Juwairiyah (radhi Allaahu anha) reported that one day the Prophet, peace be upon him, left her apartment in the morning as she was busy observing her dawn prayer in her place of worship. He came back in the forenoon and she was still sitting there. The Prophet, peace be upon him, said to her, “You have been in the same place since I left you?” She said, “Yes.” Thereupon the Prophet, peace be upon him, said, “I recited four words three times after I left you and if these were to be weighed against what you have recited since morning these would outweigh them, and these words are:

سُبْحـانَ اللهِ وَبِحَمْـدِهِ عَدَدَ خَلْـقِه ، وَرِضـا نَفْسِـه ، وَزِنَـةَ عَـرْشِـه ، وَمِـدادَ كَلِمـاتِـه

Subhaanallaahi wa bihamdihi: ‘Adada khalqihi wa ridhaa nafsihi, wa zinata ‘arshihi wa midaada kalimaatihi.

Glory is to Allaah and praise is to Him, by the multitude of his creation, by His Pleasure, by the weight of His Throne, and by the extent of His Words (Recite 3 times in Arabic)

Muslim 4/2090

(Ps, It's such a short dua which has immense rewards. You can easily memorise it and read after fajr and Asr prayer, all the way can get rewards as if you have worshipped for six continuous hours.)

Bismillah hir Rahman nir Raheem.

Jesima twisted and turned in her bed, putting all her effort to avoid the noise which was cajoling her out of her sleep and to open her eyes. The numbness in her brain fogged her wishful thinking and slumber seemed more appealing than to wake up and welcome the morning light.

Aashiq gingerly patted her shoulder one more time. "Jesima, wake up."

Jesima turned towards the other side. 

"Jesima," Aashiq spoke again. "If you don't wake up in time, you'll miss Fajr."

Jesima, in less than a second, was in an upright position on her bed hearing that, her system still in the stages of the initial shock. "What?"

"If we don't pray Fajr in the next ten minutes, consider the prayer missed."

Jesima looked away from him and rubbed her eyes to clear the blackness the surrounded her vision. "And you didn't go to the masjid?"

"I overslept." Aashiq climbed down from her bed. His grey sweatpants were the first thing she laid her eyes on that morning, and they traveled up to his black hoodie, then to his face and at last to the wet strands of his hair that fell over his forehead. Aashiq quickly jogged towards the door and in a blink of an eye, was gone. 

How does he manage to take a bath as soon as he wakes up?

When the question fogged her mind, she shook her head. Untangling herself from the mess of blankets, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the attached bathroom to perform her wudhu.

Jesima said the salam and finished the two units of the sunnah prayer before the fardh and muttered the du'a that was to be recited after prayer. She was about to get on her feet to pray the rest of the two units of fardh when she spotted Aashiq's smiling face peeking through her door.

"What?"

"Can we pray in the congregation?" He grinned sheepishly.

She nodded as a reply and he entered her room with a small smile grazing his lips. It was what she liked the most about him—he tried his best to pray at the masjid but whenever he missed the chance, he lead her in prayer at home making her stand beside him in front of their Lord. The moment never failed to lay a blanket of tranquility and serenity to delve into her soul.

It was perfect. 

Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, molded-in entirely distinct way, who grew up in two diverse societies were brought together in life. And despite all of their differences, they fit together in the most astounding of ways, with the fluttering of their hearts as a witness. 

It was only when they stood together in prayer that they both felt the crux of it. How beautiful the Lord Above had written their relationship, how flawlessly they were made for each other, and how marvelously was the journey of their relationship planned. 

Standing before Allah was when they felt the magnanimity of the truth that welded them together. One, that many like them failed to understand. The majority of them chartered the act of worshipping together as baseless logic, overruling its importance and that's where they went wrong.

Marriage wasn't always supposed to be about fulfilling the other's needs and creating a family. Marriage completed half of the deen of a girl and a boy respectively, and the other half could only be completed by worshiping Allah together, in each other's embrace, lending a hand to the one who is weak in matters of their deen and indulging in worship along with each other. That was how the true aim of marriage was fulfilled.

