At times in life...

Farhana boarded the aircraft and found her way to her seat. The immigration process had been smooth and she was glad she didn’t have to wait for so long. Soon the plane would take off and they hope to be in Frankfurt in another ten hours. After she settled down on her seat, she quickly gave a last call before they would be asked to switch off their cell phones. “Mama! Take care mama and bring me lot’s of chocolates!” her youngest squealed over the phone. Farhana laughed. “Sure darling. I will get you lot’s of chocolates” she talked to her husband and explained for the tenth time the number of items in the freezer. “I know darling. You take care of yourself. All the best and come back soon! Allah hafiz.” “Allah Hafiz” Farhana replied back and smiled. Ahmed had always been the silent strong figure whom she could lean on to. If she was the general manager of her company, it was all due to him. He had supported her and guided her throughout her career. Ahmed was a major distributor for a textile company and in spite of being so busy; he had always managed both his and his wife’s career along with their family life.

Farhana glanced at the watch. They would be stopping over at London for an hour. She couldn’t wait to get to Frankfurt. Traveling had never a liking... especially air travel. She closed her eyes as the plane took off and said her prayers. There was something about landings and take offs that scared her to death.

When they landed at London, some passengers disembarked the aircraft. After them the passengers towards Frankfurt boarded. Farhana was busy reading her project report file and did not realize her co passenger had come and sat beside her. A few minutes later she glanced up and caught her breath. Why! It was none other than Saleem. “Assalam Alaykum” he greeted her. “Walaykum salam” she replied back. Both of them seemed to be at a loss of speech. They smiled hesitantly and could hardly make eye contact.

“How have you been?” Saleem asked. “Alhamdullilah, good” Farhana replied. “You disappeared after college” he remarked. “Not really” Farhana countered back. “I went back home”. “Of course, home was never London for you” Saleem remarked. “The place hardly mattered. Home is where you feel loved. It’s the people rather than the place that makes all the difference” Farhana expounded. Saleem smiled. “I see you’ve not lost your cheesiness even now” “Nope. Not now, not ever” Farhana affirmed.

They were silent. What more could one say to a stranger who had twenty years before been a very good friend. A friend you had loved… and lost.

Saleem and Farhana had met at the London School of Economics. Farhana was from Capetown and she had looked forward to do her Masters in such a prestigious business school. Saleem on the other hand was a Londoner. He already had his financially firm running when he enrolled in the program. Saleem had noticed Farhana the first day itself when she walked in properly dressed as a Muslim woman. He could not help but admire that being a lady, she was not only smart but she also maintained her Islamic dress code.

Over the year, they had become good friends and soon best friends. Everyone had thought that they would one day get married. Farhana however, had a traumatic past. A past she was trying to forget. A past of a broken marriage, of a dream shattered and a fear that gripped her constantly. She had come to London not only to get her education but also to get away from the life she had left behind. She never told anyone anything. Nor did people know about her. She did however mention the fact to Saleem and he had been disturbed a great deal. He had reacted as though it was her fault that her marriage had broken and he thought it was proper that she should only get married again as soon as possible.

Farhana had been disappointed. She had not expected such insensitivity. Not from Saleem at least but then, weren’t men always men? Would they ever understand a woman’s heart? What she feels, what she hides and what she shows? No, they never would.

It had been on their graduation when destiny took an unplanned route. Farhana and Saleem had been soul mates. Despite their altercations, they respected one another mainly for the good muslim each of two were. It had been rare to find a good muslim friend in London in such a situation. After the ceremony, Saleem asked Farhana what her plans were. Would she take up the offer she had received in London?

Farhana glanced up. ‘Only if you ask me to stay’ she thought to herself. She didn’t really know what her feelings were. She knew she respected Saleem and she had grown to trust him. He had treated her respectfully which had been so contrasting from where she had been. “I don’t know” she said cautiously. “What do you think I should do?” she had asked him. “I think you should get married.” ‘Oh there he goes again’ Farhana had thought to herself. ‘Let me tease him’ “Sure I would love to but you haven’t really asked me yet” she told him with a mischievous smile. “Really? Well why would you want to marry me?” he had asked seriously. Farhana had not realized that what had started as a joke had turned to something serious. “Well...” she stammered. Then deciding to be honest with herself, she took the bold step and had told him “because I feel safe when I’m with you”. Safe. Yes, that was truly what she felt. She felt at peace, she enjoyed his companionship and there was a commadery between them that had been so rare to find. She felt safe- she knew that with him, she would not have to go through the pain she had been through.

