Make sure you play the above audio when you come to the latter half of the update. Replay it until you end the chapter. I'd recommend some 'alone' effects to feel the desired emotions 😉 And also leave a lottt of comments for the longg update that I've written! I'm eagerly waiting to know what's going on inside you all.

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And your Lord says, "Call upon Me; I will respond to you."

[ Al Ghafir : 60 ]

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When Ibrahim returned home after his fajr salaah and short Sunday morning khutbah, he was planning on silently creeping up to his room and going back to sleep without disturbing anyone else. Stifling a yawn, he was only just climbing up the stairs when he realised that someone was already up and working in the kitchen. His nose twitched at the smell that permeated in the air and he sleepily stared in the direction of the kitchen before deciding on investigating it.

Upon his entrance, Eshaal who was tidying the place looked up to smile and greet him. He wished her back, his eyes roving over the translucent boxes that were placed on the kitchen counter and the oven that was switched on and all the ingredients that were spread out.

"I thought Sunday was the day when us men cooked at home."

"Oh, it still is the tradition in the Moideen household", Eshaal rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, I didn't cook. I only baked and that too, not for you."

Ibrahim brought his fist to his head dramatically. "Did I let you live for this day? I should have killed you when I had the chance."

Enraged, Eshaal threw a knife sheath which he easily caught before it hit him. "Sheesh woman! Are you removing your frustration on me because your punching bag has gone outstation?"

This time Eshaal launched an empty bottle at him. "I knew it! I knew it that you would grow to become violent. Mama and papa should have listened to me and abandoned you years ago."

Eshaal cast him a boring look, returning to what she was doing before he entered.

After a few futile attempts at trying to provoke her even more, he laughed. "Okay fine! Who are these for? They smell divine!" He attempted to take a chocolate muffin from one of the boxes and Eshaal swatted his hands away.

"I'm visiting the kids who my friend teaches."

"Huh?"

"Don't you remember the friend I told you about, the one who teaches at this school for the orphans?"

Ibrahim still had a blank look on his face and Eshaal groaned scratching her forehead. "Where is your head whenever I speak to you?"

He grinned. "Um I'm physically present, mentally absent."

She punched him on the arm irritatedly. "Idiot!"

"Thank you your majesty."

"Dumbo. Urgh."

"Fine!" He sobered. "Tell me what you were saying earlier, I'm listening now." He conveniently sneaked a muffin when his sister wasn't looking and bit into it before she could take it back.

"You should listen more whenever I speak you know. If you had, you wouldn't have embarrased my friend like that the other day. You know she-"

He started choking on the muffin and his sister hurriedly produced a glass of water for him to drink from, hitting him on his back at the chance she had. "This is why they say you are supposed to listen to people younger than you. Had you not had what I made for the kids, you wouldn't be choking and had you listened to whatever I speak, you would know which friend I'm talking about."

Ibrahim's breath evened, glad about the change of topic. "So you are going to meet these kids today?", he questioned as he kept the glass away.

"Yup."

"Leave Taskeen with me when you leave for the place. I'd look after her."

"Not happening."

"Why?" He whined.

"Because you're coming with us. Now before you deny, let me have you know that I need someone to help me with Taskeen and these big boxes. Also, Tanvir left his car behind for me to use but how am I supposed to drive when I don't even know how to? You, my dear brother are going to be my chauffeur today." Eshaal grinned evilly on seeing her brother's face contort with displeasure. "Come on! Be useful to me at least for once."

Tons of persuasion and hours later, they were on their way to the school when he finally popped the question. "What's this friends name by the way?"

Eshaal smiled at him from the passenger seat, attempting to calm an energetic Taskeen. "Zahra. We were four remember? Eshaal, Manha, Rida, Zahra."

"So she is the one who left the centre?"

"Yes, she is the one." Eshaal bit her lip. "Though none of us blame her for that. She chose what her heart wanted and we are happy for her. Things did get a bit rough when both Manha and I fell pregnant but we quickly hired staff to control the situation."

Ibrahim hummed, turning his attention back on the road. When they swerved around the corner and the gate came into view, he looked at his sister for confirmation. "This one right?"

"Yess!" Eshaal had started radiating energy all of a sudden making Ibrahim smile at her with fondness. Despite having a kid herself, he could still see the kid in his sister every now and then and it made him feel nostalgic to see her that way. It even took him back to their childhood.

