Him & His Muslimah

18

Zaib

Asr usually finished faster than usual prayers but today he stayed in prostration longer than Fajr. His tense heart found ease being close to Allah. His eyelids were rolled shut and his heart paced hard.

What was he thinking?

His chest was flooded with bitterness and it was difficult to breathe without falling short of air. He acknowledged the sensitivity of the situation. Zoya Malik didn't know much about him. They hadn't talked much neither had they had enough encounters.

All those facts were crystal clear but those short meetings were enough to draw him to her and he had presumed she'd at least think about the idea of him as her future husband.

What went so wrong for her to outright decline the proposal and break his heart?

He heaved a sigh and made his duaa.

"Oh Allah, my fate was decided even before I was given birth. I've asked you for the woman I believe is my partner for this journey—all the way to my afterlife. I've fallen in love and it's painful so please either take me out of this situation or give her to me as a reward."

Abdullah studied his son with a crease of concern on his forehead. He fiddled with his beard as he thought about how to handle the situation. It had been the first time ever had Zaib asked them for something. And it wasn't even him who had spoken for his needs but Zain. His frown grew deep as he sighed in sadness.

Zaib was the perfect son. Abdullah sternly believed that his reward for the patience throughout his life struggling for money had paid off with Zaib's presence.

Why couldn't he do anything for his son when he finally asked for someone precious?

Abdullah stood from the prayer mat and walked off outside the mosque.

Zaib didn't notice as he prayed for her.

-:-

The mass of children chattered among themselves as they sipped their mango juices. Unease settling in his chest brought him to the only place he considered peaceful: Masjid Al-Hadith. But instead of entering the holy place, he remained under the wide sky watching from afar.

The brightness of the day seemed to mock his gloomy eyes as he shifted uncomfortably, biting his bottom lip. In a matter of silent minutes, his phone began to ring.

He pulled it out from the pocket of his jeans only to read the callers ID, 'Ehsan'. He accepted the call.

"Where are you right now?" The greetings weren't necessary as Ehsan already knew everything. His father must've told him.

"Somewhere peaceful."

"I'm coming—" and the phone switched off even before Zaib could persist his offer. Zaib sighed. He didn't want anyone to spill comforting words at him. He just wanted to be left alone until his heart finally found the will to stop hurting.

Zaib's gaze sprawled to the masjid again and this time with addition to the group of kids having the time of their lives, he noticed a little girl walking up to him speedily. He stared.

Blustering of the wind caused his eyes to narrow as the girl finally approached him. It was the little brown haired cranky pants, Maya who had approached him with her sealed mango juice in her right hand's grip.

She smiled adorably before extending her bottle towards him. Zaib stared amusedly. This brunette who had little sweetness and truckloads of sass had finally treated him respectfully? He almost chuckled but decided against it fearing she'd withdraw the respect.