Abu Hurairah (may Allaah be pleased with him) reported that Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said, “I command you to take care of women in a good manner. They are like the upper part of a rib which is most bent; if you try to straighten it, you will break it. So I command you to take care of women in a good manner.”

–Saheeh Bukhari & Saheeh Muslim

*         *         *

“Bhai,” Eshaal called out, expecting a reply from the darkened terrace. “Bhai.”

She wasn’t receiving a response; so she opened the door wider and stepped on to the chilled floor, shuddering slightly when her feet came in contact with the cold tiles of the terrace.

“Bhai, are you there?” She had to squint when the darkness blinded her for a few seconds. Standing still, she let her eyes adjust to the dim and almost non-existing light. Slowly, the rods and cones in the retina of her eyes started to adjust, and she was vaguely able to make out the silhouette of her brother. He was half seated, half sprawled on the terrace floor with the support of a cement pillar, seemingly gazing blindly at the night sky.

“Bhai.” He made no movement. His eyes still transfixed at the object of fascination—whatever it was. “Bhaiii.” Still no reply.  Believing her brother wouldn’t be returning from his dreamland anytime soon, she slowly crept towards him. He didn’t even sense her coming. She decided to take advantage of that fact by kneeling down a few inches from him and screamed into his ears.

Her brother flinched at the sound. His head turned to face her, a deep scowl making its way to his face. Her vision was becoming clearer by the minute, and she was easily able to make out the look of displeasure he sported. Her reply to it was a cheeky grin.

“Have you gone mad?” Irritation laced his tone.

She rolled her eyes haughtily. “Nope.”

“Yes,” he replied. “You aren’t going mad. You were mad right from the beginning.”

She ignored him, choosing to instead settle comfortably on the floor. She edged towards the pillar her brother was leaning on and pushed roughly against his shoulder to make space for herself.

Her brother flashed her a scowl. “Are you aware that you are becoming more violent as we near your wedding date? I’m afraid we are handing over a rogue to Tanvir. I almost pity the guy. He has absolutely no idea what he has signed up for. Poor chap. Tsk tsk.”

“Save it.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You’d miss all of this once I’m gone.”

“Must you remind me of that at every turn?” The words were mumbled softly, obviously not intended for her ears; but, since the night embracing the land was deadly silent, she was able to catch them crystal clear.

“What?” she questioned, faking confusion but, at the same time, internally hoping her brother would give her what she has been yearning for ever since she had caught him staring at her these past few days—a proper farewell speech.

“Nothing.” His attention returned to the sky.

Eshaal frowned at him. Your honour wouldn’t diminish if you get emotional for once and speak your heart out to your sister, you!

Sighing in disappointment, she leant back on the pillar and joined her brother in gazing at the sky.

It was a moonless night, which explained why the terrace was drowning in darkness. The street was amply lit, but with a huge tree situated right outside their house, not much of the light was able to reach them. Their terrace was almost always drowning in darkness.

In silence, the siblings sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the vast inky black expanse of what stretched ahead. As moments passed with Eshaal looking on, hundreds of stars made their presence known to her in the dark sky—some were so bright she could see them twinkle with ease, and some so small, she had to strain her eyes in order to see them. Utter bliss set in as she marvelled at the creations of Allaah; and, with the way they sparkled, it was as if they were winking at her playfully.

“These stars serve as the decoration pieces for the heavens,” her brother reminded her as they watched the sky together.

“Ya, I know,” she gushed. “Just look at those stars. They are numerous! It is so difficult to count even those that we are able to see from our place on Earth. Just imagine how many of those would be used to decorate the heavens! How huge the heavens would be!

“Jannah! Subhanallaah! There would be all what we would need for eternity, and there would be no restrictions whatsoever. We could do whatever we want, however we please. There would be no problems, no disappointments, and nothing lacking. All our loved ones will be together over there, and there would be no space for fear. No reason for pain and no depression. Heaven would be so . . .” she sighed a pleasant sigh, “heavenly.”

“The house would turn so silent without you.” A meek voice put in.

“Huh?” Eshaal turned to face her brother.

“I . . .” He struggled for words.

Say it, you fool.

“There would be no dramas or commotion in the house without you. Nothing of interest. Mama and Papa will miss having you around.”

“What about you?”

“I-I . . . uh . . .” he stuttered.

Admit that you would miss me, you dimwit.

“I would have no entertainment without you.”

“What?” Eshaal huffed in indignation. “Am I a source of entertainment for you? Fine then, I would be very happy to get away from you. I will never miss you. Better to be in a home where I am cherished than a place where I am considered a clown. Get away!” She struggled to free herself when her brother’s arms came around her. “I hate the sight of you.”

Her brother laughed, ruffling her hair. “I was just joking, lil one.”

“Joke? I don’t like to become the subject of joke for anyone, you dimwit.”

“What did you say?” he said angrily, almost sounding like a growl.

“Dimwit!” she yelled. “I called you a dimwit. A dimwit with a capital D. You are a dimwit.” She heaved herself up and tried running away after having provoked him, but Ibrahim was quick to catch her and twist her arm.

She yelped. “Let me go!”

“Tell me you are wrong. Apologise for calling me a dimwit.”

“Never.”

“Then be prepared to get your arm twisted even more.” He did what he told her.

She shrieked again. “Ow! I will see to that Tanvir breaks your bones, you dimwit!”

“How will you inform him to do that? Don’t tell me you both are secretly in contact.”

“No, you fool. I will tell him after a month when I could talk to him about everything under the sun.”

“Fool?” He twisted her arm even more.

“Yes, and I hate you. I will never miss you. You’re a jerk!”

