F o r t y  F i v e
This one is for MuslimahForever13

:)

Allah says, "Take one step
towards Me, I will take ten steps towards you. Walk towards me,
I will run towards you."

-Sent in by @MuslimahForever13 -

☆

Mashal

I was having an extremely uncomfortable night in room 987 while Minahil by my side, was sleeping soundly except for the random coughing.

We didn't see Zeyara or Ibrahim after Minahil's demonstration of how to offend men in less than five minutes. Stupidly enough, I completely forgot Zeyara's room number and Ibrahim never mentioned his.

Zeyara's attitude, his sensitivity towards the topic of his face, his insecurity was bothering me. It was so scary, the fact that he would remain like that. From being the person who once attracted a lot of attention to becoming someone with a battered face who people are frightened to even look at, is a drastic change. He was probably even frightened to look at himself for he removed the mirror in his room.
I wish it was enough for him to hear me say that he is beautiful, but unfortunately I think he doubts me. He thinks that I say it out of pity and because he is my husband and I have to deal with it.
And it breaks my heart to know that he is kinda right. I know I would've never found him attractive if he didn't have Zeyara bin Hamid's face when I first met him.

I tried being mad at Minahil for what she said but I knew she couldn't help it, it was who she was.
Extremely straightforward, short tempered and impulsive. Which, in common terms is known as being rude and bitchy.

I even tried using Ibrahim as bait to convince her that she should control her tongue.
"Minahil if you really do want to get married to Ibrahim then you need to change your ways! He isn't like those boys you met in high school or college. He is a mature person."

"Yes exactly! I mean they didn't have a masjid in my high school." She cackled at the joke which I couldn't find and then pointed at her finger nails. "Anyways do you know where I could get a manicure?"

The conversation ended with me walking off as well.

The silence of the night in our dark bedroom was interrupted by the call of prayer at the crack of dawn. Alnihayya had a strange system of waking people up for fajr. Not only did the speakers sound the azan in the loudest volume possible, the lights also turned on automatically as the azan started. The newest thing that I discovered today was that if you still don't get up from the bed ten minutes after the azan finishes, the ceiling parts and releases water, you literally get a cold shower on your bed.

Minahil got to experience that while I laughed whole heartedly.

"I just got a shower. Why do I still need to do wudu?" She groaned as I pushed her in the bathroom for wudu.

"Because there's a difference between a shower and a ghusl!" I exclaimed.

The cavern smelled of croissants, hash browns, toasts and fried potatoes when we reached there for breakfast. The food and the aroma, both were amazing but I couldn't seem to enjoy it. Nor could Minahil, because she had her head down on the table, snoring lightly. I couldn't fathom how she could sleep in such a lot of noise.
Twisting my fork in my plate idly, I gazed around at the other tables.

I could see Saddia, Soha and their cool friends on their usual table, Zara in a green scarf, sitting alone with a novel in her left hand and a croissant in the right one. Our eyes met briefly as she looked up from her book. She smiled and waved, I smiled back. I could even spot the female senior leaders, Maryam and Aymur. Then there were some girls I recognised from Khawlah and others that I did not.
I wish I could glance at the men's side to look for Ibrahim and Zeyara but it was too far away and too crowded.

I moved my eyes back to my own table and tried eating again but I still didn't feel the urge to. I wanted to eat with Zeraya, or at least know that he ate.
I wasn't even sure if he slept.

"Assalam o alaikum. Sabah Al khair. Good morning everyone!" Someone announced from the stage, his voice ringing in the entire cavern through the numerous speakers.
Everyone stopped chatting and rotated their heads towards him. I recognised him as the senior leader Miz'an Mujuthaba.

Once he caught everyone's attention, he started speaking. It wasn't anything unisual. Every Friday he announced the name of the members who would go out to help the Palestinians and distribute the donations. Since today was Friday, he was going to announce the names again.

"It's Juma'h again Alhamdulillah." He spoke pleasantly in his thick eastern accent. "Please don't miss the Friday prayer because you know what Humna would do to anyone who does that. It's not just Allah's punishment you're going to get."
There were a few chuckles at that before he continued speaking. "If it's cold water for fajr, it's hot water for juma'h. Not gonna lie, I got to experience that last Friday. I was ten minutes late. Yes that short deadline." He laughed and the others did too. "I thought it was just going to be water but no, when I went back to my room after the salah, my bed was covered with a billion post it notes, 'I will not be late for juma'h again.' Took me five hours to take them all off. She's very creative."

