T w e n t y  T h r e e
This one is for our beloved Prophet
محمد صلى الله عليه وسلم

We miss and love you ya Rasulallah SAWW.
♡

A happy rabi ul awal to everyone!

:)

O the white moon rose over us
From the valley of Wada'
And we owe it to show thankfulness
Where the call is to Allah.

-The people of Madina when the Prophet SAWW migrated-

☆

Mashal

I had started thinking that Zeyara changed his mind because two days had passed but he still had not asked Ibrahim for my hand.

Everytime Ibrahim would come to my room or the kitchen where I helped the other women to prepare food, I would ask him if Zeyara talked to him about something.
He would just shake his head negatively and ask what that 'something' was.
'Nothing.....Just something.' I would reply and change the topic.

When I had completely lost hope, I decided to confront Zeyara myself.

The only whereabouts of him that I knew of was the training hall so I put on my shoes and abaya in disappointment and was about to walk out of my room to go and fix Zeyara when the door opened and Ibrahim walked in.

The first thing he said without any salam was, "You're just seventeen and you already got a proposal. I'm twenty four and I still don't-"

"Zeyara talked to you?!" I jumped in excitement, cutting off Ibrahim's complain of being twenty four and single.
I wanted to tell him that I didn't just get one proposal, I got two on the same day but I forced myself to shut up.

Otherwise, Ibrahim would have gone out with a sword and beheaded Sanan in the blink of an eye.

"Yeah.....wait you already know?" He stared at me, astonished, "Does this mean he walked straight up to you, sat down on one knee and said I love you, because if he did that- I'll break his face."

I shook my head.
My overprotective brother.
"I wish, but no. He just called me a continuous fitnah and that too, while facing my back."

"A continuous what?" Ibrahim threw his head back laughing.

Seriously Zeyara, you need to step up your game a bit.
"Well at least someone wants to get married to me." I stuck my tongue out at him. "Unlike you."

This caused Ibrahim to frown and he turned the other way to walk out of the room. "I already told Zeyara that he would get married to a Jin."

I couldn't understand what he meant at first but when I realised what he meant, I ran after him like his death angel. "You- ugh! I can't even swear."

Ibrahim ran ahead of me with his beard flying in weird directions as his laughter filled the coridoors.
He was way too fast and I knew I couldn't catch him while running in an abaya. Instead I might just trip and lose one leg before my marriage so I stopped after a while, to catch my breath.

When he turned to see that I had stopped chasing him, he stopped as well and walked back to me, panting for air.
"By the way" he said in between his breaths, "I didn't say yes to Zeyara. I just told him to come to the mosque after duhr and then I will see."

I looked at him incredulously and huffed, "What is there to see?"
All I knew was that I liked Zryara and wanted to spend my life with him. It was that simple.

He walked nearer to me as he said, "I can't just give you away blindly. I don't know if he has a house, if he has enough money. I don't even know his age. For all I know, he could be forty year old pedophile, disguised as Zeyara. Or worse-"

"Gotcha!" I flung over and grabbed his arm while he was ranting. Ibrahim had totally forgotten that he was supposed to be running away from me. My question had distracted him and now I caught him.
Sweet victory.

He rolled his eyes and swiped my hand off his arm. "You are seventeen but act like a ten year old. You are so not ready for marriage."

"You're just jealous." I teased him.

He sighed, "Whatever" and murmured in defeat, while running a hand over his beard to smooth it down after it had gone wild when he was running. "So I was saying, I'm going to ask questions to Zeyara after zuhr."

"I'm sure he'll impress you big brother." I chuckled.
The excitement was already building up inside me. I highly doubt that Zeyara would be a forty years old pedophile but I also doubt that he will be sixteen or seventeen.

One can't just be a secret agent, a really good fighter and a senior leader and be seventeen at the same time.
No matter how old he is, he is really good at hiding it.

After talking to me, Ibrahim went off to the masjid because it was almost time for duhr and I walked back to my room. A few minutes later, I heard the azan in my brother's voice and prayed duhr.

After praying I knew that Zeyara might be talking to Ibrahim right now and I felt a strange kind of nervousness and anxiety inside me. I tried to hold myself but I was dying to hear what Zeyara had to say.

I sneaked out of my room and made my way to the masjid silently. I know it's not good to eavesdrop but when I saw Ibrahim and Zeyara sitting face to face alone, in the men's side of the masjid, I hid behind my favourite eavesdropping hideout, the door.

