Journal of a Teenage Muslim.

Chapter 3 : Rainy Day.

I know, it's been long!! But blame school for that! :p

Ok so here's the long awaited chapter, and sorry to keep you all waiting but I hope it's worth the wait :P

My prediction was right, there was a storm last night. And it was still raining outside this morning.

I swallowed the last bite of my cornflakes and took the orange juice bottle out of the fridge and drank straight from it.

"Maydah," Dad made a face at me, I laughed.

I ran upstairs to get my bag.

"Let me give you a ride," Dad offered, "You'll get wet if you walk,"

"Thanks dad," I said gratefully.

The sky was charcoal grey weeping on the earth below, I quickly got into the car and managed not to get wet.

"I hate school," I muttered.

"School? Or the kids?"

"Why can't they just give me a break?" I blurted out, "It's not fair, no one ever tells them off for having such hard hearts and showing off their body to people they don't even know!"

"You have to be careful how you deal with them, they judge the whole religion on just one person's behaviour, and you know examples of that." Dad told me.

"That's not fair," I argued.

"Well, unfortunately that's life, and unfortunately life is not fair.. And who can blame them for thinking like that when that's all there is in the media?"

"I don't know," I said, it's true what he was saying, but still, can't they have a mind of their own?

"And it's not that just my dear," Dad carried on, "That one person caused distress in so many households, so many families were broken. They have the right to be angry.. Maybe it's not right the way the take it out on you or any other of us, but at least we must understand..

School was usual, walk past Haylie and her lot in the morning, day dream at class, write during lunch and then back home. It had stopped raining outside but the sky was still grey.

I remember what my mom used to say about the rain, "Heaven's tears are pouring down on us,"

I smiled remembering those words, I had been so deep in thought that I did not realise the shady green toyota parked outside our house. I immediately knew whose car it was, my aunt's, she was my mom's younger sister. When my mom had passed away, she had been the first one to jump in and help out where ever she could, I hope she cooked some thing, she's an amazing cook and I am starving!

"Salaam (peace) Auntie Aasiah," I greeted her entering the house taking off my boots, she rushed to help me with my coat.

"Still raining outside huh?" She said looking out of the window,

"Yeah," I nodded, "Did you cook any thing?"

"Of course," She laughed heading in to the kitchen and scooping out a huge helping of rice on to my plate.

"It smells great!" I exclaimed digging in right away.

"So how was school?" She asked making small talk.

"Good," I mumbled.

"Ok, well.. How are you? Every thing going ok?" She asked.

"Yeah," I said not wanting to start a conversation.

"Your 'jedda' and 'jedi' (Grandma and grandpa) are worried about you," She started.

"Tell them I'm fine,"

"You tell them that,"

I sighed.

"You should visit them some time Maydah," Auntie Aasiyah told me.

"All they can talk to me is my mom, that's all every one talks to me about, I don't want to talk about her, why does every one think I'm so deeply scarred by what happened to her?"

"Because every one else is, and they are twice or three times your age.. And if it's so bad for them than naturally they're going to think it's worse for you,"

"Well talking about her won't bring her back," I muttered.

"But it keeps the memories of her alive," Auntie Aasiyah stated.

I rolled my eyes, it hurt too much to keep memories of her, looking at pictures of her was bad enough and now they expect me to talk about her too?

"Maydah, I understand how hard it is, but your not alone, we're all-"

"You don't understand!" I blurted, "She was my mom, I barely knew her, you never lost your mom! Your mom is still with you today, my mom will never be with me. She's gone."

"I do understand," Auntie Aasiyah said softly, "She was my sister, I knew her my whole life, she was my best friend, loosing her was like loosing part of myself, I know how it feels, you're not alone."

"The lunch was great," I said changing the subject.

"Wasn't it?" She grinned.

"I'm going to do my home work,"

"Need help?" She asked.

"No," I said,

Hours later, I heard my dad come home and Auntie Aasiyah leave.

"Hey dad," I grinned.

"Hey Maydah," He smiled hugging me, he looked exhausted.

Dad heated up his food in the micro-wave than sat down at the dinner table, it was only big enough to fit three.

"Did you pray?" He asked me waiting for his steaming food to cool.

"Yeah,"

My dad was very particular with prayers, he says my mom taught him that, the importance of prayers. It seemed like who ever's life she entered, she shone light on it, if only she was there to do that for my life.

"How was your day?" I asked.

"Oh it was a day," He sighed, "Being different is not easy, but being different is what makes us great,"

"Dad I don't get it, what do they want from us? Why do they hate us? Is it only because of one incident that happened eleven years ago? How long will they hold a grudge against us?"

"We must remember, the same way all Muslims are not bad, not all non Muslims are haters.. Buut to be honest Maydah, I don't know how to answer that question. I don't know their reasons for hating us. What happened eleven years ago was with out arguement a terrible tragedy, but what followed after was also a tragedy, scores of our muslim brothers and sisters were killed in an attempt to avenge 9/11, if they hate a whole religion just because of one man.. I don't know what to say. But we too have the right to hate them for the number they killed, and the number responsible for the terrible act.. But we don't."

"Why?"

"You should forgive others like the way you would want Allah to forgive you,"

"Do you forgive them for murdering mom?" I asked softly.

"Jaidah was everything to me, I can't find it in my heart to do so,"