"The love of Allah is like the ocean, you can see it's beginnings, but you cannot imagine it's width and depth. Allah SWT loves you immensely in a way you can never imagine."

The sound of the house phone reverberated throughout the house, causing both of them to run towards it at top speed.

It was a habit they had from small, racing for the phone, and even though they were not really children anymore, they would still do it. Old habbits die hard after all.

Yusaira grabbed the phone from its cradle, just before Leyyas' fingers could grasp it.

She frowned at Yusaira, who stuck her tongue out in return, struggling to get her breath back so  that she could answer the woman who repeatedly asked if anyone was there.

Just as the woman was about to cut the call, she heard a breathless voice.

"Assalmaualaykum."

For some reason that voice sent tremors through out her body, could it be?

When she heard the girl on the other end echoing a hello, she cleared her throat, pushing aside her thoughts.

"Wa'alaykusalam."

"Who would you like to speak to?"

She asked politely.

"Lutfiya please."

"My parents are not home.
May I take a message?"

"Umm okay, that's not a problem. I wanted to speak to Lutfiya, when she gets home tell her that it's urgent and she must please phone me back as soon as possible."

Yusairas heart thudded in her chest.

"Okay I will do that."

"Jazakumullahu Khairan my dear."

"BarakAllah!"

" Are you Lutfiyas' daughter?"

"Jee I am."

"Ma Sha Allah you sound so mature and grown up now. I havn't seen you in a while. What's your name again? I'm so terrible with names?"

She smiled at the woman's blabbering, it reminded her of herself when she was nervous.

" My name is Yusaira."

Dead silence.

"Hello. Hello ?"

"Uh..hmm lovely name MaShaAllah. I should go now."

The woman sounded like she was about to break down.

It broke Yusairas heart, she wondered what difficulty she must have been going through.

"Jee okay."

"Oh before you go..... I forgot to ask your name, so I can tell my mum who phoned."

The woman sighed, as if she had asked such a deep and difficult question.

"I cannot disclose to you my name yet dear. Just tell Lutfiya I told you to tell her this:

Dissappearence to you till this day remains unknown,
But now the wheels of fate have turned, in a different direction the winds have blown.
Everything is dark, lonely, horrid and cold,
To you the heart wishes it's secrets to unfold."

"Um okayyyy."

Yusaira felt a bit freaked out.

Her mind began concocting the worst case scenarios of who this woman was and what freaky things could happen.

She shouldn't have read that horor story last night, it was playing tricks with her mind.

"Assalmaualaykum my dear."

"Wa alaykusalam."

She placed the phone back in its cradle, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Her throat suddenly felt like a desert.

As she opened the fridge, the womans words replayed in her mind. That woman was very weird, and somewhat scary.

Dissapearence to you till this day remains unknown,

She rinsed the glass, placing it on the dish rack, grabbing a jungle bar, she ascended the stairs, her mind still playing the words of the woman.

But now the wheels of fate have turned, in a different direction the winds have blown.

She walked into her room shutting the door behind her.

Everything is dark, lonely,horrid and cold,

She flopped onto the bed, discarding the bar on the pedestal, she didn't feel like eating it anymore.

She covered herself with her blush pink throw, fluffing her pillows, and snuggling into her bed, she allowed her eyelids to drop down.

To you the heart wishes its secrets to unfold.

Ya Allah! She really just needed to nap right now, or else those words would dance in her mind.

She was already creeped out, she needed sleep. Sleep was her hiding place, her escape from reality, her time of bliss and peace.

She had awoken from her peaceful slumber when Laeeq knocked on her door, informing her that it was time for Asr Salaah and that Lutfiya required help in the kitchen.

She stretched like a cat, stifling a yawn, as she jumped off the bed, scurrying towards the bathroom to perform her wudhu.

Once she had completed her Salaah and dua, she raced towards the kitchen, colliding straight into her fathers chest.