They were far away from where I was standing. Zeyara's back was towards me while Ibrahim faced my direction.
Both of them were dressed in traditional Arab thobes.

From the back, Zeyara's almost bald head made me want to slap myself. I need to start controlling my words because they affect people so badly. That's why the Prophet SAWW said, 'speak a good word or remain silent.'

I directed all my attention towards their words.

"So I know that my sister likes you, it's pretty obvious but I'm sure her liking towards you is not because of you it's just because she has never been around men and now that she saw one, she just fell like a hormonal idiot."

I repressed the urge to go and slap Ibrahim. Ugh. Does he not know that all my life I've been in the United Kingdom. Throughout my school and college there were loads of boys that I could fall for. It's not that the only boy I ever saw was Zeyara!

"Well, she had many other male class fellows....." Zeyara trailed off, voicing my thoughts.

Yes, good.

Ibrahim shook his head and spoke again. "Were they Muslims?"

Oh. He has a point there.

"No." Zeyara mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"That's what I mean. She only saw you as the first practicing Muslim of supposedly her age and she fell for you. Which you aren't." Ibrahim snapped coldly. "What age are you?"

At this point I felt my heart thumping. What if he really turns out to be a forty years old-

"Twenty one." Zeyara sighed, looking down at the ground. "And to be honest, the only reason I'm marrying her is because I'm twenty one. I would've never imagined marrying at the age of seventeen."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Zeyara is twenty one.
I mentally started thinking of our age difference because I'm a freak like that. Turns out he is four years older than me.
Okay.....acceptable enough.
How did he even get admitted in college though?
Wait, if he's twenty one shouldn't he be in university?
So many questions were lingering in my mind that I wanted to run up to Zeyara and ask him everything.

However I calmed myself down saying that I'll get the chance for all that once we're married.

"Fair enough." Ibrahim said, "Next thing is, where would you take Mashal when you marry her? I'm sorry but I can't allow you to keep her here at Alnihayya. She needs and she deserves a proper house after all she has gone through."

"I- I will buy a house in sha Allah. Till then, she can live here with me. I have my father's house in Manchester but I will be working here in Syria. I want her to be with me. I don't want us to still be parted after marriage." I could feel Zeyara's voice getting deeper and more sweeter for my ears as he continued speaking. He looked away from Ibrahim's eyes when he began speaking this. "I know she's not my wife yet but I can't stay away from her. That's the hardest thing for me. I've been dealing with temptations so much. I know you are her brother and you might want to kill me for saying this, but you are also a boy and you are aware of how hard it is. I respect her so much and I always try to keep my gaze low but there is nothing more that I would want than to see her and hold her close. And I assure you Ibrahim, I've never ever been close to a woman and I've never even seen one directly, I always saved myself for my wife for the sake of Allah and when I think of Mashal, I immediately know that she's the one I've been saving myself for."

I felt myself drowning in a wave of emotion and I could hear my heartbeat going crazy. I have no idea how to describe the effect that Zeyara's words caused.
It was as if I was dancing in the first rain after a long drought.

Silence reigned in the masjid after this. Ibrahim didn't say anything, neither did Zeyara. Someone had put their movie on pause.

A while later, Ibrahim finally broke the silence. "I have just one last thing left to ask, do you have enough money for her mahr?"

"I- I think I do. I'll borrow it from my father if I don't have the amount that Mashal wants."

I shouldn't have come here. This is just too emotional for me.

Ibrahim nodded and then said out loud, "Mashal is there anything you would want to ask?"

"No." I mumbled.
What?
I was supposed to be hiding. But I'm pretty sure Ibrahim addressed me...

"I know you are there behind the door. Come on in ukhti."

Shoot. How did he catch me? I bit my lip and walked in, looking down at the ground and playing with my fingers.
Zeyara didn't turn around to see me but I could see his back getting stiffer.
He would be just too embarrassed that he said all that in front of me.

"N- no, I have nothing to ask.....except" I gulped, It was never too difficult to talk before. "I want to study."

Ibrahim glanced at Zeyara with a questioning look, waiting for his answer.

"If that's what you want then okay." Zeyara whispered, without looking back at me.

I smiled a little to myself. It was just so beautiful how he was still too shy to glance at me even though I was fully covered.

Ibrahim cleared his throat and began speaking in a happy tone. "So when do you want the nikah Mr. Zeyara Suleiman?"

"As soon as possible." Zeyara mumbled.