I couldn't help but stifle a grin. Zeyara did a good job when he added the extra 'sass' in Humna.

"So anyways, Humna tell us the members who are going out today." He looked back at the large screen behind him.

"Sir firstly, thanks a lot for praising my creativity but today's punishment would not be post it notes, it's going to be something I call 'spiky floor and hidden shoes.' If you liked the previous one, you would definitely love this one."

Laughter and grins spread in the cavern at the thought of that punishment. I glanced at Minahil to see that she was awake now and rubbing her eyes. She wouldn't want to be late for juma'h after this heads up.

"As per the rules, you can only change If someone else is willing to take your place." Humna's voice announced. "Since we have reached the letter M for the women, it's going to be Maimuna Abbas, Mahnoor Imran"
As the names were announced they appeared on the screen for everyone to see clearly.

"Maryam Amjad, Maryam Malik, Maryam Shahid, Maryam Osman.....I'll just take Maryam as common and announce the surnames."

The crowd erupted into laughter and claps as she continued mentioning the Maryams and it appeared on the screen like a maths question.

Maryam×(Ali, Hussein, Khan, Bashir)

"According to my calculations, Muslim parents don't realise that names other than Maryam, Ali, Abdullah, Amna, Ayesha are also halal."

I chuckled, it was so true.

"And two more non Maryams, Mashal Naeem and Minahil Nadeem."

"What?! Why??" Minahil whined, throwing her head back on the table.

"From the men it's going to be Ibadullah, Ibrahim Naeem, Ibrahim Hakim, Idris Ahmed, Jamaal Abdi, Jaabir Ali, Jaffer Irfan, Junaid Ali, Junaid--"

"Ughh! I was just starting to get happier that maybe I could find somewhere to get my nails done outside but now the mosque is going with us." Minahil rolled her eyes and frowned. "He is going to give me an extra long fatwa on how having long nails is haram."

"You still have time to decide against that impulsive marriage idea." I shrugged.
I really wanted Minahil to think about it and not end up ruining her and Ibrahim's life.

"No I guess I can handle it." She smirked.

Humna was done announcing the names and Miz'an had started speaking again. "So as always, you twenty four people are going to be in groups of four. Preferably groups of the same gender unless you are mahrams. All eight groups will be spread out and not concentrated at one area. You leave after juma'h and return at maghrib time. Asr will be prayed with the civilians. Do your best. BarakAllahu feekum."

"Can't Zeyara go as well?" I complained. "It would be so much more fun with him."

Minahil burst out laughing at my words. "Fun as in you would pretend he is a ghost and scare the children?"

"Minahil there's this hadith." I sighed, "Speak a good word or REMAIN SILENT!"

"Okay okay chill. Don't scream."

I had not replied to her yet when we heard someone fake coughing to get our attention. We both turned simultaneously to look at Saddia standing near our table.

"Assalam o alaikum." She greeted us, wearing her usual attire of confidence.

"Walaikum Salam." We replied together.

"There isn't much communication allowed here with families but everyone gets turns. It comes after months but fortunately, according to the surname alphabetic order, it's your turn Minahil. So would you like to call your family?" She asked, getting straight to the point.

It took a minute for that to sink in and once Minahil understood it, her smile grew. "Yes! Finally. My patents would be worried sick. I want to call them."

"Okay, please follow me then. You might not be able to talk to them today but we can try."

Minahil nodded and glanced at me, smiling before she walked off behind Saddia. Both of them with their heels ticking on the rocky floor, leaving me alone.

Soon the crowd started dispersing, everyone had finished their breakfast and now they were moving over to their respective sectors. The fighters going to halba for training, the technicians and weapon designers to their floor, the pilots and drivers to the airport, the ones who did the cooking and all sort of cleaning to theirs. Basically everyone had something or the other to do. Even Minahil had to do something so she was learning to be a fighter pilot.

Then there was me.

I forced myself to finish the food on my plate to not let it go waste. By the time I was done there weren't many people left. Only the cleaners with their special cleaner robots, metallic silver and red discs which looked a lot like frisbees. They hovered in mid air, flying over from one table to the other. Their bottom opened like a sliding door and mechanical hands sweeped away the dirty plates and trays. I watched in fascination as they cleaned the plates with a jet of water and hydraulic pressure, leaving them shiny white.

