PROLOGUE.
*
"Creativity is intelligence having fun"
-Albert Einstein-
*
Numerous trophies lined the white walls on the small shelves. Medals hung in wooden frames on the wall alongside photo frames. A few pictures of a family were hung beside the medals. Sounds of a child's laughter rang through the house, along with a female laugh.
"Islah! Come eat" she called out to the young child of about 5 years running around. He had bright blue-gray eyes with dark brown hair. His hair matched his mothers and nothing else did. The female, with soft brown eyes and dark brown hair which was pulled in a bun, smiled at him.
"Islah, don't make Ummi run. The baby will get hurt" she told him and the little boy immediately halted on his tracks, peering at her from underneath the lashes of his eyes. He then slowly walked over to her and took a seat on the sofa. His mother smiled at him taking a seat beside him with a tray of food.
The little boy eyed it wearily.
"Do I have to eat?" he questioned her in Arabic and she nodded at him, placing the tray on the coffee table. She turned to her son.
"Your little brain works overtime, Islah. You need energy" she told him, rubbing his head fondly. The boy huffed a sigh and turned to the food before picking up the white plate with rice and chicken. His mother watched him fondly as he slid onto the rugged floor and set his plate on the floor before closing his eyes and saying his prayers.
Once he said his prayers, he began eating with his hand despite the spoon placed on the tray above. His mother shook her head at his usual antics.
"What has my Islah been doing today?" she asked him, running her hands through his hair. Islah looked up at her smiling.
"Algebra. I was trying to solve some" he told her and she rolled her eyes at him.
"How many times have I told you-" the little kid chocked on his food and his mother immediately handed him water, kneeling down to his level.
"How many times must I tell you to eat slowly! Are you okay?" she asked him, rubbing his back and blowing air over his head. Islah nodded at her after drinking water. His mother let out a small chuckle, hitting his shoulder playfully.
"You should not fake such things, Islah" she told him when she realized her son was merely faking it to stop her from talking. Islah grinned up at her before continuing to finish his food.
"When is baba coming home?" he asked his mother.
"Soon. Why?" she asked him and he shrugged.
"Can you check my problems to see if I got them right?" he asked her and his mother sighed deeply. Why does he do this? She thought with a shake of her head. But she knew the answer all too well. Islah was not like the other children. He was exceptionally smart. At the age of 3, when other children are learning to speak, her son was already memorizing the alphabets and numbers. He had great love for the two and somewhat liked them. Since she was a Mathematics Professor and her husband was a computer engineer (cryptographer) and owned an IT company that dealt with cyber security, coding and programming. To top it off, he was also an associate professor at the university where she taught so it only added to Islah's extra developed mind.
She re-called one of her old aunts telling when she was pregnant with Islah, that the child will learn to calculate and crypt things way before he learns his alphabets. Seeing Islah now, it seems what the old aunt had once said as a joke has come true.
"I am done, ummi" he told her mother who nodded at him. He stood up and smiled at her once more before rushing away. Probably to his father's study to complete the mathematical problems that awaited him.
His mother stared after him with a sad smile. Oh Allah, please protect my Islah all the time.
"As salaam alaikum" she turned to see her husband walking over to her. Ahmad Reza-Ibrahim was a handsome man who had achieved so much at the tender age of 36. He did get married late but that's beside the point. His business had been in his family for ages and since he is the successor, he must do everything to make sure it is successful.
He hugged his wife and placed a kiss on her forehead.
"Are you doing okay? How's the baby? And Islah?" he questioned her, rubbing her baby bump with a smile. His wife let out a smile too. Her happiness was her family.
"I am doing good. The baby is doing well. Islah, however...." She let the sentence hang. The father caught the hang of it and let out a small laugh. He placed another kiss on his wife's cheeks causing her to blush.
"Islah is young. He is yet to achieve so much and I am sure he will survive. You need to stop worrying about him" he told her and she heaved a sigh.
"I know, Ahmad. I know. But he is still five and he is doing high school level math. Well he is trying to" she told him and he let out a small laugh.
"One plus one is boring for him. He knows his basics. Don't stress over him! Take care of yourself" he told her and she smiled fondly at him. She placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes in silent prayer.
Oh Allah, please, always protect my family.
What the couple did not know was that there is someone exactly like Islah around the world. And that one day, when they meet; things will change.
****
Hey Guys! As salaam alaikum!
I am back with yet another book. The Zaeef series is on hold for now (still alot of work to do on that one) but. Please do give this book a try. :)
It is written in collaboration with three of my best friends so It is not all my ideas here. :)
Stay safe, stay indoors and wash your hands! We can beat this pandemic!
I love you guys.
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xx,
-aalihha.
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