Narrated Al-Numan bin Bashir (may Allaah be pleased with him): Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said, “The believers having mercy, love and kindness among themselves are like one body, so that if any part of the body is not well, then the whole body shares sleeplessness and fever with it.”

–Saheeh Bukhari & Saheeh Muslim

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Rida kicked a flat stone out of her path, huffing for the tenth time as she took in the sight in front of her. Her lips parted. Her jaw grew tight. Her head was thrown back in desperation, seeking help from the One above the heavens, before she brought her hand to her neck.

Her Scooty had gotten a flat tyre in the middle of nowhere, causing her to get stranded with no way to get back to her apartment. Had it been any other normal day, her flat tyre wouldn’t have bothered her; but the Chief Minister of the State lay critical in one of the most renowned hospitals in the city, and it had led to panic among the masses.

It was a very precarious situation. So people from all over the city were rushing to get back home with the intent on securing themselves and locking their houses—in case riots were going to break out and in case the lady in question was going to pass away.

This was precisely why Rida found herself all alone in the vast stretch of road that ran for miles together. There was not a single person in sight. All the shops were closed. Rida wasn’t able to find anything or anyone who would help her with her flat tyre. It was a forty-minute ride back home; and, if she were to drag her Scooty all along the way, it would take her forever to reach her place.

Rida chided herself for having travelled all the way to pay the taxes. She could have very well opted to stay back home comfortably and done all the necessary things online, but she had been a fool. Fearing the thoughts that accompanied her if she stayed idle, she had acted on impulse and set out for paying the tax. As if that was not enough, she had even taken a longer route. She had thought it would keep her loneliness at bay. Rida bit her lip in contemplation now. She was paying the price for her foolishness. Having run over a broken liquor bottle some drunkard had thrown in the highway, she was paying for the actions spurned without thoughts.

Settling atop her Scooty, Rida fervently hoped for someone to come along the road and give her a lift or, at least, help her with her vehicle.  A dog leisurely walked past her. She observed a flock of migratory birds overhead, flying in their formation. Rubbing her face, she leant forward, rested her weight on her toes, and prayed. It wasn’t long when two cars came down the road, igniting a spark of hope in her. She stood up and waved out to them.

Just as quickly as the hope sparked, the flame died down when the cars rode past her and shot out of sight.

Rida frowned. She planted her hands on her hips. The weather was chilly, and it was getting increasingly uncomfortable for her. She didn’t know if she could get help or even get back home before it became dangerous.

Ten minutes more were spent in idle wait. No one came along. A groan escaped her. Rida pressed the heel of her palms in her eyes. She had the option of ringing someone up to come pick her up; but she knew she didn’t want to impose on anyone—not intentionally, at least. Her friends would be busy with their families. She didn’t want to interrupt their plans or holidays. Moreover, no one knew that she had come so far all on her own. She didn’t intend on letting them get even so much as a hint as to what was going on in her head.

A few more minutes had passed when she heard the sound of a vehicle. Looking up, she saw a Toyota and sprang to action. Her feet took her to the side of the road. Her hands waved out frantically in hopes that the car would slow down; but when even this car shot past her, Rida grew frustrated. She blew air out of her mouth, seized the handle of her vehicle, and started tugging it forward, deciding on walking all the way. It was better to walk home than sit here and hope for people to grow a heart.

No sooner had she taken a few steps, the Toyota that crossed her a few seconds ago started coming backwards.

Her eyes assessed it quizzically; and yet her legs continued to walk despite the alarm going off in her head. As expected, the car came to a halt next to her. The driver’s window rolled down. Out peeped the very face that had irked her ever since she had the misfortune of seeing it.

“Hey,” called out Wasiq, waving out to her jubilantly.

Rida ignored him and walked on. A moment passed. Not liking the way he was blatantly ignored, the guy started his engine but lowered his speed and rode parallel to Rida, trying to get her into a conversation.