One hovered over to my table and did the job right in front of my eyes, cleaned the plate I had just eaten in.

This whole Alnihayya thing would've seemed like a joke to me six months back, but now it seems so normal that living without it would seem abnormal.

I was in a cart, going back to my room feeling utterly useless, when Humna chimed in. "Miss I have just received orders to take you to halba."

"By whom?" I asked, even though I think I already knew the answer.

"MZS. He said you would ask which MZS so I have to tell you that it's your husband."

"Okay." I sighed. I wanted to see Zeyara desperately, but not in halba where he would force me to punch and kick and run. I would rather see him in a beautiful garden full of roses with tiny bulbul birds and a golden sun.
I smiled at my own thoughts.
Wait for jannah Mashal.

Humna stopped the cart in front of the same room on halba where Zeyara had previously forced me to do twenty billion pushups.

This time I mentally prepared myself not to believe him even if he uses salah as an excuse to make me run.

I opened the door and walked in.

Zeyara had covered his face with a black balaclava mask, the type you see robbers wearing in movies. His hands were splayed on the grey floor, on his back was a heavy pack which seemed more than 20 kilograms. He did the pushups to a relentless beat even though I could see the sweat trickling down his neck and bare arms visible from his vest.

He did two more pushups before removing the load from his back and walking up to me.
"Assalam o alaikum." I greeted him hesitantly as I took off my veil.

"Walaikum Salam." He replied. "Ignore my face, twenty pushups and then I'll teach you how to punch."

His voice didn't carry any cheerfulness or humor, it was so sad that I could hear my heart break.
"Zeyara I'm sor--"

"No conversations here." He raised his hand up to interrupt me. "Here in this room I'm your teacher, don't treat me like a husband."

His tone wasn't harsh, it was polite but carried an air of finality. He turned around and I knew I had to obey him.

I quietly positioned on the floor and started doing the pushups. I don't know why but they seemed so easy today. Zeyara didn't count them for me like last time. I did all twenty and then sat up, the happiness of victory radiating out of me.

"You haven't even done one yet." He stated when I looked at him for acknowledgement.

"But I did the--"

"Keep your arms straight, legs straight, no arch on the back and then do them. If I don't count, it doesn't count."

So that is why they seemed so easy. I didn't have my arms and legs stretched out. I frowned but nonetheless started doing them again.
It took me half an hour and five breaks in between to finally do them.

Then Zeyara asked me to punch the bag and I didn't even protest, he wasn't going to listen anyways.

He didn't look pleased at all with my punches. "Watch carefully." He said "and try positioning yourself like this next time."

I literally opened my eyes wider to observe him. He had his legs parted, one in front of the other, his whole upper body moved as he landed a punch and he really made the punch bag beg for mercy.

"Now try again." He stopped and crossed his arms in front of him, eyes fixed on me.

I gulped, his eyes made me feel more insecure. I felt ashamed of being so weak in front of Zeyara. The thought that he hated me for being this useless clouded my mind. I couldn't get rid of it, especially when I had seen girls do so much better than me in Khawlah.

I tried mimicking his stance, parted my legs a little, placed my fists where he had his, tried to move myself exactly how he had done it and then landed the first punch. The impact made me back off a little but I pretended that I didn't feel anything. Zeyara's eyes were on me, I had to do good.

Quickly I retreated my fist and landed another punch and then another and then another.

I kept on hitting the bag till Zeyara grabbed my arm and stopped me.
"You're hurting yourself, not the bag." He said gently. "I already know what you are capable of. Stop trying to prove it. Like I said earlier, think of me as no one but a teacher. Okay?"

I nodded positively, unable to meet his eyes.

"Good. Once again now. Keep your balance-" He took the fighting position, demonstrating everything that he was saying, "Right fist back and left outstretched. Keep on hopping on your feet as if you are skipping, it helps to provide more momentum so don't stop moving, once you hit with the left hand, pull it back quickly and land the right one, then a three second break. Then repeat. Break. Repeat."

I watched him do it and when it was my turn, I did the same. This time Zeyara clapped for me and the bag actually moved with the force. "Congratulations! You've learned how to punch effectively."
He made me practice that for another thirty minutes.

When I thought I was done, Zeyara suddenly fell to the floor, hands on his neck, gasping for breath. I had no idea what had happened.

"Zeyara! What's wrong?!" I asked in my panic stricken voice. My heart was already pounding in fear.