The glass of ice water that he held in his hand spilled all over her head and clothes. She yelped as the freezing water seeped into her clothes and made contact with her skin.

She smiled sheepishly , as he shook his head in dissaproval.

"Why do you run blindly, Allah forbid you can get hurt when you run like a headless chicken!"

"Sorry ! "

She yelled, as she raced back to her room to change.

"Yusaira !"

He yelled, but she had already shut her door not hearing his call.

"Why are you yelling?"

Lutfiya came out of the kitchen, a dish cloth dangling from her hand.

When she saw his wet shirt, her mouth formed an O as realisation dawned upon her.

She took the glass from his hand, then stood directly infront of him, dabbing his soaked shirt. He smiled down at her lovingly.

Just then Laeeq appeared from the living room, and Yusaira from her room. They both winked at each other, dramatically covering their eyes, they yelled.

"No P.D.A !"

They turned their atttention to their children, confusion etched across their faces.

"What does that even mean?"

Zain questioned.

"P"

Laeeq put a finger up.

"Public"

Yusaira explained.

"D"

"Display of"

"A"

"Affection."

Zain shook his head.

"Kids of today !"

He muttered, heading towards the room to change.

A tint of pink coated Lutfiyas cheeks, she made an excuse of her food burning, scurrying back to the kitchen, embarrassed.

Yusaira joined her mother in the kitchen, pecking her on her cheek.

She rinsed her hands, then began chopping up the onions and tomatoes while Lutfiya washed and cleaned the chicken. Together they prepared supper. 

The occasional thud of a glass gainst the wooden table and the spoon scraping against the platter, was the only thing that could be heard as the family ate in comfortable silence.

While chewing his morsel of food, Zain glanced at the table that was laiden with three different lavish dishes, salad, homemade fruit juice and an assortment of pickles.

How ungrateful they were despite being  bestowed with countless bounties. Their table was laiden with scrumptious food, they had a roof over their head, comfortable beds, decent jobs, and so many other blessings that many have been deprived of.

He cleared his throat, demanding attention.

"My dear children, Allah Ta'allah says in the Quraan, And if you are grateful I will increase for you. Allah SWT loves those who are grateful,those who not only remember Him in times of difficulty only but those who remember him in times of ease and are thankful for their bounties. We should thank Allah SWT for the countless  bounties he has bestowed upon us, there are many around the globe that are suffering."

His voice cracked, he had heard it over the news, he had heard people discussing it , but he never really gave it so much of thought.

Now that he was seated in a comfortable home, with his belly filled, his wife and children around him, happily munching away, all of them oblivious of the men who are being tortured and killed, the innocent babies that are being murdered, the pure women who are being raped.

Now that he really reflceted over the matter, his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach.

They were so so ungrateful, despite having things so easy. Surely South Africa also had politics and their are  cons like every other country but there are pros as well, and why doesn't anyone even realise that ?
Why doesn't anyone speak about the good?

The Muslims of South Africa should be grateful that they are free to practice their religion! Besides for petty criticism from people who are ignorant and have nothing better to do than mock Islaam, they never really had it bad at all and still don't.

The Muslims of South Africa should be extremely grateful that they are allowed to build masaajid. Okay maybe certain areas the athaan is not allowed to be called out aloud, that's unfortunate, but atleast those areas still allow masaajid to remain, and Muslims to worship Allah in peace, they are not destroyed and turned into rubble.

Women can leave their homes donning the hijaab and niqaaab, and besides for a few startled stares and at times meagre comments, they aren't labeled 'terrorists', it's their free will to cover  themselves and it's their right, and no one can point fingers at them.

"Allah make it easy for them. The world is not getting any better, we have to make dua to Allah SWT to keep us steadfast upon our deen."

Lutfiya sighed.

The broadcasts on WhatsApp, the news, the videos that were sent, she could only read so much. She was too soft hearted, and too fragile to watch videos of people being massacred. She had no courage to see one more, she already had many sleep deprived nights, just listening to the news.
Only Allah SWT knows what would be her state if she watched such things.

