Awaited Redemption

...Tuesday Night | Aarifah

Aarifah

I reached the Mosque just in time, and saw that instead of inside, the women were standing outside the Mosque in the little shade at the side where they were concealed by the shadowed building. Hidden from the prying eyes of the crowd, and even the curiosity of each other's gaze.

Some were in the position of prostrating, some were just sitting on the sheets and mats that have been laid out on the uneven ground, some were sitting on the chairs, some were circulating the beads between their fingers; the word of Allah (SWT) on their lips, coming out in puffs of clouds as the exhaling sighs of relief and peace met with the chaotic cacophony of the outside world.

I searched the faces for a familiar round shaped one, that belonged to my beloved mother. As I was doing so, I saw a blur of movement from my peripheral vision, I turned around and saw my mother approaching me with open arms. I inched forward and was soon engulfed in her embrace. Her silk cloak stroking my chilled cheeks.

I inhaled in her scent. It felt like coming home.

Oh, how I missed this.

I raised my head, and looked into her eyes. The street light was reflecting her deep brown oceans.

"Asalam O Alikum Wa Rahmatulla." My mom said, stroking my cheeks.

"Walikum Asalam Wa Rahmatulla, Ammi." I replied.

"How are you my dearest? It seems as if I didn't send you to college but instead married you off to someone who lives half way across the world." She joked, and glittered it with her smile.

"Mom, it is not college, it is university." I corrected her playfully but didn'y comment on the topic of marriage. I wanted to avoid it as best and as much as I could.

"Yeah yeah! College or university, it is all the same." She replied with a hearty laugh.

"Okay," I said, with a tenderness that doesn't seem to surface around anyone else.

"Okay, it is almost praying time, take of your shoes and put them aside, there is no space left anywhere else, so just put them in that corner." She said as she pointed towards a corner, it was located between the wall of the Mosque, and a wooden bench that was accompanied by elderly women who were getting ready to pray with the Imam.

I went over there and placed my shoes in the space provided.

My mom beckoned me towards her, inviting me to come and stand beside her to pray. But there was no space left, so I gestured that I would just pray at the little space left in front of where I placed my shoes.

She nodded her head and I smiled back.

I stood straight, as I saw everyone doing so. It was time to pray.

Soon the loud and clear voice of the Imam made its way into my ears, and drummed my ear drums, vibrating my every vein, and eventually leading it to thrumming my heart.

As the prayer progressed and the word of my Lord enveloped me, every single evil deed I committed flashed across my eyes, from not lowering my gaze, to the unnecessary chats with guys, to not prioritizing my priorities, not giving or even trying to make time for my family, to backbiting, lying, feeling jealous, teasing the spark of anger within me, fuelling it with snark and snide remarks until it turns into a full blown fire, making me erupt like a volcano, to missing my prayers as if they didn't held any meaning to them.

I couldn't do it. Couldn't hold my tears in any longer. I tried to do it, tried to hold them in, I don't want people to see me this vulnerable. I was standing in front of my God, and I don't want to let other get even a glimpse of this side of me. It was only for my Lord.