TRIALS (Completed)

Eight

No matter how old we are or how smart we think we are, we all make mistakes. What’s crucial is to recognize this and quickly set it right. – Mufti Isma’il Menk 

It was the third Saturday of the month. For Kauthar, that meant ‘house cleaning time.’ So just as the sun made its appearance, Kauthar and Barakah were already up and about: cleaning, wiping, sweeping, dusting and moping. 

Later, as Kauthar guided the girls towards the gate to their Islamiyyah, Hoor called, “Mummy?” She turned her head to catch her mother’s eyes.
 
“Hmm?” Kauthar replied. 

“I’ve forgotten my Surah (A chapter of the Holy Qur’an).”

Kauthar eyed her. “Ah, just now now that you read it?” She asked, though she knew the trick Hoor was playing. 

“Lie lie, you just don’t want to go to Islamiyyah, that’s why.” Barakah said, glaring at her.

Hoor returned the glare. “I’m not lying.” She pouted, face scrunched up as if she had smelt something nasty.
Any minute from now, she would burst into her signature tears of terror, which would lead to them finding ways to appease her until the designated time set by the Islamiyyah had passed, and they would have no other choice than to stay at home to avoid the punishment for late coming. 

“Toh, sorry.” Kauthar rubbed the back of Hoor’s head covered by a short blue hijab. “Barakah, remind her of the Surah please.” 

Barakah grimaced in reply, but still mumbled the name of the Surah.

Hoor repeated her recitation till Kauthar flagged down a motorcycle for them. 

“Mummy?” Hoor called again as she sat behind the okada man. 

Kauthar stopped in her tracks and turned to her with a smile. “Yes, my baby.” 

Hoor nodded, impressed with her mother’s reply. “My socks,” she pointed to it as Kauthar’s eyes followed suit. It was her favourite white socks with a blue bowtie around it. 

What could be the matter now?
Kauthar wondered. “Ban ga komai ba o–I didn’t see anything o.” She said, watching Hoor’s face morph into yet another frown. 

“It’s scratching me!” she cried, making scratching movements with her fingers. 

Kauthar sighed. “Ke, better stop this nonsense o.” she wagged a finger at her. 

Just then, Rose’s gate swung open, catching Kauthar and the girls’ attention. Rose came out, wearing a floor length orange hijab, her blue jeans peeking underneath. She was humming to herself, swinging a large trash bag. 

“Aunty Rose.” Barakah called out excitedly. 

Rose turned towards her, lips about to stretch into its usual smile, but then her eyes caught Kauthar’s, and the smile retreated, followed by the light in her eyes. 

“How are you?” she asked, turning back to put the trash in the bin. 

“I’m fine.” Barakah said, the excited frequency of her voice diminishing. 
Kauthar noticed the confused look on her daughter’s face. They both watched Rose clamp the bin shut and strolled back into her house, without any further word of greeting or even, to acknowledge Kauthar.