Jesima moved to the right, clearing space for Aashiq to stand on the musallah that she had spread on the wooden floor of her room. Aashiq commenced the prayer with 'Allahu Akbar', loud and audible and she followed on cue.

The prayer was short. Throughout it, however, Jesima couldn't stop herself from feeling peace envelop her in its arms. When Aashiq finished the salah, they sat in comfortable silence reading tasbih with their fingers, counting on a steady motion. Ever so slowly, Jesima leaned into his shoulder and his lip twitched upwards, his dimples appearing in view.

Surprisingly, her heartbeat didn't spike at all, and that's when the realization hit her. Somehow, from a visitor who wasn't invited, Aashiq knocked on the door of her heart, and when she opened it wide, he occupied the residence permanently. Her small liking had grown something big in these days she had spent with him.

He gave her a separate room, space, time, freedom—plus everything she hadn't voiced out loud, with a little bit of his own love. 

And in the end, that love found a home in her heart.

The thought of letting him go was too fearful for her, and even the word like' was insufficient to describe how she felt for him. She couldn't give him up for anything in this world. She was indifferent to her own self these days, all she cared about was him.

She moved her head away from his shoulder, retracting herself from the heat of his body. She looked up to meet his green eyes, her heart in her throat. Aashiq furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

She wanted to hug him, kiss him, and be close to him, and in the meantime, close the distance that bound them. The same distance which made them appear far away from one another no matter how near they were. However, she wondered if it was wrong of her to think like that. Just the mere idea led her eyes to glint with moisture.

"Jesima." Aashiq placed his palm over her cheek, warming her skin. The couple locked gazes.

The ringing of the doorbell broke them both out of their trance. Jesima looked away and Aashiq turned towards the direction of the voice. The bell rang again, causing Aashiq to begrudgingly get on his feet, all the while keeping his gaze trained on Jesima's face. The worry lines on his forehead gave away his concern. He stormed out of the room before the bell rang for the third time, wondering who exactly would visit them this early in the morning. Even the house workers would arrive after seven.

Jesima folded her prayer mat and placed it over the edge of her bed, all the while calming her breathing. She couldn't fathom when and how but she had truthfully so had fallen for her husband. And the most astonishing thing was—she didn't even need a reason to do so.

Still wrapped up in her khimaar, she walked out of her room towards the staircase and took careful steps in order not to trip on the glass stairs. Through the hallway of the kitchen, she saw Aashiq with his arms around someone, hugging them. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she made her way up to the living room.

In the threshold stood Anjum, Aashiq's sister.

"Assalamu alaikum, Anjum," Jesima greeted, jogging towards her sister in law and pulling her into a hug with a huge grin appearing on her lips. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Wa alaikum assalam, Jess." Anjum pulled away. "How are you?"

Jesima stepped back to give her space. "Alhamdulilah, I'm good." 

When she felt someone's gaze on her, she turned to Aashiq and silently nodded, letting him know that she was doing good.

The confession of love, her heart had whispered to her mind was what had caused her to lower her guard before him just mere minutes before.

He let out a breath of relief and stepped beside her, slipping his hand through her waist and pulling her close. She looked up again at him in surprise. 

"It's Anjum," he whispered.

Jesima soon caught on to what he meant—his sister didn't know they were still in the phase of getting to know each other, unlike other couples. Yet, Jesima knew he was secretly enjoying his closeness to her and deep in her heart, she did rejoice to have him close.

Anjum got up after pulling her slippers. "When are you planning to invite me in?"

Aashiq laughed out loud and Jesima blushed and then, they both led Anjum inside. 

"I'm just going to pray my fardh to not miss Fajr as I was on my way." Anjum walked past them.

"Do you want me to show where your room is?"

"Bhai, for your kind information, I am not a patient of amnesia. I remember where it is." Anjum shook her head. "We'll share the pleasantries later."