When they drove along the driveway and towards the car park, he was able to see kids playing on the playground. They were so immersed in the game that was ongoing that very few heads turned around to see a car entering their campus.

He hadn't even exited the car when an elderly lady appeared, hugging Eshaal and gushing over Taskeen. His niece seemed to be enjoying all the attention, he realised as he crossed the distance between them, his arms laid with boxes that Eshaal had brought along.

Eshaal introduced the lady as Waseema aunty, apparently the person Zahra had met before deciding on joining here. On seeing him she flashed a smile so tender and laid with so much warmth that it reminded him of his dead grandmother. "Assalamu alaikum warahmathullahi wabarakatuh!" He beamed.

"Wa alaikum assalam warahmathullahi wabarakatuh! Lower the boxes dear. This old, short lady here isn't even able to see your face past all these boxes."

Ibrahim laughed, lowering them and listened to her lightly chastising Eshaal for having brought these many boxes along.

"It's nothing aunty." Eshaal waved her off. "I just wanted to cook something for them."

Soon enough Ibrahim found himself seated inside the dining block as the lady sent for Eshaal's friend. Not even a minute had passed when the girl in question rushed in with a little girl in tow. "Sorry aunty, I was-"

Her smile faltered upon seeing him and he immediately cast his eyes down, adrenaline rushing into his veins and blood gushing to his ears.

So it's her!

Eshaal jumped from her seat to go hug her friend and the two laughed, whispering softly to themselves and later drifting into an animated chatter.

"So what is that you do dear?"

Ibrahim looked up at Waseema aunty, feeling grateful towards her for making things less awkward for him. "Ji I'm an accountant aunty."

"Masha'Allah! You don't look like one. I mean most of them are balding and developing a paunch."

Ibrahim laughed. "Well, most."

"My brother was one too, and he dutifully fit into an ideal accountant's description." She smiled a pained smile but quickly recovered. "And Eshaal is your younger sister, yes?"

They made polite, small talk for a while until Taskeen started showing signs of becoming restless and irritated. He took her in his arms and walked out, trying to distract her. Standing at the entrance of the block, he was rocking her up and down in order to calm her when he noticed that the kids after having finished their game were walking in their direction. One of the kids first noticed the baby he held in his arms and then another and another, and within minutes, they had all crowded around him trying to play with Taskeen. She in turn was squealing and jumping, attempting to climb him as if he were a tree.

There was something about the atmosphere and the beaming faces of the kids that calmed his heart and filled it with peace. He knelt down on one of his knee, letting them play with his niece and ask him the questions that they wanted.

"Is she your daughter?"

"How come you've never come here before?"

"What do you do?"

"What should I do to become tall like you?"

"Do you know how to play football?"

"Can you teach me how to grow a beard?"

"So you're Eshaal aunty's brother?"

Realising that the questioning spree wouldn't be ending anytime soon, he made himself comfortable on the stairs and answered their questions patiently, smiling and pinching their cheeks.

He was half way through answering one of their questions when a shout was heard. He lifted his head to see Zahra standing at the entrance. "You were supposed to be inside ten minutes ago. Get inside kids. Right now."

The kids who had swarmed around him like bees disappeared within a matter of seconds and he had to control the urge to laugh. Their teacher didn't look like someone who could handle so many kids and yet, all she had to do to settle them was just call out to them.

He made his way into the building and stood watching as all the kids collected their glasses of milk from Zahra and then went on to collect a muffin each. He watched as they all settled on their large dining table without fussing, silently chewing and drinking. He watched as she flitted from one kid to the next. The more he watched, the more he realised that the girl was very efficient in managing them all. They truly seemed to adore her and he was very much taken by the scene ahead.

Waseema called out to him to come have tea and he obliged, his eyes still straying towards the kids and what they did around their teacher. He picked up his tea cup and brought it to his mouth when he heared a hiss. His eyes lifted again to see Zahra standing at the table, one hand on another. By the looks of it, she seemed to have poured hot milk on her hand. As an impulse, he almost got up to go help her. He almost set the tea cup down. Almost, but then, he recovered quickly when so many kids exclaimed and ran to her to help. He shook his head and averted his eyes, completely oblivious of the fact that another pair of eyes had seen it all.

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He unlocked the door that opened to the terrace and slipped out into the dark, welcoming the silence that enveloped the city and the darkness that had spread his wings once the sun had taken its leave for the day.

