On the authority of Abu Hamza Anas ibn Malik(may Allaah be pleased with him), the servant of the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) from the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings of Allah be upon) who said, “None of you (truly) believes until he loves for his brother what he loves for himself.”

–Saheeh Bukhari

*         *         *

Rida was seething with anger.

Mindlessly, she slogged down the stairs, walked towards her Scooty, and clambered onto it with thoughts about her new sister swirling in her mind.

Mehrin . . .

All the events that had occurred the day before and all the news that had been thrown at her unexpectedly had gotten to her, numbing all her sensations by the time she went to bed last night; but when she had woken up today, everything flashed back. All that she had been feeling turned into anger. All her exhaustion converted into frustration.

Her eyes were ablaze. There was a permanent scowl etched onto her features. Her anger was clouding her senses. It was as though the calm ocean had turned into boiling lava overnight, and there were more than one to be blamed for the change.

Rida was angry with what Mehrin’s relatives had done to the poor girl. She was angry with how things had turned out in Mehrin’s life. She was angry with the way the poor girl had to run away in order to survive, in order to live her life. Words were not sufficient to explain the feelings coursing through her; and instead of just feeling all blue and doing nothing about it, she had decided upon visiting a friend today to see what she could do to be of help. The decision was taken on an impulse, but she so badly wanted to help the girl for more reasons than one. It wasn’t even difficult in the least to list out the reasons why.

Never in her life had Rida met someone who made her feel such strong emotions the way Mehrin did. Never in her life had someone made such an impact on her in such a small duration of time. Never before had she met someone who wore an impassive mask, trying to fool everyone around; but, somehow, Rida was able to see through her smile.

It was all different for Rida when it came to Mehrin. She was able to see the desolateness in the girl’s eyes. She could understand her even without the use of words. She could sense the pain, the frustration, and the fear. A voice at the back of her head told her it was because she saw herself in Mehrin, the girl Rida herself was once upon a time—confused and vulnerable. But she, at least, had her uncle with her to offer some solid support. Mehrin had none.

Rida couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such raw emotions because of someone—the last time she had felt such intense urge to pull someone close. Mehrin had made space for herself in her heart without much effort, and it was unsettling to know that such a sweet soul was left out there all alone.

Clouded with such unsettling thoughts, Rida reached her destination. She parked her vehicle in a secluded area before turning off the ignition and getting off. As she stood in front of the building, she folded and unfolded her fingers, feeling a mix of anxiousness and excitement course through her veins. Rida knew that adopting Mehrin was going to be a tedious task, but she was ready to work through it all to see to it that the girl had a home in whatever way she could.

Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Rida pushed the double doors. When she set her foot inside her friend’s cabin, her heart brimmed with fierce determination.

“Hey,” she called out in reflex, ready to go and annoy the world out of Shakeena, but froze when she saw someone else other than her friend in the room. Rida stared wide-eyed.

There was a guy in there dressed in a complete black attire with his back facing her, hurriedly digging into the safe attached to one of the walls of the cabin. Rida suspected that he had neither heard nor seen her enter from the way he was intently doing his work, but that wasn’t what Rida found to be queer; rather, the drawers that were turned upside down, the papers that were strewn across the floor, and the furious way he rummaged through the safe.

Her instincts kicked in at once. Clearly, he didn’t look like he belonged to the place. Her inner voice told her to get outside safely and ring up the police to report the intruder. There could be important papers in this office and that could be why the guy had broken in.

She braced herself knowing she had to do something about this issue. Slowly, she backed away one step at a time, trying not to make any noise; but, after a couple of steps, the back of her knees and calves hit a sofa. She lost her footing and stumbled.

This is the height of clumsiness, Rida!

Her pulse quickened in fear when she thought about what she would have to face after this. She fixed herself, watching in horror as the black-clothed guy turn towards her. His eyebrows furrowed and forehead creased before he started taking long strides in her direction. She froze.

“Miss,” he stated, stretching his hand out to her for support.

Frowning, Rida got up all by herself, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Who are you?” she demanded once she was on her feet. “What have you done to the room?”

The guy looked at her with a strange expression on his face. “Why do you think I should answer you?”

“Because you’ve broken into the place,” she deadpanned.

His expression shuttered for a second before a smirk started forming on his countenance.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, scratching his chin. “You think I’m an intruder?” He grinned. “I wonder what made you think that I broke in. If you do not know, I am in-charge of the place.” He stretched his arms to emphasize his point.

Rida stared at him in shock. He had the guts to lie to her face even after she had caught him red-handed. For as long as she had known, the person in-charge of this particular branch of the law firm had always been Shakeena and no one else. “Lies,” she spat. “I know the person in-charge. She is my friend; and, as far as I could see, you are not her.”

“Huh? Wait a minute. Shakeena is your friend?” The guy let out a throaty laugh. “Such a talented lawyer, and you’re her friend? Oh my! This is ridiculous. I have heard that friends rub off of each other. If it is true, how come you are so dumb unlike your friend?”