"W- wa- ter." He managed to mumble.

"I- I'll go get it!" I rushed towards the water dispenser but the water was all finished.

It was as if my limbs were moving on their own, adrenaline rushed through my system as I ran over to Khawlah where I had seen a water dispenser before but when I reached it, Khawlah was locked.

People walking in the coridoor stared at me as I ran towards the elevator in full flight. The only place I knew I could find drinking water now, was the cavern.

Fear and Zeyara's breathless state muzzled my brain. I didn't even stop to think of any other solution. All I could think of was that he needed water.

I ran over to the cavern, filled a glass of water and then took the elevator, rushed back to halba and again ran to the room Zeyara was in.

"Zeyara water!" I exclaimed as soon as I went in.

"Seven minutes. I'm impressed." He laughed, throwing his head back. He wasn't on the floor, he wasn't having any breathing problems, he was standing right in front of me, perfectly fine.

Zeyara had successfully managed to fool me to run once again.

"Ughh! You cheater." I cried in anguish.

"Not cheater zawjati, it's teacher." He laughed.

I threw the water in my hands at him but he just shrugged. "I was going to take a shower anyways."

"I really do hate you. You're so mean!" I threw the glass on the floor and turned around to walk away from the room.

"Okay then you don't want me to go out with you today? That's sad."

"You will go?" My face brightened instantly and I faced him again.

"One of the men agreed to change his turn with me."

"Yesssssss! It's going to be so much fun." I squealed in excitement while Zeyara shook his head in disbelief.

"You're so overdramatic but I don't know why I find that cute." He said to me as we walked towards the elevator.

"I'm not overdramatic! It's you who is under dramatic!!" I frowned. "Like you even burnt your face and acted all cool as if no big deal. I'm sure if I had burnt mine, I would've kept on crying my whole life."

"For your information zawjati, that's being patient not being under dramatic."

"That's all you can say? Cute and zawjati? Do you have no other romantic words?" I twitched my nose and folded my arms.

"Romantic words? You want me to call you ketchup? Because honestly ketchup is love."

I sighed deeply. "Never mind."

Zeyara stifled a grin. "I could call you honey but honey is sweet and you! You're like a deadly bitter wife."

My frustration and frown, both grew wider and I started walking away from him.
He kept following me, enjoying my anger.

Once we reached the basement, I turned around to face him. "Stop following me now. I'm going to my room!"

"Yeah sure. You're going to your room. I live there too."

"Zeyara it's not funny anymore stop it! Leave me alone." I bellowed at him before sitting in a cart.

"To your room miss?" Humna asked.

I replied with a yes and then the cart started moving. I thought Zeyara would definitely try to stop me or get in the cart with me but he didn't. it was strange but when the cart stopped in front of Zeyara's room, I understood why.

"Humna this isn't my room!"

"Thanks Humna." I heard Zeyara say as he stepped off the cart he was on. He had been following me the whole time.

"Come on now Mashal. The whole world agrees that this is your room." He laughed as I got off the cart.

"I really do hate you."

"I know." He chuckled as he unlocked the door and we walked in.

Zeyara threw himself on the bed sideways, even without taking off his shoes.
"We still have an hour before juma'h. Let's sleep." He said in a groggy voice as his mouth was covered by a pillow.

"Firstly, take off your shoes, secondly it's not a good idea to sleep before juma'h with all the sass you put in Humna and thirdly young man, what makes you think I will sleep with your stinky, sweaty, self?" I scoffed.

He rose his head from the pillow and pointed at the ceiling. "Mashal check that out!"

"What?" I questioned, diverting my eyes to where he had pointed.

Before I knew it, Zeyara pulled my leg, making me fall on the bed next to him, face first. He wrapped his arm around me and breathed into my ear. "Firstly, secondly and thirdly, you are my wife. No other explanations needed."

"Zeyaraa!" I squirmed under the weight of his arm, trying to get out of his hold. "You're such a cheater!"

He closed his eyes, pulled me even closer in his warm embrace and mumbled. "Just sleep ketchup. I know you love me."

□■□■□■□■□■□

"It's all your fault! I told you it was a wrong idea to sleep at that time." I glared daggers at Zeyara.

