Puranay Rastay ✓

chapter ‣ 20

Chapter ‣ 20

I stood on the pavement, still as a statue. The cold was digging into my bones, my thin sweater and cotton shalwar kameez no match for the moistening snow. My arms were pinned to my side, not rising no matter how much I tried, no matter how much I wanted to hug myself for warmth. Flashing lights of red and blue blinded my sight, filling the horizon from all sides. The little gaps between the light were filled with a dark and pungent smoke.

My cheeks were suddenly wet, my tears freezing as soon as they escaped.

"Why?" My throat was screaming. "Why? Why? Why?"

I could hear my own voice, but I couldn't stop myself. My tongue moved on its own, my teeth fighting to bite down to stop myself.

A warm hand fell on my shoulder, piercing through the trance that had made me immobile. I turned and saw a face that made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach.

"Assalamu Allykum," he said, grinning with his teeth. "My name's Aqib."

"Auzubillah!" I exclaimed, erupting from my sleep.

"Khaled?" Rida called out, rousing up. Her voice was thick with sleep. She reached for the table lamp to flood the room with light."Are you okay?"

Her sleep dust encrusted eyes and wild hair grounded me to where we were.

Aqib's passing. Rida's return. Our nikah.

I took a deep breath, exhaling out the anxiety.

"Are you okay?" She asked again, gently touching my arm.

I nodded slowly, waiting for my heart to calm down.

"I'm fine," I finally said, more to myself than her.

"Okay, sleep then." She turned over and instantly fell asleep. But my slumber was long gone.

I lay awake in bed until sounds of the night started to echo through my head. The ticking of the clock, the hum of the A/C, the sound of Rida's breathing and the gentle creaking of the bed when she shifted.

Finally I got out of bed and went to perform tahajjud. My lips recited the verses, but my mind was distracted. It wasn't a new experience, but it hadn't happened before in my prayers. Years of secluding myself for hours at a time, my khushu in salah was something I was extremely grateful for, so it pained me when I couldn't even get through thumma latus alunna yauma-izin 'anin na'eem without seeing Aqib's smiling face in front of my eyes.

I knew dreams had no effect on one's future, that they were a reflection of one's state of mind. But that knowledge did nothing to calm my heart. It worried me that when I should have been dreaming about all the happiness that was surrounding me, I was instead dreaming about the one person I did not want to think about. What emotion was this?

I willed myself to push away my feelings and enter the dining room where my mother was warming up chapatti. We exchanged Salaam while I warmed up the chicken curry from yesterday.

"I hope you didn't make too much noise. Let her have her sleep," Mama said, placing the chapatti box in front of us.

"I didn't," I grinned. Rida could sleep through a storm. "Last night she did tell me to wake her before I leave for the academy."

Mama nodded before gesturing for me to dig into the sehri.

Four days had gone by since mine and Rida's nikah. She hadn't fasted any day since then. Although her absence at sehri made no difference in our routine—since Mama insisted on cooking anyway—I hoped she would join us soon. It was our first Ramadan as a couple, and I wished for us to reap rewards together.