“But I’d miss you,” he stated, freeing her.

She turned around. “Couldn’t you say that earlier? Idiot.” She clenched her hands into fists, punched him in his stomach, and screamed in pain right after. “My hand hurts.” She cradled her hand and shot daggers at him. “Are you not hurt at all?”

“Practice, lil one. I’m used to it.”

“Huh?” They looked at each other and let out a laugh, a wave of nostalgia passing over them.

“Tell me,” Eshaal demanded, “what were you doing before I came here?”

“Who? Me? I was just gazing at the stars.” His tone, however, wasn’t convincing enough.

“Don’t lie, big brother. You were gazing at the stars, that’s true, but your mind wasn’t registering them. You didn’t even realise my presence until I screamed. Do tell me who she is.”

Ibrahim’s eyes rounded in confusion. “She?”

“Yep. The ‘she’ who was in your thoughts.” She played coy. “The ‘she’ who has taken over your senses—about whom you were daydreaming. Oops, night dreaming. Who is she?” She nudged him with her shoulder.

“Me? Dreaming about a girl?” he chortled. “How can you even think like that? Didn’t know you’ve lost all your creative juices.”

Eshaal fought the desire to punch him again. “You looked like a lovestruck puppy, that’s why,” she shot back. “Are you sure that there is no girl on your mind? Tell me the truth, otherwise . . .” She faced the terrace entrance, brought her cupped hands to her mouth, and said, “Mama, bhai has a girl—”

He quickly closed her mouth and dragged her away from the entrance. “Eshaal! Stupid girl! There is no girl. Even if there was one, I would be man enough to go ask for her hand. I wouldn’t be sitting like this, daydreaming and doing nothing about it.”

She opened her mouth. “Or night dreaming,” he added, beating his sister to it.

Eshaal hummed. “That is goood.” There was mischief evident in her tone, and Ibrahim bristled. “What are you thinking, Eshaal?”

“Who? Me? Nothing. Nothing at all, bhai.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Eshaaal?”

“Okay, fine. You know my friends, right?”

“The ones with whom you run the tuition center?”

“Yup. Do you know how awesome they are?”

“Eshaal, should I be afraid of whatever you are planning?”

“No, not necessarily, bhai.” Eshaal beamed. “Do you know that they are so cool? Very intelligent. Charming, even. We are so close, almost like sisters, and I would really be happy if one among them becomes my sister for real. But oh—” She paused for a moment before her smile broadened, “Manha is getting married. Doesn’t matter. The other two are still available, but you’d really have to hurry up if you want one of them. Good girls are fast depleting on earth, you know. They won’t be there forever until you gather your senses.”

“Eshaal, for Allaah’s sake, marriage is the last thing on my mind right now! I can’t see myself getting married in the near future. Even if I did, I’m a hundred percent sure I wouldn’t be choosing from among your friends.”

Bewildered, Eshaal’s jaw dropped. “Why ever not?”

“Because they are your friends. That is exactly why! You have no idea how much you chew the brains of the people around you.” His hands lifted in exasperation. “One Eshaal is more than enough in my life. I don’t want a wife, too, who would eat my brains and torture me like you do. I want a worthy companion. Do you understand? I would prefer someone who could be my equivalent in every sense of word. Not someone like you or your friends—reckless and irritating. Definitely not my type.”

“That’s not true,” Eshaal defended, barely registering the fact that her brother had insulted her. “My friends are nothing like me. They are resilient, thoughtful, and silent. They are just . . . just perfect! How could you even think of them like that?”

Ibrahim guffawed. “Let it be, Eshaal. I cannot, for the life of me, think of your friends like that. Please don’t play matchmaker and disrupt my life. I have enough things running on my mind already.”

“See, this is what I’m telling you. You have to loosen up. One of my friends could just be the person for you.”

“How?” Ibrahim got up, dusting his pants.

“If they could bear my overbearing personality, then they can bear your big head too!”

“In that case, I’m really happy for now, and I don’t want a clingy wife demanding my attention.”

“How could you be so selfish, bhai? If not for me, think of Mama, would you? How will she cope when I leave? She should have someone to keep her company at least, right? Think of Papa too.”

“Eshaal, meri ma, please! Leave me be.”

“I’ve always wanted to go bride hunting for you, bhai. Please.” She pouted, hoping her brother would melt.

“No. Not happening. If you’re so intent on going bride hunting, find another groom.”

“I want you to be the groom.”

“Then stall your hunt for a few more years.” Ibrahim began walking towards the door that lead them back inside the house. “I will never become a victim of yours. And I mean, never.”

“Go, get lost by all means. Please! Just get lost. It’s your loss if you turn your back on me. You will come pleading to me one day, trust me. You will beg for my assistance to get a bhabhi, and I will take pleasure in telling all your embarrassing tales to her. Mark my words. Why, you can write them down too.”

“Your words are not so worthy to be written down, sis. Go threaten Tanvir. Maybe he will succumb, but I won’t,” Ibrahim called out before disappearing into the house.

Eshaal returned to gazing at the sky, frowning at what her brother had done. This was the same guy who had advised her to consider the proposal that came for her. He was the same one who had spoken at length about the virtues of getting married early and took great pains to see that everything went as per Sunnah. She chuckled to herself. All was right with Ibrahim when she was the subject of question; but, when the direction steered towards him, he had the audacity to run away. Maybe this was how boys were in general. Nothing, and absolutely nothing, was their cup of tea. According to their beliefs, none of the rules applied to them.

*         *         *

“Wants to play match maker!” Ibrahim huffed as he sped. “Never one of her friends. Never.” He entered his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

******