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Chapter 16: A new wave

24th March 2020

"And upon Allah rely, if you should be believers"

[al-Maa'idah 5:23]

Chapter 16: 

A new wave

4 years later

Your world can be falling apart, or you may be living moments you'd wish could stay forever the same, but time does not stop, does not bend, does not pause even for a fraction of a second. Time does not apologize, it most definitely isn't partial towards feelings or considerate about emotions, it does its job, and goes on and on. Seconds pile together to give us years all stacked up. We don't necessarily live every moment as we should, only to look back and realize the days gone by have given us a treasure chest of memories, lessons, and experiences.

Years later, the tears we once shed makes sense. Time is brutal, but time is also honest. Eventually, everything comes a full circle, the knots even out, tables turn, and once the sand has shifted, the hourglass fills up on the other side and every rotation brings with it a new chance. It is believed that time heals us, or perhaps we heal ourselves with time. Solving the conundrum is of less importance, what matters here is that in the end, it all turns out to be okay, and either way, hearts heal, and every crack finds in itself to fill again with love and hope and kindness.

Rufaida got off the bus and walked towards her house. It had been only a few months since they had shifted to a place of their own, and it felt surreal to even think about it. Mubeena had made it very clear that she was planning on getting Zubair re-married in the coming months, and that she didn't want Asma and her daughter in the house anymore. Since it was the family home and Asma had a part, the reason why she was allowed to stay there for so many years, Mubeena convinced her husband to give his sister her share so they could get done with them. While the amount Asma received was far too less in comparison to what she was meant to inherit, without arguing much, the mother-daughter duo left. They pooled in their savings with the amount of inheritance and bought themselves a tiny, 2 BHK house. Their house would pass as ordinary to an onlooker, but it was nothing less than a palace for them. Decades later, to have a roof over their heads that they could finally call their own was nothing short of a blessing.

Making her way through the lane, Rufaida fished her bag for the house keys, and unlatching the gate, she walked towards the door.

"Assalamu alaikum," she called out upon stepping in, not expecting to see her mum home.

"Wa alaikum as salam," Asma responded.

"How come you're early today, Ammi?" Rufaida asked.

"Took the last period off, I wanted to be home before you," her mother responded.

Giving her a curious glance, Rufaida prodded, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Alhamdulillah," Asma assured, handing over a plate of snacks.

"What's the matter?" Rufaida asked again, certain there was more to this. "Are you missing Nani? Call her again this weekend, I miss her too. We could all spend time together; it's always pleasant to have her home."

"Yes, we can do that, but that's not what's bothering me," Asma finally spoke.

"Okay..." Rufaida trailed off, waiting for her mum to elaborate.

"You always dreamt of having a house of our own, and I've seen you work so hard these years to fulfill that dream. You haven't only been my daughter, Rufi, you've also been the best gift Allah could give me. The world considers a son more valuable than a daughter, but I'd beg to differ, a thousand times over, and I'll still choose you as my daughter over a hundred sons."