Hamza and Amy's Romantic Journey

Chapter 2

Amy Faber

"The silence might just drive me crazy," I said to Hamza while he flicked through the channels on the TV. I didn't quite realise how noisy Adam and Maria were.

"It's weird isn't it, we never noticed the silence this much when they were out or asleep, or the occasional times they were just behaving. Knowing that it's not going to start up soon makes it worse. Louder."

"I'm really considering kidnapping them. And Safia too. And I guess then we'll have to kidnap Yusuf along with them," I suggested.

"Yes, and hold them here against their will."

"They'll come around, eventually. Besides, Adam and Maria would be held here with full consent. They didn't even want to move!"

"Fair point. Let's do it!" Hamza came forward from his seat. "We'll go in the middle of the night. You take Maria, I'll take Adam. We'll leave a note saying where they are. When Safia and Yusuf come to get Adam and Maria, we trap them in the house. Ta dah! Kidnapping successful!"

"But what if only one of them come?" I asked, seeing if there was any other flaw in this plan.

"Then we trap them, eventually the other will follow. You can't keep Safia and Yusuf apart. People have tried and failed." I felt a little pang of guilt at having suggested it once, long ago. But I had only known Yusuf as being Javed's angry brother then.

Now that I had gotten to know him and seen first hand how much he loved Safia, and how much Safia loved him, I pray that they stay strong and grow old together. I was really wrong in my initial judgement of Yusuf.

"We really need babies of our own," I said, longingly. I was getting more and more worried about this. Hamza and I had been married for over five years now. We'd been trying for a baby for a least two years, but generally around three years. 

"We will, In'sha'Allah, when the time is right." Hamza sounded like he didn't seem bothered at all. He reminded me that we were still young. He wasn't in a rush to become a father but I know he did desire it. I saw it in the disappointment that flickered in his eyes every month when I gave him the news of my failure. But it was quickly concealed by a smile and words of optimism.

This was one of the several aspects of Hamza that I adored about him. His light-hearted attitude and joy that he spread everywhere he went. The way he made everyone smile by being his silly self. But many times, I saw a side to Hamza which very few privileged people got to see. The deep thoughts and concerns beneath the jokes and laughter.

Often, the concerns were around my family and I felt both bad and flattered about his concern for me. I felt bad that the state of what family I had left worried him and I also felt bad that he thought so lowly of them. Well, thought so lowly of my sister at least. He was somewhat okay with my dad. They had a tense but civil relationship.

I moved closer to Hamza and began to stroke his thick hair. It reminded me of Safia and her obsession with Yusuf's 'cat fur' as she called it.

"I miss Safia," I said, curling myself up before resting my head on Hamza's lap. 

"There there, you'll get over her," Hamza replied, patting my head.

"Miss her with me!" I demanded. Hamza began to pretend cry.

"Oh my dearest sister, where haveth thou gone?" He flicked away a fake tear and we both burst into laughter. "Doth thou mock my pain?"

"Yeah I mock your pain, what are you going to do about it?"

"Live on, in agony," Hamza responded with a hand on his heart.

"You are so dramatic," I said, getting up. "You're worse than how Jasmine used to be." The reference to my sister made the atmosphere a little tense. Hamza didn't like talking about her after I told him of how I was treated when I went to her and her husband in Germany. That, and the fact that they didn't attend Ma's funeral or my wedding.