“I think you want to marry just because you want to feel safe and protected.” He had replied.

Farhana looked at him confused. She hadn’t meant only that. It was just a feeling she felt… among the other feelings. He was looking at her intensely and then casually remarked, “You know if you would have told me you wanted to marry me because you loved me, I would have married you”.

Farhana had stood still. He was waiting. Waiting for her to say something. “Well then it’s really sad that one has to say the words “I love you” explicitly for the other person to know that they love you.”

With that she had gotten up and walked away. He had not come after her and she had sat the whole night in her room. She didn’t understand what the feelings she was feeling were. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it regret? Regret? Regret of what? Of loving a friend for the sake of Allah only to be told that she didn’t love him?

She had caught the last flight to Johannesburg that night. That had been the last time she had seen him. When she reached home, she met Ahmed through a family friend who was over zealous in getting them together and whose life’s mission was to get them married. They had married. They were now married for eighteen years and had three wonderful children. She had worked her way up the company’s ladder and life had been good for her. Faith however, has its own fancies and whims. Today, twenty years later, she now had to face the man whose few words had questioned her very essence.

“So what do you do now?” Farhana asked Saleem. “I run my own firm.” He replied. “How about your family. Your wife and kids?” she asked him. He must have married immediately after graduation. She was sure about that. He had after all been a strong vocalist on the importance of marriage. “I’m not married” he replied. Farhana was shocked. Surely that could not be possible. “How come? Surely you were ever so verbal on how wonderful marriage is” she asked him surprised.

Saleem was silent. A few moments later he told her so silently that her flesh stood out.
“A few months down the lane, I realized that I had failed to understand the one person I truly cared for. I failed to understand her feelings and I had lost her. After her, I never did find someone whom I could understand or who could understand me. I couldn’t find someone whom I could trust and who could trust me. I guess I never did find someone with whom I could feel … safe.”

Farhana felt her heart beat faster. She looked away and tried to blink back her tears. Needless to say she knew who was his friend and a surge of emotion choked her to know that he had at last understood her albeit, too late: very late.

They sat in silence not knowing what more to say and when they reached their destination, they parted in silence.

A lost love...

I finished my prayers and got ready. I was going to meet an old college friend after four years. I must admit that I have been rather poor in maintaining communication with my friends and family. Therefore, I made a resolution I’d set aside time no matter how busy I was.

Abbas: What can I say about him? I had met him outside the library while waiting to use the computer. I saw a fair guy wearing spectacles and said “Hi! I am Maimuna,” “Hello, I’m Abbas” he replied. “Oh you’re a Muslim?” I had asked excitedly, “Yes” he replied. That had been the beginning of our friendship or acquaintance one could say. Many times we would meet outside the library. He was doing Science while I studied Architecture. He helped me out with how to use the computer and gave me lots of tips on emails and chat messengers. In our graduation too, we were together and were we so happy to graduate!

During a college function he had introduced me to Ilham, his school friend. She was the sweetest girl I had met and they both intended to get married after Abbas graduated and got himself a job. I thought they were made for each other and I was very happy for them. However, deep inside I had a premonition that it might be tough to convince their parents. You see Abbas was a Shia while Ilham a Sunni.

We lost touch after graduation. Occasional when we’d come online, we’d catch up on our master’s studies or work. Two years back Abbas gave me the sad news that both his and Ilham’s parents had refused their match and her dad had married her off. I felt very sad for him. He was a wonderful person and MashaAllah a good Muslim. I knew it must have been the sectarian division that would have caused this fate. It had been long since we had met although we stayed in the same city. Well as you all know, a city could be a continent for all we cared. So today I had decided, I would go and meet my friend.

