Bowled Over By The Broken

Chapter 7: The Sadistic poet

2nd June, 2016

"Hasbunallahu wa ni'mal Wakil': حَسْبُنَا اللَّهُ وَنِعْمَ الْوَكِيلُ

Allah (Alone) is Sufficient for us, and He is the Best Disposer of affairs (for us)."

Surah Al 'Imran

Chapter 7:

The Sadist poet

Taking off her bag from where it rested on one shoulder, she slung it across as she eased her bike out from the parking, her legs pushing the ground to put the wheels in momentum. Once out, she turned her keys and proceeded home, slightly awed by the direction in which her life was proceeding.

For the first time in life, Anabya had stepped into one of the other most famous universities of the city, apart from the one she had previously studied. She never thought she'd find herself entering these gates for at one point in life, she was so clear of how things would unwind.

After completing bachelors, she was supposed to work for a year or two at Big Brains, then get engaged around that time and a year later, she would get married. She had everything planned out.

She wasn't too career oriented at one point of time when she still believed in magic and fairytales. While she did think it would be great to become something in life, the idea of getting married sounded more appealing.

The idea of stumbling upon a guy, falling in love with him and having her nikah done was totally enchanting. She had even decided what she'd wear. It would be a deep red lehenga and unlike those weddings were brides were made to wear a lot of gold jewellery, she had already told her mum she would wear only one set, which included a choker necklace, a pair of earrings, two bangles and a ring and all of it had to be diamond.

Her mother had just brushed aside her ideas, not even beginning to elaborate how expensive her dreams were, leaving the then teenage girl in her own fantasies.

A bitter smile shadowed her lips as Anabya thought back to the girl she once was. While dreaming was not a bad thing, it was the person's idea of how the picture should be that caused heartbreak.

Planning, overthinking, expecting - we've all done it for things that we weren't even sure would happen. And it's our version of how our life should be that causes storms and turbulence.

It had taken Anabya a heartbreak to realize all of it and now, she was a girl of HasbiAllah.

As she walked into her house, burying her earlier thoughts, she wasn't surprised to find her elder sister sitting on one of the couches as she muttered under her breath while typing on her phone.

"Assalamu alaikum," Anabya called, and as she walked into the kitchen, she suppressed her screams at the scene in front of her.

"Tam," she laughed, "You got to see this."

As Tammara walked inside, both sisters laughed heartily to the scene in front of them and when Aamina joined in the kitchen, she couldn't help her own scolding for her son while sporting an amused grin.

Sulaiman's cup of milk was spilled on the floor and while Snowy furiously licked it off the ground, to give her company, Sulaiman was doing the same. Elbows perched on the floor while lying stomach down, he was doing his best to drink the spilled milk.

"Sulaiman," Aamina chided, picking her boy. "Very bad," she shook her head while she wiped his mouth with her hand, "You don't eat things from the floor."

"Buh Suwayman dink!" He justified his act of drinking and not eating, much to their amusement.

"He is Furqaan's son, he definitely is Furqaan's son," Tammara laughed, pinching his cheek as they walked to the couch.