The Hooded Hijabi

Unexpected Guests

The first rays of the early Tuesday morning's sun fell slanting through my windows. The chirping of the birds somehow sounds magical today as if they're praying to their Creator; as if the morning ritual of glorifying their Lord is their favorite part of the day.

I pull of the duvet and get out of bed feeling quite light, maybe even happy. My dissertation's finally uploaded and I had a really nice time 'hanging out' with Him last night.

I should get something for Mustafa. I sit back on my bed, my hair all messed up and eyes groggy when Ali knocks on my door. How do these women in movies look so dazzling when they wake up? I'd still probably look like a half-dead llama. Pch! I open up the door and he hands me my laptop.

"Thought you'd be awake for fajr. Here. Donal rushed to a computer center to get it fixed for you. Poor lad, he was pretty devastated thinking that he messed things up for you. But really, Api, the virus was already in there. Even Donal couldn't do any of his work", says Ali.

I simply nod and place the laptop on my bedside table after which I head to the bathroom. What should I get for Mustafa?

I begin to think of a hundred possible gifts, as I brush my teeth, until all I can think of is ramen. Ramen? Seriously, Amina? He likes my brownies. But no, that's so lame. I should get him something nice. Oh! I could get him a nice pair of joysticks. He's practically playing Fifa all the time so they could come in handy someday.

After having performed wudhu, I offer my fajr prayer and recite a portion of the Quran. I wish I could recite as beautifully as him. I brood over my inabilities and read the translation of the Arabic portion. I look at the picture of Kaabah pasted on the white wall in front of me. "Please. Please, Allah. Call me soon", I whisper to the One closest to me.

I walk into the kitchen smelling of French toast and fresh strawberry juice. Ma flips a French toast on the sizzling frying pan while Ali is resting his head on the white, wooden dining table. I clap him on his back, he raises his head and squints his eyes at me and rests his head back.

"What's with him?", I ask Ma.

Ma takes a quick glance and puts plates on the table. "Didn't get much sleep. Was working on an assignment last night. I've told him a hundred times to study after fajr prayer but no, he has to do everything late night. No wonder he his health is deteriorating", Ma rants as she sets the breakfast table.

I pout and widen my eyes, trying not to comment on how she was taking it a little too seriously. But then I remember my school days. It's in our genes I guess. The Malik family has night owls. We can't study much during the day and unfortunately there's not much we can do about it. 

"I'll be a bit late today, Ma. Have to complete some assignments with Rachel at the library", I inform my mother as I walk out to the garage with an apple in my hand.