“I’m going to report you, liar.” She threw at him, turning around; but, before she could take another step, a big warm hand caged her wrist forcing her to face him again.

“You are going to make a fool of yourself.”

Rida gritted her teeth. “Let go of my hand!”

“No way!”

“I’m going to scream and make a big scene if you don’t let go of my hand this instant!”

He didn’t move. He just stood there, his hand holding hers, infuriating her more. Rida scowled, deciding on screaming for help; but, when she opened her mouth to scream, his other hand descended on her mouth, forcing it shut. She tried wriggling, tried kicking him, tried freeing herself; but he kept ducking all her advances.

            He even started to move in small circles to evade her kicks; and, in one of those attempts, his legs tripped on the edge of her abaya, and the impact dragged him to the ground. Although it had caused even Rida to land in a crawling position next to him, she realised that her arm was freed. After the fall, he had let her go and clutched his elbow instead.

            Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Rida tried getting on her feet in order to escape. The guy, however, was quick to catch on to what she was doing. Before she could escape, his arms came down, pinning her wrists behind on the table.

He hovered over her. “Just listen to what I say. Ring up Shakeena and ask her of this. If she says something different, you are free to go.” He gritted his teeth.

Struggling against his hold, Rida contemplated on his words. Since there were no other plausible alternative, she decided to concede. He freed her right hand. Huffing, she took out her mobile and dialed Shakeena who answered after a few rings.

“Hello. I’m sorry. I don’t know you.”

“Shakeenaaa,” Rida prolonged.

“What else do I do to someone who has forgotten my existence?”

“Shakeena, I’m sorry, but this is not the time for your antics. Just tell me one thing—where are you and who is in your office currently?”

“That is what I’ve been trying to telling you!” Shakeena exclaimed from the other side of the line. “If you would have so kindly checked the mails I sent you, you would know that I’m in Kerala planning my wedding! And about the office—my senior’s son has taken over it.” Rida cut the call.

“So you are him—the senior’s son?” She frowned at the guy, her gaze burning holes through him with evident distaste.

He grinned at her. “Yes, that I am.”

“Now, take your filthy hands off me, alright.” She scowled.

“Hey, tigress, I was holding only your hands, okay? You speak as if I’m swooning over you,” he mocked, lifting up his hands in the air.

Rida slumped against one of the legs of the table, instantly feeling relieved when he drew his hands off her. No one had manhandled her before. Her breath came out in rags.

“I suppose you are one of those who act all innocent when they are nothing but that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nah, was just wanting to see how you react to an accusation. You’ve been accusing me of breaking into my own place since the time you’ve entered my place, haven’t you?”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here anymore.” Heaving herself onto her feet, Rida strode towards the exit, remorse filling up her chest.

“Shall I give you free advice, lioness?” he called out after her.  “You’ve been here for hardly five minutes and more than a hundred expressions have flickered in your eyes within that short interval. I think you need a psychiatrist.”

“Shut up!” she yelled over her shoulder. He was bringing out the worst in her. Oh, how she wanted to twist his neck and sabotage his voice box. He would never be able to show up in public when she was finished with him.

Once she was outside the building, her steps slowed down, her mind reeling over all that had happened in the last few minutes. She contemplated on what the guy had said, and she couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with her. She exhaled.

There were no answers as to why she kept switching from one feeling to another in such a fast pace. No normal being would do that. Do I have some sort of disorder?

It was just getting too much to bear of late. Problems were piling up and taking a toll on her. Even little things weighed heavily on her now. The smallest of things set her off. Everywhere she turned, issues awaited her. Rida clutched the handle of her bag tightly as tears blurred her vision, but she was adamant to not let them fall down.

Things were going wrong—so very wrong. No matter what path she chose, there were always hurdles hindering her progress. Something was always there pushing her ten steps back for each step she took forward.

Eventually, she always landed from where she began.

At square one.

She knew that she had to be patient. She was very well aware that it was all a test; but she was a human being after all, with all the flaws one could possibly possess. There were times she clammed up and wished for something more than what life had to offer. Things that were simple yet unattainable in her life.

If only I could, I would reach out and set a million things right.

Rida was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t realise when she had stopped walking. It was only when she felt a tug at her abaya did Rida come back to her senses and glance down to see a boy no more than ten years old holding a basket of flowers, looking at her earnestly.

“Akka,” he called out in their regional language. “Flowers, akka.”

“I don’t want any,” Rida told him dismissively, walking towards her Scooty.

No sooner had she taken a step that she heard a sob from somewhere behind her. Rida froze for the second time that day. Blinking back her tears, she turned around only to find that it was coming from the same little boy she had earlier denied.

Her now clear vision was able to notice the things she had previously overlooked. The boy was no more than ten years old; yet he looked very skinny for his age. He was wearing clothes that had clearly been mended more than once and were a little too big for him. His unkempt and dirty hair stood out in all directions, and his sunken eyes looked as though they had stories to tell.

Something broke within her to see the little fellow in such a vulnerable state. She bent down to his height and whispered, “Why are you crying?”