Jesima laughed at Aashiq's dumbfound expression and strolled back to her room. She was making her bed when she caught Aashiq entering through her open bedroom door, running a hand through his hair.

"May I know what you're doing here?"

"Jesima. It's Anjum." He started the obvious.

"Oh, okay."

Aashiq sat on the made-up bed and pulled his phone out of his pant pocket. 

Jesima looked at him. "I'm going to have a shower."

She didn't wait for him to reply and entered her ensuite bathroom. She quickly took a bath and pulled her bathrobe through her arms and tied the knot in the middle. She took the towel and wrapped it over her head. 

The thought that Aashiq was sitting in her room hit her just as she was about to open the door of the bathroom. She turned towards the mirror. She looked appealing but she has clad in not so appealing clothes. Her bathrobe reached only till her knees. She bit her bottom lip, anxiousness bubbling up in her stomach.

She slightly opened the door and Aashiq looked up from his phone at her peeking face. 

"What?" he chuckled.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Aashiq, I told you to close your eyes."

"Why? Do you not have any clothes on?" he asked, laughing at her horrific expression.

"Perv," she grunted. "Stop overthinking and do what I ask you to do. Close your eyes."

"You know, I have the right to see."

"Ew, seriously?" By now, Jesima had turned red.

He laughed more at the sight of her face and finally did what he was told to do. "Okay. My eyes are all closed."

Jesima quickly ran towards the walk-in closet all the while scolding herself for forgetting to bring clothes to the bathroom. She walked out with her casual clothes on to see Aashiq's face still lined with amusement, causing her to roll her eyes.

She walked towards her dressing table and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her fingers lingered over the hairdryer, thinking of the circumstances that would take place once she switched it on. Her hair would fly like a seagull and she would surely end up embarrassing herself more in front of him. She shook her head and took hold of her moisturizer and started applying it over her arms.

"Are you planning to sit and watch me get ready?"

"Why not? It's amusing and—" Aashiq racked his brain for a suitable word. "-- time passing."

"What did you say?"

Aashiq's face held clear amusement and he remained quiet. 

"I don't take a lot of time getting ready."

"No, you just took a forty-five-minute shower, and trust me, it was so short it kept me wondering whether you even scrubbed yourself."

"Aashiq," she whirled around absolutely horrified, and seeing her reaction, he burst into laughter.

Jesima gritted her teeth and turned her attention back to the mirror.

This is enough humiliation.

"Don't you want to get ready for yourself?"

"Nope. Unlike you, it only takes me two minutes"

"Okay. I agree, I take time to get ready, you don't have to rub it in my face every single chance you get." Jesima huffed. "And what are you, Maggie to get ready in two minutes? Even the noodles take time"

Aashiq looked up at the ceiling.

Aashiq—Dear Author, don't embarrass me in front of my readers who love me for real.

Sadist Author—So, let's change the scene back to romance. Come on, quick, Aashiq. Practice your stance.

*Aashiq turns towards all the readers, running a hand through his hair, he then trims his beard and finally winks*

Sadist Author—Aashiq, they call you Bhaijaan.

Aashiq *blushes*—Oh?

Sadist Author—Yes.

Aashiq—Then parcel each of my reader's a ton of chocolates. Don't worry about the money, my bank balance is full.

Sadist Author—Sorry, Aashiq. I'm busy cooking lunch, I can't act as the delivery guy.

Aashiq—Then send Ahmed to deliver the treats. He is unrequited at the moment, I am sure everyone would love me at the ending.

Sadist Author—Sounds like a plan. Get ready, the pen has started rolling.

Ready?

1... 
2... 
3...

Action.

"Where have you lost?" Jesima asked, pausing the movements of her hands and folding them over her chest.

"Talking to the one who is writing this scene".

" __Miss_Fantasy__?"

"Yes."

"Please tell her she's only alive because she hasn't crossed my path yet."

"Astaghfirullah," Aashiq chuckled. "She is our author."

"Author?" Jesima narrowed her eyes. "She's the most sadist writer I've ever seen."

"Why do you say so?"