We met at a coffee shop just like good old college days. Abbas had not changed at all. He did seem tired. He works twelve hours a day talking to various clients. I did notice that he was now more confident and talkative than when he was in college. “Meeting various people gives you that confidence” he told me. We caught up on all the good old college days, laughed on the funny way the professors would call out our names and what our friends were doing now.

I wanted to ask him about Ilham but I didn’t want to bring the old memories back. However, I guess he wanted to share it with me and he told me the whole story.

“I didn’t really tell you how I met Ilham. We were together in pre-university. I was just sixteen at that time. The first day I went to class, I sat by myself as I didn’t know anyone. She came a few days later. When she entered the room I couldn’t help but think she was beautiful. During our first year, we became friends and soon I liked her even more. She was kind and gentle and I could talk to her about anything and everything. I knew she was my soul mate.

One day I got the courage and told her I liked her a lot. I couldn’t tell her personally so I wrote her a letter. I asked her to be honest with me and tell me what she felt. Whatever was her decision I would accept it and our friendship would always remain. For the next few days she avoided me. I couldn’t bear that. I didn’t understand why. I asked her if she had read my letter. She said she hadn’t but I knew. I knew she had read it because I saw she was nervous.

Our college principal was eccentric. He did not like the girls and boys talking to each other and in case he caught any boy or girl conversing, he would shake with anger, get their parents to school and proclaim that they had committed the most horrible crime: “I caught your children talking to each other!!!” Oh my God, he was one crazy principal. I didn’t want to risk talking outside class incase he became the supreme justice and called our parents. So one day I followed her as she walked home. In the mid way I caught up with her and asked her frankly. “I know you read my letter. Please give me an answer. I don’t care whether it’s a yes or a no, but I need to know” Ilham had hesitated for sometime but then she finally said yes to me.

That day was probably the happiest day of my life. We continued to be best of friends and I knew that one day I was going to marry her. We graduated pre-university and she joined a girl’s college for her Arts while I went into Science. We kept in touch over the phone. She got a cell phone from her friend and her parents never knew about it for two years. Whenever she wanted to talk to me, she would give me a ring and I would call her back. We carried this on for three years.

After graduation, we got engaged. As you know we both had not yet told our parents. I was scared that they would refuse me because of the shia-sunni difference. She started getting lots of proposals which she rejected but one day she called me and told me that it was serious this time and that I had to talk to her parents.

I decided it was time. We had been waiting for the time I would finish my studies, have a job and go to her parents to ask for her hand. I left my masters midway and got a job. I then talked to my parents that I liked a girl; I knew her for the past six years and wanted to marry her. When they found out that she was a Sunni Muslim, they refused totally. I told them that it did not matter to me and that we both were Muslims and that is all I cared. They refused. They said what will the relatives think? What all the people will talk and so on.

That night I called Ilham and told her what happened. She started crying. She said she couldn’t see herself without me and I told her the same. We were both lost. We didn’t know what to do. I thought I would talk to her father and get his approval. Ilham gave me his number and I called him. I told him who I was and that I wanted to meet him for ten minutes. He asked Ilham what this was about and she told him who I was, How had we met in school and our intention to get married. His father had fumed when he heard I was a Shia. He said he would never give her hand to me and refused to meet me.

Ilham had begged, pleaded and even threatened to kill herself. That had no effect on him. He locked her in her room and made sure she did not leave the house. That evening out of frustration, she took sleeping pills with Pepsi. Her sister knocked at the door but she did not open. When she peeped through the window she saw Ilham lying on the bed as though she was dead. She got so nervous and she called me up. “Abbas, I don’t know what she has done. Her room is locked. I am so scared.” She was crying. I calmed her down while my own heart was racing. I told her to wake Ilham and get her to open the door. She did that and got Ilham to talk to me over the phone.

“What did you do?!” I asked her anxiously. “I took some sleeping pills”. My world had stilled. What if something would have happened to her? I could not bear the thought of loosing her. I talked to her at length and told her we had to be strong. Taking sleeping pills would not help. We had to convince our parents and look forward to our future. She promised me she won’t do it again.