The boy wiped his eyes. He ventured forth to speak; but, before he could utter even a single word, his throat seemed to constrict, giving rise to a series of hiccups.

Rida drew a bottle from her bag and offered it to him. To her surprise, he chucked it down immediately. “Akka, please . . .” That was all he could manage before bursting into tears . . . again.

She took hold of his hands and crouched to his level. “Hey,” she tried soothing him, “unless you tell me what is wrong, I cannot help you out. Stop crying. Tell me what is wrong. What happened? Why are you crying?”

It took a good five minutes of consoling and another bottle of water to get him to tell the tale.

“My mother is dying,” he croaked in a raspy voice. “She is dying, and I can’t do anything.”

“Hey, look at me.” Rida grasped his chin, forcing him look at her. “What actually happened?”

“My mother was ill for the past week.” Hiccup.

“But now . . .” Hiccup. “She isn’t even able to sit up straight. I came out to sell flowers instead of her so I could get her something to eat.” He paused to wipe his tears on his sleeve. “I’ve been out since five in the morning, and no one is buying flowers. I’m afraid . . .” He sneezed. “I’m afraid she won’t survive. I can’t go back home without food and medicines. I’m afraid she won’t survive. I have no one, akka. I don’t know what to do.”

Rida’s heart went out to the little one who had taken it upon himself to help his family.

“What about your father?” she asked him softly, afraid of hurting him.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “He hasn’t come home since I was a kid.”

“Any siblings? Brothers or sisters?”

“No one, akka. It is only my mother and I who live in our house. We have no one.”

“What’s your name, lil one?”

“Rishi. My mother calls me Rishi.”

Rida noticed the way his face crumbled at the mention of his mother—the way his eyes turned sad. She simply didn’t have the heart to leave him this way. There had been cases of people using kids to kidnap girls in this manner, but something within her told her that Rishi wasn’t one among them.

Even if he was, she had a secret app installed on her phone to tip her friends and police about her whereabouts.

“Come on,” she called out to him. “We have work to do. Tell me where your house is.”

An hour later, Rida stood to a side, holding onto Rishi’s hand as the doctor examined his mother.

The lady looked so frail and deathly pale. Her form lay still on the broken cot as the doctor checked her vitals.

Rishi dug his face into Rida’s side each time his mother winced. Rida could tell that he was having a hard time. She simply held him as he became limp in her hands, uncaring of how dirty her abaya became.

She was being a human now, and her black flowy abaya could become even snowy white as far as she cared. It just didn’t matter. Life mattered to her. Small acts of humanity did. The way the boy held on to her as if she were an angel did.

When the doctor was done, he put away the equipment and started packing his case. Rida thanked him and questioned him about the lady’s health.

“It is malnutrition, my dear.” The doctor sighed. “Poverty does that to people. I have prescribed some medicines; but, if she keeps skipping food, I’m afraid she wouldn’t hold out for long.”

“Your fee, doctor?” Rida questioned him, taking out her purse.

“Let it be, my child. I could not be considered as someone who took an oath to save lives if I collect fee for such people. Moreover,” the old man smiled, “you’re my friend’s kid. Anything for you.”

Rida gulped down her emotions and forced a smile on a face at the mention of her father.

“He was always involved in some humanitarian project or the other. Had he seen you now, he would have been proud of what you have become.” The doctor smiled sadly. “Okay, I’m off. Take care, dear.” He turned towards Rishi. “And you,” he pointed his finger at him, “take care of your mom.”

The doctor left shortly, and Rida fussed over the mother-son duo for the next half hour. She stacked up the provisions she had brought for them on a shelf with a smile playing on her lips. She also made sure all the medicines needed for the woman for the next few weeks was bought. As she went about with her work, Rida noticed how the one-bedroom house was clean but bare at the same time.

It had a thatched roof with only a few basic necessities; but, to Rida, it seemed more of a home than her extravagant apartment. Smiling sadly, she turned around. The grass, for people, she had long come to realise, was always greener on the other side.

Rishi’s mother cradled Rida’s face in her bony hands when she was about to leave. “God bless you, my child,” she croaked. “God bless you. You have so much love within you that you came into the slum area for some mere beings such as us. Most don’t even care what happens to us, but you are different. May God ease all your troubles,” she said, her coughs becoming louder. “May He grant you the best in everything.”

Rida’s already sensitive heart was chipped a little with every utterance. Mehrin, the day before; and, today, it had been Rishi and his mother. With all the people around her suffering in their own way, Rida felt guilty for thinking her burden was heavy.

In front of them, her problems seemed insipid now—bland.

With that realization had come guilt for holding on to her past the way she did. She had shared beautiful moments with her parents, and it was dawning upon her that she was marring it with her sad feelings. Moreover, it wasn’t as if they were cut off from her forever. By the will of Allaah, she would meet them in the afterlife; and there would be a second part to their story. A thought that she wasn’t helping her case by crying crossed her.

She felt that it was time to let it go completely. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the house. Help me, Ya Allaah. Help me do what is right.

***