"First, tell me what scene she asked you to change instead of the old one."

"Romance of course," Aashiq grinned.

"I doubt she even rests before ruining it," she huffed.

For a moment, Aashiq blinked. He then got up from his seat and stood straight. He clutched his stomach and burst into another fit of laughter that day and this time, Jesima gave in and joined with him.

"Omg! This conversation was hilarious to be true", he mumbled in between, trekking his legs to reach near the dresser where she stood.

" I know right?".

He stood two feet away from her, locking gaze, laughter subsiding. "Did you mean that you enjoyed our time together which our Author ruined?".

" Who wouldn't, Aashiq", she bit her bottom lip as he took a step forward.

"Ahaan".

She fell quiet and goosebumps grazed her moisturized arms when his hand slipped through the crook of her hip, grabbing her waist in the process. Her palm lifted and placed itself over his chest to steady herself and to stand straight.

Aashiq traced his long and tender fingers over her wet hair and pushed them from obscuring the view of his beloved wife's face. Jesima's skin color rose to a shade of pink and she felt fire begin to burn inside her cheeks. She so badly wanted to not smile but miserably failed.

Aashiq's lips grazed over her forehead and her breathing sucked in her throat when they finally touched her forehead and he placed a small feather-light kiss there. 

" Oh! No, no, no", came Anjum's voice making them jolt up and leave each others embrace.

"This was bound to happen", Jesima muttered under her heavy breathing and glanced up, making Aashiq slightly chuckle and forget being caught romancing with his wife by his sister.

Anjum furrowed her eyebrows. " I am sorry, I didn't know you both were here, Bhai", she addressed her brother and faced him, "I thought your room was downstairs. I knocked three times and opened it to find no one there. What are you both doing here?".

Jemima and Aashiq blinked at the obliviousness of Anjum and her confusion, barely registering that Anjum didn't know they lived on the same roof but in two different rooms.

Something caught in Anjum's eyes. " Don't tell me what I am already thinking is true?".

"What are you thinking?". Aashiq blinked puzzled.

" That you both came here to hide from me and the rest was history which I just saw--". "Yes", The couple in question replied at once and their reaction turned bitter, and a blush crept through their faces. " What? No". They replied in unison, their skins turning into a gross expression.

"Okay! That's so cajoling to believe". Anjum awkwardly fumbled with her footing.

" I think I should go give the menu for the breakfast", Aashiq stomped out of the room.

Jemima bit her bottom lip, the air around them was filled with nothing but newfound awkwardness. "You know--, it's- not what you-- think it -- is", she stuttered for the first time in her life.

" Then what it is, is", Anjum giggled. "Relax, it's okay even though it's gross", she made a face.

...

" Anjum, How long is your stay?". Aashiq asked taking a sip from the glass of water.

"Wah! Bhai. Already wanting my leave?".

" You know it's not what I meant".

"Be happy, Bhai. I came for a night's stay, will leave tomorrow".

" Why?", Jesima interjected.

"My internship is going to start this weekend", Anjum took a large bite of the Nutella sandwich. " And, I learned that Bhai cooks food. How can I wait to taste how it tastes?".

"You came all the way to make me cook". Aashiq coughed in between his bites.

" Exactly, no. I came here to paint your hair purple sticking to my initial plan with Jesima. But looking at your innocent face, I dropped it".

Aashiq's horrified face was epic and his reaction made Jesima stop eating and instead she focused on subsiding the deep laughs that erupted from her chest.

"You dropped the plan for sure right?", Aashiq asked after a bit of silence, his face holding fear.

" Bhai", Anjum cackled," Breath, I am not going to do anything to your hair unless you cook me something, or else I won't guarantee you".

"I would give you a treat of all the recipes I know of, Anjum. You can trust me in that".

They then fell in pace after that, silently eating their breakfast. Aashiq then cut a small bite off of his waffle with his knife, poked it with his fork,  leading it towards Jesima. 

Jemima looked surprised. " It's Anjum", he whispered so that she would only hear. She gave in, taking the bite and chewing it down.

