🌟Dedicated goes to: Faizaaden1🌟A very constant reader. Love her comments 😊💓
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I sat in room staring at the little card Surya gave me yesterday, at the school carnival. Should I call?
I've been staring at it since I got back from school today. My eyes were starting to dilate.
My door swung open, my mom looked at me confused.
“Jaanam don't you have basketball practice today?” she asked, picking my laundry basket up.
“Oh shit, I do” I said putting the card on my table.
“What did I tell you about swearing?” she asked smacking me with one of my dirty shirts.
“Ow, I'm sorry” I smiled sweetly.
I got into my basketball clothes. Which basically consist of black tights, and my long sleeve warm up that said ‘Devils basketball’ in black, while the shirt was blood red. Oh, and ofcourse my nike pro hijab.
“What's this?” momma asked holding the card.
“Nothing” I said trying to grab it from her hand.
Mom moved her hand and eyed me. “Who's Surya Janad?” she asked again looking at the card carefully.
“A journalist” I said sitting on my bed.
“Why do you have a journalist's card?” she asked sitting beside me.
I sighed. “Momma, she wants to do an article on me”
My mom's eyes widened like saucers.
That's when I explained everything to her. How I met her, when she told me that I could inspire young Muslim girls everywhere. I even told momma that she thought I could change stereotypes on Islam, and Muslims.
“Oh jaanam, you have to do this!” she squealed getting up from the bed.
“Really? Momma I don't think I'm the right person for this” I said.
“No, don't you dare say that. We all live this life for a reason Madina. Your bobba (dad) and I know both know your purpose on this earth is way more than just to go to school Madina”
“Bu-"
“Honey! Listen to me. Your so inspirational sweetheart. Don't you see the way people look at you when they meet you. You're different bachem (my child), you have to do this” she said holding my hands.
“This is a sign?” I asked myself.
“A sign from Allah (god) he wants to make you successful jaanam. You should accept his offer”
“Okay mom, I'll do it” I said.
“Yay! Alhamdulillah (Thank God) for everything” she said kissing my cheek.
“You're gonna tell bobba right?” I asked grabbing my gym bag.
“Of Course, he's gonna be so proud of you” she smiled. “Have a good practice”
“Thanks momma” I said kissing her hands and leaving the house.
“Bismillah (in the name of god, the most merciful)” and stepping inside my car.
YOU ARE READING
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