We were running out of time. Her father was adamant to get her married elsewhere. She got her brother-in-law on her side and asked him to help us. Her brother-in-law was influential in the family. He called me once and asked me about my intentions. I told him that I wanted to marry Ilham and my intentions were pure. He tried to convince me otherwise that it was just a crush and I was a flirt and was trying to delude his sister. I told him that I was not that kind of a man and when I committed, I committed. He seemed convinced about me and actually promised that he would help us out.

However, at night when I called Ilham, she told me he had changed his face. He told Ilham’s dad that I was a no-good person and I wasn’t serious about marrying his daughter. He suggested another man for Ilham. When I heard that, my blood boiled. How dare him! How dare he do that to us after he promised he would help us!

We thought we had a helper but he turned out to be a villain. Ilham’s marriage was fixed to Javed, a salesman. He was two years younger to her. When he met Ilham, she told him indirectly that she was not interested and even implied that she was not of good character. I know it sounds illogical. In such situation logic does not work. Javed did not care. Ilham as you know has a beautiful heart which anyone could see. He agreed to marry her.”

“Why didn’t Ilham tell him about you and her? That would have deterred him.” I told Abbas

“We weren’t thinking right. She said the first thing that came to her mind and I was desperate. I didn’t want to loose my Ilham. I asked a friend for help and we dug up his work address and how he looked like. I went with my friend to his work place to seek for a person with his description. He was short and he had curly hair. When I didn’t find one, I asked one of the salesmen, “Where is Javed?” “He has left the job sir” Again I had met with a road block. I took Javed’s number from the salesman and went to a telephone booth to call him.

I told him I was his well wisher and that Ilham was not a good match for him. He asked me who I was and where I was calling from. I refused to give my details. He said “Alright fine” and put down the phone. That evening he reported this incident to Ilham’s father. Her father got the address of the telephone booth from the telephone company and went to investigate who had called at such and such a time. However, the address registered was wrong and anyways he would have known it was me.”

“Abbas, when you both had the strong intention to marry and if her father was refusing why you didn’t just get married to her?” I asked. I didn’t know why Abbas and Ilham were going through so much unnecessarily.

“We would have, but you know in Islam, the nikah of a girl is not valid without her wali, her guardian who is her father” he replied

“Yes I do know that my friend but surely you would also be knowing that if the wali refuses to marry his ward for no legitimate reason, the guardianship goes to the next male relative until finally the Kazi, imam i.e. the judge and he can act as the guardian and marry the girl” I told him.

“What!” Abbas looked at me in shock. “Is that possible?” he asked holding his forehead.

“Yes, of course. I thought you knew this. There are so many cases where the men due to their pride and false honor or beliefs refuse to marry their wards: daughters and those under their guard ship. These women have the right to go to the Judge and he would act as the guardian and get her married” I explained.

“Oh my God! We did not know this. All the while we were thinking our nikah would not have been valid without her father’s permission” Abbas was crestfallen. He realized that he lost the one girl in his life through a matter of ignorance.

I tried to console him. “It’s kismet Abbas. It was written from before. Otherwise during all this time you could have told me what was happening and I could have let you know but her faith was written before she met you”

“Yes” Abbas agreed. Still in shock. “Well to conclude our story, her wedding approached. We had failed. We couldn’t convince our parents. The night before her wedding we talked over the phone the whole night. Yet it felt as it if were just minutes. We remembered all the great years of our friendship. Finally I could hear the Fajr Adhan at her end. “Goodbye Ilham. Take care of yourself. Be a good wife and keep your husband happy” We both cried. This was it. This was our final goodbye.

My heart ached listening to Abbas. I could see his emotions clearly on his face. Which man could love a woman like this? I knew many of my friends who cried because their men were not strong enough to hold on to a relationship and here, my friend was crying because he lost the girl he had loved for six years. I felt like kicking myself. Why had I not been there for him? Why had I not told him about the guardianship? Why? For that I had no reply. Kismet was all I could think of.

“How is she?” I asked him gently. “I don’t know. After her marriage, we never contacted. I understood that she was now someone else’s. Last I heard from a few friends that she gave birth to a baby girl. All I can do is pray for her that she remains happy and her husband treats her well” he said.