As she gazed at her three lovely children, who ate in silence musing over what their father had mentioned and her husband in deep thought, his eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased. She just tried to put her feet into the shoes of a Palestinian, Syrian, Burmanian, Rohingniyan, or any mother who was suffering.

She tried to imagine a shelter,  a shack, a tent or maybe even a tree as her only shelter. She tried to imagine her husband besides her, bruised and cut, frail and weak. She tried to picture Laeeq, Yusaira and Leyya, taking shelter beneath the tree, clad in tattered clothing and dirty, muddy shoes, huddled together, clutching their stomachs due to pangs of hunger, begging her for food. 

She tried to picture herself, witnessing the difficulty of her family, hearing their cries and their pleas, but feeling utterly hopeless and too weak to answer to them.

This is the most she could picture, more than that her fragile heart would not allow her mind to picture. She could not even imagine what it would be like to have witnessed the death of her husband, or harm being inflicted upon her children, just the the thought caused a shiver to run down her spine.

Imagine the state of those mothers who had to witness that every day ?
How did they move on in life ? How did they deal with the pain ? Did they even look forward to waking up the next day?

A few salty drops ran down her cheeks, she was quick to wipe it away. She wasn't one to cry amidst people, always the silent mourner. Only on rare occasions, and this was a rare one.

Laeeq looked down at his plate,his heart extruding in pain just thinking about the condition of those children all over the world. While he as well as some of the children his age in South Africa lived a life of luxury and comfort, carfree, they hung out once in a while, going out to restaurants, spending their Saturday nights in the AstroTurf, venturing off to various botanical gardens, parks, activities during the  holidays, those children had no roof above their heads, they witnessed their houses being blown into smithereens.

They hardly had sufficient food, making do with one piece of bread for the day or nothing at all. Children his age were forced to mature before their age, overnight they had to take on the responsibility of looking after their mothers and younger siblings, for their fathers had become mytors, trying to protect them. They would have to walk miles, just to fetch a pail of water, sweltering in the heat, and soaking in the rain.

Yusaira glanced at Leyyas fallen face.

She tried to imagine, what it must feel like for a sister her age to witness her younger sister crying and begging for food, or wishing to have a new clean elegant dress, or even worse ...having to witness her younger sister bruised or harmed, Or the worst of all .. having to witness her sisters dead, pale, lifeless body, buried beneath the rubble, ashen face and cold hands and body.

She shook the thoughts away, she couldn't even fathom it ..but they were living it!

Before she  could burst into tears, she decided to change the topic.

She smacked her forehead when she remembered the mysterious caller.

How could she have forgotten?

"Ammi, I forgot to mention that someone called for you."

Lutfiya nodded at her.

" Who was it my dear?"

" I really don't know but one thing I do know is ....she was rather strange."

Lutfiya gave her a panicked look and Luqmaan passed her a look of concern.

"What do you mean by strange?"

"Well....when I enquired who she was, this is what she said."

She looked at her parents, repeating the words that remained engraved in her mind.

"Dissappearence to you till this day remains unknown".

Lutfiyas ears perked when she heard that.

"But now the wheels of fate have turned, in a different direction the winds have blown."

Lutfiya sucked in a breath, she had a hunch ...

"Everything is dark, lonely, horrid and cold"

Laeeq gave Yusaira a weird look. What the heck was she saying!

It must have been a prank.

"To you the heart wishes it's secrets to unfold."

Lutfiya looked at her husband, who looked utterly confused, but she knew exactly who it was!

"That is rather strange "

Zain finally agreed.

"It's a prank Yusi,why did you even listen to the woman?"

Lutfiya shook her head, her face paled.

She placed her hands on the table, as if she was saving herself from falling.

" It's Ruqayyya! "

She whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Dun dun dun!!!

Who's Ruqayyya? 😆

Any guesses?