Divine Affinity

Blink: It's all different now

It had been 7 weeks since my graduation day. I still shuddered at the thought of myself being a qualified medical Psychologist. How did I get here so quickly? I obviously cannot say that it was a dream ride, my journey up here, no way! I remember quite vividly the stormy nights and bitter cold days that my father would be working far away in the mines, earning and saving penny by penny, day by day to fill my tuition. I can still hear my mother's prayers to God for my success. I can still feel her hands, rough from 16 hours a day of sewing and stitching for an extra buck, awaken me at 4am to recite my prayers and take the 5am bus to campus each day. Oh those were dark and painful times no doubt. But then, on that faithful day of graduation, when the professor announced "Aasmaa Sayed, Bachelor of Physcology", the aching pain in each of our hearts found ease and the sparkle in my parents' eyes made me feel as though life was complete. I had just joined our local hospital and was aiding in counseling victims of an earthquake which took place just a few miles from our hometown of Sasailia, which was a little farm area just north of Italy. The pay is not magnificent but it is sufficient and keeps my father out of the cold.

It was late one Wednesday evening when I finally got home from work. Upon reaching my street I noted an increasing crowd gathering. Curious as to what the matter was I quicked my pace only to find that the crowd densed outside my door. My heart leaped into my throat, fire running through my lungs. I ran inside, passed teary faces until I reached my mother, screaming and wailing. NO! no no no no no no no! This cannot be happening, not my father please lord no! Before I could help myself a piercing cry escaped from my throat and I couldn't help but break down. The pain inside was too much, too much... After that it was all a blur: the funeral, the explanation of it being a heart attack, the condolences all filled with wretched sympathy and the tears of my mother's, of mine. Weeks passed by almost mechanically and little did I know that that one knock on the door would change my life, forever.

It was mid july, a cold, windy morning when I heard the door bell sound. Knowing fully mum's painful state, I rushed to answer before the sound could bother her any further. At the door I discovered an elderly couple, both lavishly dressed, light eyed. The lady's style of hijab (scarf) was so beautiful and unusual immediately indicating that they were not from here.

Aasmaa: Assalam... can I help you?

Man: Wslm... my name is Ahmed Qurayshi and this is my wife Fatima Bibi. I knew your father well, he worked for me many years ago in Persia.

Ahmed Qurayshi... I had heard my father speak of him many times. "A saintly man" my father would call him. A man my father claimed to owe his life to. My trail of thought suddenly being terminated by my realization of my lack of courtesy, I invited the couple in, asked them to sit and called for mother. Mr Qurayshi greeted my mother with his sympathies and stated that he came with purpose. I was sent to prepare tea but my ears strained to listen.

Ahmed Qurayshi : Mrs Sayed, as you know your husband and I had a brotherly relationship. When he wanted to leave Persia and start a life here, I was only thrilled to lend him the money. He however, had great pride and settled on a loan that came with a contract which has almost nearly expired. I would gladly pay the sum but that according to law will not be allowed. The amount mam is far above 10 000 dollars...

Mrs Sayed: 10 000! Mr Qurayshi you must understand we are a simple people, we've never seen more than a few notes at a time. 10 000 dollars, I couldn't pay that if I worked 5 lifetimes long.

Ahmed Qurayshi: I absolutely understand that mam. That is why I have come with a proposal. You have a young, beautiful daughter who is of age and so is my son. if they were to marry, I could legally pay off your debt in your daughter's name.

Mrs Sayed : We have never forced our daughter into anything and I will not start now. No, we will sell the house and everything we own. We will do anything we have to. I will not sell my daughter.

At that moment my thoughts began to whirl around almost hurricane-like in my mind. I've worked so hard to get here only to marry a stranger and move away? NO. Then again, a 10 000 dollar debt, we could never pay that off. The worry in my mother's eyes seemed to make my decision for me and before I could catch my tongue, I stepped into the room: I accept this proposal Mr Qurayshi. I will marry your son.