“Okay, assalamu alaikum.” He tried again, thinking she would be pressed into replying to the greeting; and again, Rida refrained from answering him.

“Oh hello, madamji. Are you not aware that you are expected to reply to a fellow Muslim?” He tried goading her.

“It isn’t necessary that a woman has to greet every Tom, Dick, and Harry. It is enough if she greets only her relatives,” Rida bit back, unable to control.

“Oh! You mean that a girl only has to greet her mehrams, right? So you think of me as a na mehram? Good to know.”

Upon realising what he had meant, Rida wheeled around and narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t even think about it. I’d kill you with my bare hands right now if you don’t stop irritating me. There wouldn’t be any evidences or eye witnesses either.” Rida gestured towards the empty roads.

“Maybe you are forgetting, my lady, my family is full of lawyers. They would get to you anyhow. Within a day if I dare to say.”

“Urgh!” Rida groaned in frustration. “Shut up and get lost!”

“Nope. Nada.”

“Please.”

“I didn’t stop here to get lost. Flat tyre?” he questioned as he glanced at her Scooty.

“No, broken liquor bottle.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“I know. Now, get lost.”

“You wound my pride. What sort of gentleman would that make me if I leave a lady in distress at a deserted road like this?” He clicked his tongue to add in a dramatic effect. “I want to give you a lift. Isn’t it why you waved out earlier?”

“That was before I got to know it was you.”

“So you’d rather get into a car with strangers than me? That hurts, you know.”

Rida chose to ignore him.

“Rida. Get in.” His voice was serious now, devoid of playfulness, but the only thing she did was ignore him.

“Rida, are you getting in or should I force you?” Seconds ticked. “Rida!”

“What’s your problem?” she yelled. “You stopped because I waved out, right? Now I’m saying that I don’t want your help. Why can’t you go away?”

He smiled at her smugly. “Whether you like it or not, we are related, alright?” When Rida arched her eyebrows at that, he ignored her and continued, “Your uncle is my uncle, too, so we are obviously related, and what do you think Uncle will feel when he gets to know that I didn’t help you in such a situation?”

“I’m not going to tell him that. You can get that out of your mind.”

“But my conscience will not let me be in peace!”

“Glad to know you have some.”

“Rida, get in. I won’t be sweet for long.”

“It isn’t appropriate for me to get into your vehicle anyhow,” she stated firmly, dragging her vehicle even faster.

“When Ayesha (may Allaah be pleased with her) once returned to her camp late after searching for her lost necklace, she realised that she was lost. She returned home only with the help of a sahabi,” he called out.

Rida froze. She turned around to face him, suprised that he even knew the Seerah.

“What?” He grinned. “Just because I look like a free cad, doesn’t mean I am one. I know the Seerah completely, ya know.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That you could travel with me when there is an emergency, and it is not a problem.”

“But the sahabi walked and let Ayesha (may Allaah be pleased with her) sit on the camel,” she stated wryly, resuming her walk.

“You suggest I walk while I own this beauty? That’s outrageous.”

“No. I say I better ring up my family or friends.”

“And risk their lives? You should have done that earlier, but now it’s too late. Don’t you think it’s going to be harmful for them? Get in, Rida.”

Rida took in her surroundings before exhaling. He was right. She couldn’t risk their lives for her sake. It was getting late, and there was no one about. The sky was even starting to darken. Maybe this one time won’t hurt. “What about my Scooty?” she asked in her last attempt of escaping him.

He smirked. “It’s good that I own a Toyota Sienna.”

Shortly after that, the two of them were on their way after having made space for her Scooty in the vehicle by moving its seats aside. Everything was set. Although she would never dare admit it out loud, Rida felt glad that this precise vehicle had come along. Had it been something else, she realised, she would have to leave her vehicle behind. This arrangement could drop not only her but also her Scooty. The help—his car, in particular—seemed Godsent!

