My mind immediately began to settle. The jitters about meeting a man I'd never seen, but who might want to marry me seeped away. Thoughts about what to expect on my wedding night faded from my mind. The thoughts of leaving my family and even my upcoming first day of college scheduled for the following week also dissipated. Breathing slowly, I instead began to recall the stories about this special day of Ashura.
Before Muslims were commanded to fast for the holy month of Ramadan, they were ordered to fast on the Day of Ashura. It was the 10th day of Muharram, the first month of the Muslim calendar. It was the day that Prophet Moses, and the children of Israel were saved from the Pharaoh when God created a path through the sea which they used to escape and then drowned Pharaoh in its depths. It was also the day that Prophet Noah, after all of his time at sea, finally left the Ark. This was also the day that Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) arrived in the city of Madina after much persecution in Mecca. Prophet Muhammad also said that fasting on this day wiped away all the sins of the previous year.
The blessedness of the occasion began to fill me with warmth. I felt the love in the circle of people surrounding me- my parents, sisters, brother, and best friend. And the soothing sound of my father's Arabic prayer brought a sense of calm and serenity to my soul.
After a few moments, we began to dhikr in one melodious voice over and over, chanting:
La ila ha ilallah, La ila ha ilallah, La ila ha ilallah ...
There is no God but Allah. There is no God but Allah. There is no God but Allah.
Our bodies began to rock with the rhythm of the praise by their own accord. Some of us rocked front to back, others side to side. Us ladies gently bumping shoulders every so often. With our minds empty of worldy thoughts and filled with the remembrance of God, our bodies also gave in to the rapture and began to sway in a trance like euphoria.
Ding dong, ding.
The doorbell rang, breaking our reverie.
Abu ended the chant quickly by issuing one drawn out word:
Al Faaaaaaatiha.
Joseph jumped up to answer the door while everyone else quickly recited surah Al-Fatiha to themselves, the first chapter of the Holy Quran, and only seven short verses. Cupped hands held in front of our chests as if to catch the blessings falling down before us, we each wiped our hands gently over our faces and stood up as we finished the short recitation.
Umi sighed audibly and smiled to no one in particular. Abu's knees made a popping noise as he rose to his feet. Daddy's getting old, I thought. Suddenly my hand was filled with someone else's. I looked down to find Sarah holding my fingers tightly. I squeezed before letting go to wrap my arm around my younger sister's shoulder.
"I love you too sis." I whispered in a low voice. And then I straightened my back and resigned myself to fate, "Here we go."
YOU ARE READING
Holding Hands
General FictionThere's no such thing as boyfriend/ girlfriend in Malika's Muslim community. So she just happens to be a super-virgin. She's quiet and reserved, never talked to a guy, kissed one, let alone even held hands. Sex is the scariest word she's ever heard...