The wind lapped at his hair, messing it and he shut his eyes for a minute, trying to mute the thoughts that were screaming in his head all this while. As he stood there drenching in the silence of the city that went wild during the day, his heart thrummed, its beats resonating in his ears. Occasionally, he could hear a vehicle or two driving past the highway that was a few hundred metres from his house but most of all, it was silent. The night was silent, deadly silent in contrast to the mess that he was at the moment. Chaos had ensued in his mind due to the multiple thoughts that were being repeatedly thrown around in his head, thoughts that confused him to no end, left him feeling agitated and frustrated all the same.

Ibrahim let out a prolonged sigh and opened his eyes, finding that the scene ahead was no different to what he was used to, especially at this part of the night when the bustling city took a pause and went dead, only to come alive even more ferociously the next day.

He took slow steps and stood facing his street. It was lit with several street lamps at regular intervals, giving off a soft golden halo, just enough to provide light for those who might want to walk across the street at night. Another breeze blew and this time, the tree right next to his house moved, obscuring his view of a major chunk of his street.

Ibrahim looked on as another wave of frustration hit him, clenching his teeth and losing to the heaviness that settled around his shoulders. Finding no other way to vent it, he sank down on his knees, his eyes travelling to the twinkling celestial bodies that spread across the night sky, evidence of what had existed there four light years ago.

For a few moments, he just sat there pondering on all that He (swt) had created, reflecting on how all the creations of Allaah (swt) fell into a perfect sync; all the human beings who had existed right from the time 'time' came into existence, the innumerable organisms that occupied space on earth, some of which were not even known to man, all the elements of the Unseen world, both dangerous and pleasant, and the numerous vast galaxies that spanned for billions of light years altogether; Allaah (swt) creating His Arsh first, followed by His pen, water, angels and His tablet; the creation of Adam AS and from him, the creation of his wife to keep him company; the kibr of Azazil, a jinn whose status rivalled that of a pious, knowledgeable angel causing him to rebel and turn into the most despised Iblis; the accursed vowing to mislead humans and tempting Adam and Hawa AS into eating the forbidden fruit; Allaah exiling those two from Heaven until the time of their death, promising heaven for them and for those of their descendants who would pass their set of trials on earth; Adam and Hawa AS being thrown onto the earth, each landing on different places; them finding each other after a long search and later, settling down, having children of their own who in turn had children of their own.

The earth had seen countless of years since then. It had seen numerous prophets and messengers; tyrants and wars and pompous people who had been destroyed. After the lives of so many people being unfolded into something that would serve as a lesson to the ones who would be born after them, here they were - as humans, as Muslims and as the Ummah of the greatest Prophet to have ever existed on planet earth, automatically becoming the blessed of the most blessed per se. Zooming out of it all, everything, almost everything fell into perfect sync - each action, every decision, each reward, every punishment, every single happening. He felt small and insignificant as he looked up at the sky.

Despite the clouds trying to hide them, the stars twinkled as he looked up at them, and He fell even more in love with the One who had created them all.

Overwhelmed by emotions, he uttered a praise for his Lord and went down in his sujood, channeling all his love into gratitude. His throat constricted and he let out a sob, the lacrymal apparatus of his eyes setting into immediate action.

"I have no idea where my life is headed ya Allaah!" He admitted weakly. "No clue whatsoever of what I'm supposed to do next. I'm totally unaware of the things that await me, completely oblivious in regard to the happenings that would take place in my life that spans ahead. My status as a mere human being limits my abilities in so many things ya Allaah. It does not allow me to have any knowledge of the ghaib... except for what You have Willed for us to know. The words of my destiny formed by Your Ink on the pages of Your Book are in no way open to me." He sniffed. "What would I do to have a glimpse of it ya Allah!" His eyelashes having borne the weight of his tears finally gave away and his tears gently slid down his nose and forehead and wet his terrace floor.

"It's not that I do not trust You Lord. I trust You, I trust You more than I trust anyone else but I am a human being at the end of the day, one whose rationality is more often than not defeated by his emotions. I'm a human who tends to lean a tad more towards his heart than his brain. I sometimes tend to be very unreasonable and impulsive - that I'm in no position to deny. I get confused and frustrated and very much impatient but I implore You ya Allaah. I beg of You. Grant me sabr. Grant me the ability to do good, to do what pleases You. Give me the wisdom to stay away from the prohibited that would incur me your wrath. Grant me the wisdom to choose wisely and to take wise steps in order to make my future.