“Yes, that is all we can do now. InshaAllah may be in this world she was meant to be for her husband and who knows, in the next world, you two will find each other… for eternity” I prayed.

“Yes, InshaAllah. That is all I can pray for too” he replied. “In the meantime I will move on, I hope to marry a pious lady and fulfill my duties”

“Yes, do that” I agreed with him. I wanted to see him happy. I hated to see him lonely and heartbroken. It had been two years and his pain might have reduced, but it was still there and so was the love. “I will pray you get a wonderful girl” I smiled at him. He smiled back yet his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Hidden deep within, I still could see his pain.

We finished our coffee in silence. There was nothing more we could say…

The Meeting

I sat there scared. After three years, my family had put their foot down and told me I was to look into proposals. There was no running away from it. “We don’t want to see you lonely. We want to see you by your husband and your children, knowing you are cared for, loved for”, my mother had pleaded with me.

That is how I was here. The meeting was arranged at the White Sands beach hotel. I sat there on the beach bench, facing the beautiful Indian Ocean. The breeze blew on my face gently assuring me that it would be alright. I looked down at my hands: they were shaking, my face was flushed and I tried to calm down my breathing. Past memories flashed before my eyes…

I had been eighteen. Naïve, Innocent, Carefree. A young beauty adored by my family and friends. I had gone to my friends wedding in Nairobi, what all fun we had. Late nights, movies, driving away early in the morning to catch the sunrise, the national park. Oh yes, I remembered Sarah’s wedding very well. It was where I met him.

He was the most handsome man I had seen. Tall and strong. Kind of a leader. My heart had skipped a beat when our eyes met. He stood there by the groom looking at me as I and other bridesmaids brought Sarah in. I tried to avoid looking at him. I knew I was already tomato red from blushing and if my friends got any inkling, I was dead. They would tease me miserably.

Disaster struck then. We had forgotten the bridal dupatta at home. Sarah was to wear that when she would be sent off. We girls panicked and didn’t know what to do. I volunteered to go and get it fast. It was just a fifteen minute drive. I silently got up and walked towards the door of the hall. In the parking lot, I couldn’t find the driver. “Oh no!” I was close to tears.

“Can I help you?” I turned back. Her heart stopped. It was him. “Err..Hmm..I…actually...” He smiled. As though he knew what I was going through. He most probably thought I was a school girl having one of my crushes. I got mad at myself. I never have a crush!! The men or rather the boys fell for me, but not me. No not me. “I need a drive home” I said confidently trying to calm my racing heart. “Come along then, I will drive you” and he lead me to his car. I was still nervous but he didn’t say a word. We reached home and I rushed upstairs, got the bag we had forgotten and ran down.

I was out of breath by the time I sat in the car. He looked at me. Rather stared. “What?” I asked him. “You have some kind of magic” he said looking at me in the eye. I sat there for a moment lost in the emotions I was feeling. “I mean the way you ran and came; I think you have hidden wings”, he grinned with mischief. Snap! Oh gosh he was pulling my leg. And there for a moment I thought…

We reached the hall and separated. The wedding concluded smoothly and Sarah was bid adieu. Tomorrow, Arwa and I would return home and I would never see him again.

I came home changed. I didn’t know what had happened. I saw his face everywhere. The way he looked at me, his smile! Yes, he had a wonderful smile. Days passed but his thought didn’t leave me.

One day, I had just come from my computer class when the phone rang. “Hello?” I said trying to reach for a cookie on the table. “Hi.” I froze. I would recognize his voice anywhere. “Its me. Do you remember?” I didn’t want him to know I remembered! “Who?” I asked innocently. “The one who thinks you have magic” and that silenced me. I felt so happy and I did a little jig of joy “Oh hey, how did you get my number?” “From Sarah” he replied. There was a pause and then to my astonishment he said something that I would never forget. “Will you marry me?” “What?!!” I was sure to have a heart attack; I could hear my heart beats in my head. “Will you marry me?” “Err...Uhh...Hmmm” He laughed. “I will be coming with my parents this weekend to your place. My father will call up tonight so do tell your father too.” “Okay” Okay? Okay?! He was asking me to marry him and I was saying Okay! This was way beyond my fantasies. They called it love at first sight in books.