We had both overslept and when we finally did wake up, we had to run to take a bath because it was juma'h. By the time we were ready to go, we had passed the ten minute deadline and Humna congratulated us with hot water. Rationally, we had to change our wet clothes once again before going to the masjid. Unfortunately we missed most of the khutbah but otherwise we were still in time.
We thought that was it, but when we had to go back to the room after juma'h, both of us couldn't find our shoes. Someone had taken them away from the shelf.
We thought it was a coincidence until we finally reached our room and realised it was that 'spiky floor, no shoe punishment' because the floor of Zeyara's room was covered with sharp spiky needles. Not noticing them we had stepped inside, only to scream and run back out.

"What kind of punishment is that? Stupid Humna." Zeyara said with gritted teeth as he rubbed the sole of his feet.

"That's also your fault! Why did you have to add that 'sass' in her?"

"I need to go to the bathroom Mashal!" He exclaimed suddenly.

"Why?"

"To make pancakes because that's what you do in a bathroom. Obviously to pee!"

I laughed at his state, "You decide Zeyara. A wet trouser or bleeding feet? Entirely up to you."

"Shutt up!! You don't even know how severe it is." He hopped on his feet, trying to muffle out the urge. "Take me to your room!"

"My room? Weren't you saying earlier that your room is my room?" I raised my eyebrows and mocked.

"I take my words back! Pleeaseee." He pleaded, still hopping.

I tried controlling my laughter but couldn't. I laughed all the way to the room I shared with Minahil.
I typed in the password and Zeyara rushed inside and towards the bathroom, faster than a thunder bolt.

"What the flipping horror?!" Minahil shrieked, hand over her heart. She was sitting on the bed casually when me and Zeyara burst in.

"Sorry! We just need the bathroom." I tried to explain.

"You are most welcome to even take the room but I mean astagfirullah you could've told me earlier Mashal. I don't want to see that happening!"

"No! It's not what you think!!"
I was turning red in shame and embarrassment.

Minahil gazed down at my bare feet. "Whoa! Thank God you both have just taken off the shoes and not anything else. I really wouldn't want to see that."

"Minahil it really is not what you think! Zeyara needed to go to the bathroom but we were late for juma'h so his room is full of spikes. He can't go in there."

"Late for juma'h and you? Phhssst nonsense."

"I- " I was just about to answer when Zeyara came out of the bathroom and declared, "Not only juma'h, we're going to be super late for the donation trip to Palestine if we don't start running now!"

"I totally forgot that!" Me and Minahil screamed at the same time.

"Uh- sister I would forgive you for offending me yesterday if you could provide us with decent shoes." Zeyara said sheepishly.

"Ohhh." Minahil gasped, "Well..... I went with Saddia to buy shoes yesterday but I just have pink glittery sneakers, a pair of red heels and a pair of black ones. I'm wearing the black ones so.....You two can decide."

"Pink glittery sneakers? Red heels? Seriously? Mashal why does this world keep on doubting my masculinity?"

I laughed whole heartedly and replied. "That's what you get for being late for juma'h."

In the end I took the red heels and Zeyara wore the pink glittery sneakers. If he wasn't already a sight with a black balaclava mask on his face, the pink sneakers definitely made him a sight.

When we finally reached the airport, dogding the laughter of people at me wearing red heels under a niqab and Zeyara wearing pink glittery sneakers, Ibrahim was standing there waiting impatiently. The other groups had already flown away in their planes out of the mountain to Palestine.

"Where were y--- akhi what an excellent shoe choice!" Ibrahim complemented as soon as his eyes fell on Zeyara's feet.

"Don't remind me." Zeyara grumbled.

"Get in the plane now both of you, we're already late." Ibrahim said, addressing only me and Zeyara. He didn't even look at Minahil.

Minahil noticed that well enough and she was offended to say the least. "Fine go on ignoring me, I'll just go away." She snapped.

"Mashal tell her I have nothing to do with her." Ibrahim said.

Minahil was infuriated by this. "I wasn't able to contact my parents today but I was ready to tell them about you! You can't do this."

Ibrahim turned around towards the plane and without replying he stepped inside. Zeyara followed him quietly, leaving me alone with Minahil.

"I warned you." I whispered, patting her shoulder before walking in the plane.

We waited for Minahil to board the plane as well but instead, she turned around and walked away.
We had to go without her.

☆

Luckily my biology teacher was absent so I got off early. Hence more time. Hence this chapter. 😊

And I have a dua request for my grandpa. He's in the hospital please pray for him.

JazakAllah khair.
-Muskaan.