"My future ya Allaah!" He smiled tearfully. "Sometimes it seems so bleak and uncertain but to You alone do I complain of my insignificance and insufficient abilities. To You alone do I beseech for help. All those who know me, know me as the tough guy who shields everyone." A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "But to You alone do I show my weakness. To you alone do I show that I am as vulnerable as them. I'm very much human Lord, a weak one at that. I have all the qualities of one. I show the world my tough exterior, but You know the stuff that I am made of. You know it all Lord. I do not have to word it out to You. The Creator knows His creations best.

"You know of my worries and burdens and problems. You are aware of the thoughts that haunt me. I am close to nearing the big three and zero number and the knowledge of it doesn't make my life any better. I am painfully aware of my increasing age. Less than two years for me to go off the marriage mart." He laughed without any humour. "Most guys my age are already married and some are even having kids, while I'm stuck here still searching for her. Sometimes I think I'm raising my standards too high ya Allaah and soon after, I feel like I'm the biggest joke of the century. I hardly have anything on my list. Hardly! I am a simple man with simple needs. I need a simple woman who would want me for me, not for some idiotic bigoted standards. I do not want a woman or a an extended family who would think of my parents as a baggage.

He swallowed. "In a way I understand why my parents did what they did with that Hameed uncle's issue. They wanted me married and happy, even though they wanted it in a twisted sort of way. I repect their wishes to see me happy but it also makes me feel sad that they thought me capable of doing that - capable of leaving them and walking away, now especially at a stage in their lives when they need more attention than ever. How could they think so little of me? Strangely, more than it irritates me, it makes me want to be an even better version of myself and prove it to them the kind of son I can be.

"Sometimes I think they did it because they could see the yearning in my eyes, the yearning to have a companion and children." At the mention of the last word he let out a shaky breath. "Children. Oh I so love that kid as my own ya Allaah. You know it better than I do. The mere sight of her infuses such joy in me, I cannot even begin to explain it in words. I love her so much and she loves me too, but when everything is said and done, she is someone else's kid. The other day, she was playing with me when her father walked in. She jumped from my arms to go to him and it made my heart bleed a little. She is a kid and I know she doesn't know what she is doing but the way her eyes lit up and the way she wrapped her little arms around him, I felt a tug at my heart ya Allaah. I need one of my own too.

"Maybe I am asking too much Lord. I don't know, I felt that way today when I saw all of those innocent faces beaming at me. Here I am wanting kids and there they are - orphaned and cast away by relatives or left there by single struggling mothers. And then there is this girl...

"I don't know what exactly sparked my interest in her ya Allaah. I think it has something to do with her connection with You and even with her connection with those kids, but would it be wise on my part to make a move? Would she even want someone like me? What would her family have to say? Would they think like the rest of them too?

"She is just my kid sister's friend ya Allaah. I cannot even try to find out more about her without being teased and teased and teased by Eshaal. What do I do? Should I go ahead? Should I even do it? I'm lost ya Allaah. Show me what to do and help me do it right, and if You have something else in store for me, then give me the strength to navigate through it all.

"I trust whatever you have written for me ya Allaah simply because it was written by You. I know you would never give me any pain or burden beyond my capacity but I need your help Lord. Help me. Give me the strength and sabr and firm faith to remain firm as you work on me. You are my only Hope ya Allaah. Please help me."

His head on the ground, his tears streamed as his prayers left his lips in succession, one of them reached the surface of the ground, while the other travelled up to the Lord above.

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Glossary:

💦fajr salaah : pre-dawn prayer.

💦khutbah : sermon.

💦kibr : pride.

💦ji : a term of respect.

💦Iblis : satan.

💦sujood : prostation.

💦sabr : patience.

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Back at it!

🎯 Do you like the relation between these sibling? Like how much? What is it that makes you like them?

🎯 I've still not decided on their ship names. Have any in mind?

🎯 The hesitation around each other is like... how much would you rate it on ten?

🎯 Favourite part?

🎯 Favourite line in the prayer?

🎯 How did you find the prayer to be?

🎯 There is one line in this prayer that was recorded to be told by a special person. Point out which sentence it is and who told it for you to receive a star and virtual hug from me 😉

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Assalamu alaikum warahmathullahi wabarakatuhu!