They came, the wedding was fixed, the marriage took place and that’s when the trouble began. The young girl was transformed suddenly into a wife. I had to take care of his family, him, his needs. If his mother got displeased, he would threaten to divorce me. One day I had forgotten to put salt in his food, he threw the plate on my face. I touched my forehead. The mark was still there. It had just been the first year of our marriage. What happened? What had gone wrong? Father had searched them well, what background they came from, their social standing, his character…everything had seemed impeccable. He seemed such a gentleman to me.

In all I did, he found faults. “Look at my mother, look at my sister”. Was I incompetent? I was the head girl in my school, top ranking, and the heart of my friends. My teachers had loved me. My parents thought I was an obedient child. Then where did I falter? One day he asked me if I would like to go to my parent’s home. “Yes”, I replied. Scared to show hope. “O.k., you can go tomorrow” “Tomorrow?” I asked surprised. “Yes, tomorrow.” I had a stinking feeling. Had I done something wrong? He hadn’t complained about the food. I didn’t think his mother said anything bad about me today, may be he was just happy with me so he was letting me go. I sincerely prayed so.

I went home the next day. At home, my parents welcomed me. They hugged me and I started crying. They asked me if everything was ok. I would say just fine and I was simply crying because I was happy to see them. I wouldn’t tell them my troubles. I was nineteen only but I knew parents worry about their children and I didn’t want to get them tensed.

I spent a few peaceful days with them. I was no longer the bubbly child up to pranks anymore. Often, my mother would catch me staring in space. She didn’t believe that I was happy, mothers always know. They after all knew what we wanted when we couldn’t even speak. She asked me indirectly, inquiring about this or that, but I told her all was fine. “It’s a different environment” I said cautiously. “Trying to fit in” I smiled at her. She asked me about the mark on my forehead, “Oh this” I stammered. “I fell down the stairs” She looked at me. She knew I was lying.

It happened the next day. The phone rang early in the morning while we were having breakfast. I picked it up. It was my mother-in-law. She sounded annoyed. She asked to speak to my mother and I got scared. What had I done now? Mother spoke to her nicely asking her how she was etc. and then I heard her say “How can you say that. Are you in the right frame of mind?” I asked her what was happening. She gave me the phone and I heard the words “We have decided that you don’t fit in our family. Therefore, my son is going to divorce you. We are coming this weekend to get the divorce”

My body shook with shock as the receiver fell down. I could see the world becoming dim as my father caught me before I hit the ground. When I woke up, my parents were fussing over me. Mother had got some cold water and wiping my forehead. She was crying uncontrollably. Father was talking over the phone to them. He was pleading. He asked them what grave mistake I had done that it had reached to the point of a divorce. I had never seen my father beg. He was a man of pride. He had less, but he had honor. Oh how I wished I had not lived to see this day.

He didn’t want to speak to me. When they came down, at the court I asked him “What was it that I did that made you take this decision?” He told me the last words that resound till now, “You did nothing at all for me”.

I did nothing for him? I looked back at that one year when I tried my best to do everything I could. And he says I did nothing? Nothing? What did nothing mean?

While these thoughts were going on, the divorce was proclaimed. I was a divorcee, a social stigma, a shame to my family and a charity for my father.

Here I was again, ten years later, a doctor, a pediatrician and by the grace of God, a successful one. I left home with a broken heart and poured myself in my studies. Honors, laurels, admiration, all came. Yet when I asked myself what I thought of me, “Nothing” is my answer. A strong breeze gets me to my present. Who was I cheating? Even if I looked into proposals, I would never have the courage to say yes. Once bitten, twice shy. I was happy, wasn’t I? The children in the ward thought the world of me, my friends loved me, so did my whole family. What of it, if I didn’t have one kind of love.

I got up. Leaving a note expressing my regret to the prospective groom, I mentioned that I wasn’t ready for marriage and was sorry to have inconvenienced him.

The meeting was over.