However, despite the awareness that everything was going to be alright and she was going to reach home safely, the atmosphere changed visibly once she had gotten in. Though she sat on the back seat decisively, quite a distance away from him, they grew silent and stiff, suddenly becoming aware of the other’s proximity. All the playfulness dissipated. Nothing, except for the sound of air-conditioner, was heard.

“So . . .” he drawled in an attempt to discard the awkwardness after bearing it too long for his liking, “what made you think that I was stealing the other day?”

“Huh?” Rida turned away from the window.

He glanced at her and, all of a sudden, felt a foreign emotion tug at his heart. “Er . . .” His mind drew blank for a moment. “I mean, why did you think that I had broken into the office?”

“Your black attire.”

He threw his head back and laughed. His rich laughter reverberated in the car, making her scowl at him even more.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to control his laughter only to burst out laughing once again. “That was my jogging costume. Haven’t you seen one?”

“It’s not like I have a brother. How should I know? I don’t have the habit of ogling at any males.”

“Oh,” he said, turning his attention back on the road. “You don’t have a brother. A sister, maybe?”

Her thoughts drifted to Mehrin instantaneously. “Yes. I have a sister.”

The girl was up to something. Rida could feel it in her. The way she daydreamed and constantly changed topics, Rida knew for sure that she was hiding something. It gave negative vibes off her—such strong vibes; but, each time Rida approached the girl, she had managed to slip away, giving some silly excuse. Soon enough, her exams, too, had commenced, putting a halt to whatever Rida was trying to get out of her.

Her mind was so engrossed in thoughts that she failed to make note of the pair of eyes that were looking at her worriedly, blinking a little too fast.

“Rida. Rida. Are you alright?”

Rida whirled around to look at Wasiq again, wondering whether the concern she heard in his tone was true or forced. “Y-yes,” she managed to squeak.

“Why is it that you’re always so cold towards me?”

“Because you always provoke me.” She refused to elaborate.

“Oh, I do that, don’t I? But that’s because you’re so amusing.”

She scowled.

“We have arrived at the locality you mentioned. Now tell me, where exactly is your house?”

“You can stop the car right here,” she told him, pulling her bag to her shoulders.

He was taken aback. “What? Tell me where your house is. I promise I’d stop at a discrete distance. Your mom wouldn’t see. It isn’t safe to let you go alone.”

“No, stop here. It isn’t as if this area is deserted. People are still about. Please stop here.” Her hand went for the door.

He sighed in defeat before getting out and helping her with her Scooty.

She thanked him politely and started walking away while he stood there watching. He watched her as she became smaller and smaller, and the distance between them grew. She swerved at a corner, disappearing behind the cluster of buildings.

He ran his hand through his hair, messing up his already tousled locks before turning and getting into his car, revving the engine and driving off.

Even as he drove, he couldn’t shake off the niggling voice in his head that told him he had left something behind.

*         *         *

Later that evening, when the panic had decreased and everyone were huddled in their houses, Rida sat in her balcony that overlooked the deserted city. A cup of coffee in her hands, her eyes rested on the buildings ahead.

Her phone dinged twice. She reached over to the windowsill to retrieve it, only to find a text from an unknown number.

It read: Did you reach home safely?

Guessing it was Wasiq, she itched to throw the phone away; but courtesy demanded she give him a reply. Something told her that she, at least, had to thank him properly and tell him she got home safe and sound. He had, after all, helped her when no one else did.

So she typed: Yes, thank you, but how did you get my number?

The reply came within a minute: I have my ways, love 😉

She wrinkled her nose in displeasure.

He will never learn.

She proceeded to block him.

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Glossary:

Mehram : the relatives of the girl with whom she can mingle freely and it is unlawful for her to marry them i.e her father, her brothers, her uncles, her nephews, her sons. Her husband comes under this category too.

Na mehram : the people with whom the girl cannot mingle freely, cannot be without her hijab and can be married off to.

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