The Anthem of the Rebels | ✓

[14] Nikkah

Chapter Fourteen

Nikkah; a legal contract of the marriage between a bride and a groom. 

On a certain Thursday afternoon, when the sky was a clear blue; a town masjid in Islamabad was the venue for such a beautiful event.

On the carpeted floor in the women's section, a number of women sat around Amal.. She was adorned in a white dress, with traces of delicate golden work around its hem. Her beige hijab was wrapped around her head, and a golden band glimered on her forehead. She wore light make-up, which she had put on with help from both Eman and Maham, for Amal had declared, long before, that she did not want bridal make-up on her wedding and would not torture herself through hours of getting dressed up at the parlor.

Her heart beating considerably faster, Amal was staring mostly at her henna-covered hands.

While Eman- skilled in the art of henna, had planned on decorating both sides of both her hands, she had only managed to do one side of each, for Amal had gotten tired. On the edge of her right hand, near her wrist- the henna was slightly uneven, and if you looked closely, you would have noticed that someone had tried to write the letter Z. It had been Maham, of course, who had sneakily convinced Eman to get in Zahid's name on her henna, but Amal had caught her just in time and Eman was forced to cover it up with floral designs.

Sana, Eman, Maham, and Mrs. Ahmed sat close to her, Maham making sure to lean forward and whisper a joke or two every few minutes in case Amal got too anxious. Around fifteen-or-so women sat together, consisting of close friends, family, and the few women who had come to pray Asr salah at the Masjid.

The men's section formed an identical picture, except that it was more crowded in comparison. Zahid, in a white kurta and black waistcoat, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sat on the carpeted floor, his fingers subconsciously tapping his thighs. He did not appear as nervous as he felt, trying to focus his attention on Harris and his mentor, Junaid's conversation. 

Usman and Hussain sat at a little distance from Zahid, and while family members sat close by, the men who had come over for the Asr salah remained as well, to join in with the dua's in this blessed moment.

Every couple of minutes, Zahid would have this urge to run a hand through his hair, but he would resist it, muttering dua's and verses under his breath. The Imam finally arrived, and Zahid straightened up as the Khutbah started, his heart beat escalating. 

Her hands clenched in her lap, Amal tried to focus on the Arabic Khutbah that blared through the speakers. She had been at the Masjid countless of times, listened to the Imam more times than she could count- and yet, she felt no sense of familiarity. 

After what seemed like mere minutes, the Khutbah had come to an end and silence ensued. Amal inhaled slowly, trying to calm herself as her father and her brother appeared with the Nikkah papers. Slightly in a daze, Amal was vaguely aware of someone handing her a pen, and her heart rose to her throat as she signed her name, her hands shaking slightly.