Holding on and Letting go [Complete]

14) She's a fighter.

"AsSalamuAlaikum! Khala," Ayat said as she hugged Sabeen from behind and then pulling up a chair took her seat at the dining table from across Sabeen from where she was sprawled on the love seat.

She was wearing a fluffy white top adorned with black buttons, and light blue denim jeans with an immaculately folded hem stopping just above her pearly white sneakers.

Sabeen who was forking the scrambled eggs placed in her plate lifted her chin up and offering her salaam asked in all seriousness. "Ayat bacha, you sure about this?"

"About what?" she asked as she stripped the banana half off its yellow gown and even though she knew what sabeen was talking about, she pretended she didn't.

Her wound hadn't been healed completely but it was healed enough to allow her to continue going to university.

"You very well know about what." Propping her elbows on the ebony table and leaning forward, Sabeen retorted.

"What is in it to be so sure about, khala? I go to university daily. Taking two weeks break doesn't mean anything has changed," she exclaimed before biting into banana.

She knew everything had changed but she had to pretend that it hadn't. This is the only coping mechanism to survive in this cruel world. You have to act ignorant and hide your scars under a façade because if you don't and surrender to the cruelty this temporary abode possesses, its slaves swallows you.

Yes, SLAVES! Everyone is a slave in this spinning folly. If we tarry here a bit longer, it tricks us into believing that it would be forever and then just when we have reached the apex, just when we have achieved what we've been craving for, it collapses.

"But what will everyone say?"

Ahh!

What will everyone say?

This sentence. This one particular sentence has killed billions of dreams, millions of hearts, and thousands of people. Just one freaking sentence and the amount of power and influence it holds is insane. But the thing is: people will say whatever they want to say, they will listen whatever they want to listen, they will understand whatever they themselves want to understand and no one can change that. Not you, not me. You could be the sweetest apple in this entire universe and they will still look askance at your sweetness. So it's better if we just let them be and turn deaf ears to their blathers.

"That's their problem, not mine and it shouldn't be yours either," she shrugged nonchalantly, still nibbling her banana.

"But we live in this society and we can't just ignore them. Do you have any idea what will happen the moment you step out of that door?"

"Khala," putting the half eaten banana in the plate, she entwined her hands and placing the elbows on the table, chirped. "You've done masters in Islamiat, right?"

Not understanding the purpose of this sudden question, Sabeen nodded with knitted eyebrows.

"So can you please translate Surah Lahab for me?"

"Don't change the subject," Sabeen warned.

"PLEASE, khala," she stressed.

"I don't know what you are trying to do here but fine." Flipping her hands, she finally gave in.

"Perished be the two hands of Aby-Lahab and he is already perished. His wealth and what he earned availed him not. Now he enters into a blazing fire. And his wife too, carrier of firewood. There is a rope of palm fiber in her neck."

Once she had had translated, Ayat put up a smile and proceeded. "Now, I'm sure you must also know the story behind this Surah. How Umme Jamil used to cast thorns on Hazoor Pak(SAWW) way and how she fabricated a poem in which she called Him a madman(Gog forbid). And how Abu Lahab, her husband, and Prophet(PBUH)'s own uncle, supported her in this blasphemy, all because He was on the right path, because He was preaching the message of Allah Almighty. And yes, I know I'm in no way even a bit like Him but there is one thing common between the both of us. Like Him, I'm also on the right track so facing the consequences is quite obvious and I'm completely prepared for it."