to come after to show, to teach, to inspire that culture, tradition and egos play no part in the design of a successful life but following Sunnah and the commands of Allah does! My thoughts didn't get to run far enough before Zayaan pulled me back down to earth.... He looked at me as if I had just committed a heinous crime as he said, " I can't. I won't. What would my mother say? She would never allow it!"

I stood there frozen and motionless! I was angry! I was livid! Would culture, tradition and stigma follow me for the rest of my days? Is there no way that I could be free of them? Is there no place to hide and safeguard me from their ill effects!
I tried to reason with him, I tried to make him see and to understand. But he wouldn't! What he was doing was wrong, he said, he knew it was and so he promised me that he would walk away from her, for good... " But I don't want you to!" I pleaded with him! I guess the effects of culture and tradition coursed violently through his veins as he worried what would people say or think and what about his mother!

I guess that's the crux of most existences, we live in the hope of gaining acceptance and approval. We yearn for this, we crave it and we bend and stretch and conform until we get it. But from who are we seeking it? From people whom we'll never please anyway? While the All Merciful Allah who is so easy to please has laid out a perfect path for us to follow, that of Sunnah and Quran. Why then are we so consumed with what mere mortals think?

I guess something's we'll never change no matter how hard we try to. Sometimes we become the exact persona of those we promised ourselves we'd never turn into. Sometimes no matter how fast or how far we run from the past, it never ceases to chase us....

Zayaan and I lived a union of picture perfect happiness, but that's all that it was, a pretty picture and nothing more. He left his one true love and gave himself to Layya and his hospital ward of children in every way. I was just an adornment to his life and he was just an accessory to mine. We were nothing more, perhaps even nothing less.

And that's just the sum of some lives... Until we live again through someone else's eyes. I awaited living happiness through Layya's happiness. I promised myself that no matter what Umar or his mother thought, felt or said, Layya would have a choice in who she gets to wed! I guess that every mortal lives with the hidden hope of perhaps one day, maybe someday, events will turn and who knows, I may even get to live happiness through my own eyes.... Allah knows better than we do.

The end

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Aww its over..

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LOTS OF LOVE

SALZ ❤️