I couldn't help but laugh inwardly. He was just as impatient as I was.

"What about today after Maghrib?" I blurted out, unable to stop myself.
Okay Mashal, now you seem like a desparate ex girlfriend trying-
But I always seem like that in Zeyara's case don't I?

Ibrahim burst out laughing at my comment and I could even hear Zeyara's muffled laughter which made me want to hide somewhere.

"What?" I rolled my eyes, "You said yourself that you want it as soon as possible."

The thing was, I wanted to hold Zeyara so badly that I couldn't help it. Waiting for another day or two was just too difficult for me.

"You don't even have a wedding dress and my room..." Zeyara tried to reason but I wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"A wedding dress can be bought in five minutes and what's wrong with your room?" I asked.
Okay yes I am a bit too impatient.

Even Ibrahim stared at Zeyara with his eyebrows knitted trying to figure out what he meant by his room.

"Uh- nothing." Zeyara stuttered, "My room is just not clean. You won't like it."

Ibrahim let out a chuckle and I scoffed. "Well who said I am going to sleep in your room? Don't get your expectations too high mister."

"Oh." Zeyara gasped. "I thought-"

"You thought that I would spend the night with you and do eighteen plus stuff." I interrupted him. "I'm seventeen. It's illegal for me."

Zeyara literally threw his head down in shame and embarrassment while Ibrahim and I laughed. This was too funny. I wish I could see Zeyara's facial expressions but he wasn't facing me.

"Okay the nikah today." Zeyara agreed reluctantly when me and Ibrahim recovered from our laughing fit. "Then we can have our walima tomorrow."

"Yep!" I almost jumped in excitement. "Now go off my lazy, 'almost husband' and buy me a wedding dress. Oh and I don't even have a single piece of jewellery."

Saying this I ran out of the masjid with redness splattered over my cheeks.

"Hey at least tell me which colour you would like?" I heard Zeyara scream before I rushed out.

As if I would tell you. You'll have to figure it out yourself.

"I am getting married today!" I exclaimed to myself as I looked at my mirror image.
That one sentence had way too much meaning and emotions. It meant that Zeyata would see my face, my hair for the first time ever. It meant that I would be able to hug him. I would have someone to pray tahajjud with.
I would have someone's shoulder to cry on and someone's ears to let out everything that bothers me.

I wiped the single tear off my face.
A few months back, I couldn't even imagine that the guy on the bus who didn't sit down because of me, would end up being my husband.

I shrugged the thoughts and memories off, to stop torturing my eyes and my mind.

I took a deep breath and walked into the shower.
The warm water ran over my skin, soothing and exfoliating it. The days I used to cry in the shower still haunted me but I knew that this would be the last shower I would take as the old me.
After today, I'll be a happily married and loved woman and the past will be left behind.

After my long shower, while I waited for my wedding dress to arrive, I read the Quran and calmed myself down. It was too difficult to stay calm, knowing that Zeyara might be choosing my dress right now.

It was past Asr, when I finally heard a knock on the door. My heart beat became uneven and I gasped for breath.
I was on a rollercoaster of emotions when I opened the door and saw two women who I recognised from the kitchen.
They had huge shopping bags in their hands and they smiled at me. "We're here to get the bride ready."

I blushed when they called me the bride and opened the door wide to let them in.
They emptied the contents of the shopping bags on my bed. I didn't care to look at anything else except for the white beauty that lay on the bed.
Zeyara figured it out that I wanted a white wedding dress! Happiness jolted inside me and my stomach twisted in weird knots.
The dress was simple and plain white with a bit of embroidery and frills. Zeyara even sent a white face veil along with it which made me smile. Looking at the fact that he had so little time and money to buy a dress, he did a really a good job.

I was still lost in my thoughts when one of the women pushed me into the bathroom along with the dress, saying something like, 'you're getting late.'

I stripped off my clothes which I had been washing and wearing over and over again since I was first kidnapped by Zeyara and taken to Pakistan.

The red shirt had now started going pink because because of the continuous washing.
The feel of a brand new dress felt foreign against my skin. I couldn't believe it was me. It was too hard to recognise myself in the mirror.

When I walked out, the ladies looked astounded to say the least. "Wow! You look beautiful!" One of them gasped and pulled me into an uncomfortable hug.

"Thanks." I managed to mutter.

They helped me get my hijab done and asked if I wanted to apply make up.
I thought about it and then shook my head negatively. "I want him to see the real me."

