Haaniyaa's POV
The morning rays hit my face as I woke up, and I realized, oh no, I've missed Fajr. I felt like I had forgotten Allah and spent time with Shaytan. I rolled out from under my fluffy blanket and stretched toward the sun, which was shining its warm golden light over me. Rubbing my eyes to clear my vision, I walked to the bathroom, remembering all the chaos from last night. I left my toothbrush in my mouth, quickly put my hair in a bun, and rushed for my phone.
There was a message from my uncle: [I'm sorry]. But for what? Wasn't he coming? What about my hopes? Oh Allah, why do you hurt me so much? Is it because you love me a lot? I love You, Allah. Everything happens for a reason.
I replied, [Assalamualikum, why, what's wrong, Uncle?] He was offline, and I hoped for a good reply.
After freshening up, I walked downstairs, surprised to see everything prepared. What the heck happened? Is everything okay? My aunt came out of the kitchen with sandwiches. Did she hit her head somewhere? Whatever, I was free.
"Assalamualikum, Haaniyaa! Come, my darling. Have your breakfast. I didn't wake you because you had a party last night," she said.
What? Oh my god, what happened to her? Is she okay?
"What?" I exclaimed.
She smiled, acting like a movie star. Then my eyes caught the man I had seen last night. Was he still here?
"Walaikumsalam, Aunt. I'll be down soon," I rushed to the dining area. I gave him a smile, and he returned it. "Assalamualikum, daughter."
"Walaikumsalam... umm?" I hesitated, unsure how to address him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Razeen, your mother's uncle. I had some work in your town and met your dad. He insisted I stay here. I saw you when you were about six or seven; maybe you've forgotten me, little girl. Come, sit," he introduced himself.
I sat down with a smile, feeling like a little girl again.
"Humm, so you're my grandpa?"
"Am I looking that old?" he giggled.
"No, no! I just mean, how should I call you?" I laughed.
"Call me whatever you wish, my sweet girl."
"You know, your mom asked the same question when my brother introduced me to her. She looked just like you," he began to share stories about my mom, and I loved hearing them.
"Grandpa, can you tell me about Mom and her childhood?" I begged.
"Sure, my little girl. I'll be leaving tomorrow, but let's have breakfast first. Maybe I'm hungry," he winked.
We had breakfast together, and then he said, "Shall we go out and talk? I could finish my work while having a partner to walk with."
I rushed to change into a light purple skirt and a blouse, pairing it with a dark shawl. When I ran downstairs, he was waiting for me. He wore black trousers and a beige shirt, casually rolled up, holding an umbrella—just like the old men you see in cartoons. He was a well-built man, despite his age.
"Aunt, I'm going out with Grandpa," I announced.
"Oh sure, darling! Why would you ask for permission when you're going out with your grandpa?" she flirted.
"Oh, Aunt, that was just information, not a request for permission," I teased, giggling. Even a drama needs some jokes, right?
"Al hafiz," she said with a fake smile, trying to hide her frustration as I left.
We walked in silence for a while, and I hoped it would be enough. "Grandpa, you promised to tell me about Mom!"
"Honestly, I don't remember much, but I still hold dear memories of that lovely girl."
"Did you and Mom live in the same house?"
"No, my girl. I worked as a jail guard and rarely visited home. When my brother got your mom, he was so happy to have a daughter. He invited all the relatives for a big lunch. After a while, I was transferred to another town and couldn't visit, but I wrote letters."
"What was Mom's age when you first visited her?" I asked eagerly.
"Oh, so eager to know about her! It was when she was six years old. She came running to say someone had come. Even though she knew me from letters, she had never seen me. Once, we filled a big pot with water and left it open to gather firewood. When we returned, she was already sitting in it!"
"Was she naughty, Grandpa?"
"She wasn't naughty; she was playful. She would ask for a doll or a sweet box for everything. I remember once, my brother promised her a sweet box for joining a class. So, every time she had classes, she would get a sweet box unless she received a doll. She had so many dolls, and if you visited her, she would have given you plenty too. She was such a kind girl.
""I miss her a lot, Grandpa. Don't you have any photos of her from back then? I only have the ones Dad took, and she always says she doesn't know where the albums are."
"They're all at home, my girl. I can't guarantee her photos are there, but there are plenty of dusty albums in the library," he said with a cough.
"Can I visit your home, Grandpa?"
"Of course! Why don't you come with me? You're on vacation, right?"
"But you have to ask Dad and... hmm, Aunt too?"
"I'll get permission, I promise."
"But Uncle promised to come home."
"Oh, is he visiting? Tell him to come over; you'll have some fun changes, right?"
"Wooooooow, that's cool! I would love that vacation!" I started dancing and hopping with joy. Oh my god, what was happening to me? I was dancing in the street. "Ya Allah, grant my wish!"
HAI Buddies what do you think of this chapter?please vote and comment .what has happend to her uncle?and will her father let her go/?
fast fast vote and comment
YOU ARE READING
HABIBI AND HABIBATI
Romance"But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more." ― Hans Christian Andersen. You see? she laid her burdens down, And he just picked them up, Threw them over his shoulders, Reached for her hand, And boldly walked out, Into t...