They began arguing about how make up won't change me, it would just 'enhance' me but I was too stubborn.
Finally they managed to convince me to get some traditional Arabic kohl in my eyes and a bit of red lipstick.

Zeyara had even sent a bunch of artificial flowers. At first I was a bit frustrated that it was my big day and he was giving me fake flowers.
But then I saw a note in the bunch which read,

"Real flowers die after some time. These won't. Just like our relationship."
-MZS

I knew it was Zeyara who wrote that note and it did make me smile, but it also made me go crazy for a bit.
That phone call I once made to those numbers which all responded with MZS and a number!

MZS!!
Ya Allah! I guess it stands for, "Muhammed Zeyara Suleiman"
There's a crazy lot of information that Zeyara is hiding.

"Come on its time!" The women snapped at me, bringing me back to the present. "You look like someone sucked the life out of you."

"No its just- I'm nervous." I lied. I couldn't just tell her about MZS.

She nodded in an understanding manner and set my veil in place. "Don't worry. Just breathe, you look beautiful."

I smiled at her and was about to say thanks when someone knocked at the door.
"It must be your brother." She exclaimed and quickly fixed her hijab before opening the door.

It really was Ibrahim, dressed in a clean new thobe. He was even wearing a headdress.

I was staring at him and he was staring back at me. "You look amazing." We both blurted out to each other at the same moment and then burst out laughing.

"Come on. Let's get the nikah done." Ibrahim chuckled and put his hand forward for me to grab. I took it and felt the warmth engulfing my cold hand.

"You're freezing cold." Ibrahim whispered to me when we walked hand in hand to the masjid.

"I'm actually shivering." I confessed.
It was just too scary and exciting at the same time. Everything was going on well and it was sort of unbelievable. I had no idea everything would turn out to be perfect.

Ibrahim stopped when we were just outside the masjid. He turned to face me and planted a kiss on my forehead which I could feel even through my hijab. "Stop stressing. In sha Allah everything would be okay."

I nodded slightly and he smiled at me as he directed me inside the masjid.
I had my eyes lowered but I could still tell that the masjid was crowded. A lot of Alnihhaya members had come to the wedding even on such a short notice.

Ibrahim took me to the front and asked me sit down on his side. I did as he said, still not looking up.
Then the nikah started.
Everything else blurred out for me until, Ibrahim addressed me, "What do you want as your mahr?" He asked.

I bit my lip, I had not thought of this earlier. I didn't want to burden Zeyara and I didn't want to let myself be without a mahr. It was my Islamic right so I took a deep breath and blurted out, "I want him to teach me his fighting skills, I also want him to memorize surah Al Baqarah and.... a hajj in my lifetime, whenever he can afford it."

I heard people whispering in the mosque but I couldn't care less. I was not going to ask Zeyara for loads of gold or money. It was enough that I had him.

"I already know surah Al Baqarah." I heard Zeyara say, his voice was clear even though there was a lot of whispering going on. I didn't dare to look up at him. I would've died of his attractiveness.

Come on Mashal think of something else. Something that you've always wanted.....
"Okay....then I want you to take me out to an expensive restaurant for dinner."

I could hear some people laughing and honestly I wanted to laugh as well, but I was the bride so I kept my cool.

"Okay then if that's sorted out. Let's begin with you Mashal." Ibrahim said.

I nodded slightly and heard Ibrahim say something but I didn't pay attention to it. I was too absorbed in my thoughts and my funny mahr.
It was when he stopped talking and silence reigned in the masjid that I realised it was my my turn to say I do.

"I accept." I whispered.

Ibrahim said it again, "Do you Mashal Naeem accept Zeyara Suleiman as your husband for the decided mahr?"

"Yes." I said once again.
This time I had heard each word carefully and I couldn't help but smile as he asked me the third time.

"Do you Mashal Naeem accept Zeyara Suleiman as your husband for the decided mahr?"
"I accept." I said and felt myself experience that flush of emotions again.

Ibrahim asked me to sign on a paper and I did it quickly even though my hands were shaking and my signature seemed unrecognizable.

Then it was Zeyara's turn. The same question was asked and I heard him say yes three times, before our fate was sealed.

I felt my ears shut off to the congratulations that people muttered to me. I didn't even pay attention to the women who came and hugged me. All I knew was that I could be with Zeyara now.

And that was all that mattered.
Alhamdulillah.

☆

I'm a really good person because I updated and that too, such an amazing chapter. 😂

You're welcome.

-Muskaan