" You know, you can stay longer".

"Are you both blind"? Anjum paused eating, " This place is contaminated with love. It's better to stay away to avoid infection".

"Seriously, Anjum?". They all shared a hearty laugh.

....

Jesima with her pristine green operating scrubs on entered the operation theatre with Samra on the toe. Samra viewed the patient's recent history while Jesima guided the staff to fold the drapery to show the view of the patient's prominent belly and asked them to apply a disinfectant solution over the niche.

Samra wore back her mask and stood on the opposite side of Jesima and nodded her head to let her friend know that they can start the procedure. Even though Jesima was wearing a mask, a smile was etched through her lips which reached her eyes. Samra quirked her eyes as she looked down from Jesima's never leaving smile to the unconscious patient.

Jesima made a lower horizontal incision of the skin, exposing the subcutaneous fat and muscles that outlined the uterus which Samra retracted with her retractors and handed to the other staff to hold on all the four directions to have the perfect view of the uterus. Jesima then made a similar incision on the uterine wall and in response, the amniotic fluid gushed out from the sac. Jesima took hold of the baby and gingerly took out of the womb and clamped and cut the umbilical cord, handing over to Samra with the same smile on. 

Samra used suction bulbs to remove secretion from the mouth and nasal passages, the only audible sound that filled the room was the newborn's cries.

They both carried the rest of the procedure to stitch the cut area, one helping the other in utter silence. 

It was when they were out of the OT into their staff lunge, Samra pointed out. " Is someone in a good mood today?".

"Why do you ask?", Jesima replied coming out of her dreamy state.

" There is this smile which never left your lips since morning".

"Oh!", Jesima's hand lifted to her lips. " My sister in law has come".

The exact moment Rafa took a seat. "I think you are the first girl who is genuinely happy with the arrival of a sister in law".

Jesima rolled her eyes at Rafa's nonchalance, nevertheless, agreed to the point. Not many of the women get happy when their sister in law's visit but Anjum was different, though she was out straight when she talks, deep in her heart, she is such a nice character. Just like her brother, Aashiq.

And, her arrival made them even more attached. Before, they lived like strangers. Now, when they did things like normal couples did make her feel elated.

Initially, they felt awkward and stayed rooted in the same spot because they feared if they took even a step further, they wouldn't be the same. Like for example, they got so used to having separate rooms for each other that they forgot they could share a room.

" Earth to Jesima", Rafa waved her hand for Jesima to come out of her daydream.

....

Jesima climbed down from the stool after hanging the last of the small string of decorative lights and thanked Anjum for giving her hand to help her climb down. Then they both moved towards the three-seater table to arrange the other snacks and sauces for the barbecue night. She looked up at Aashiq who was slicing the tomatoes and lettuce leaves from the glass doors.

He looked too focused but she wouldn't disagree if an onlooker remarked him as 'cute'. As if realizing her stare, he turned towards her and his lips immediately twitched up.

Anjum checked the propane cans to whether they have enough gasoline to run down the grill and Jesima eyed the charcoal, for she didn't know even the basics when it came to cooking.

Aashiq walked out of the door with all the marinated meat, burger patties, and veggies in a trolley.

"It's Yum", Anjum rejoiced once she put a mouthful of barbecued chicken and when Jesima took a bite from the sizzling hot chicken, her mouth turned to a grin and she nodded at Aashiq, approvingly.

" Cook, some grilled potatoes please?". 

"I am not your cook, Anjum".

" Bhai, at least agree tonight that you are my cook, or did you forget about the coloring of hair into purple?".

Aashiq rolled his eyes at his quirky sister. The rest of the evening was so blissful with mouth-watering dishes, hearty laughs, belittling comments, lovable looks, and finally, with creating memories to cherish for a lifetime.

Jesima helped Aashiq to clean the last of the dishes while Anjum turned off the lights after placing all the dishes on their designated racks. That's another thing she liked in Aashiq's family, they don't expect others to do their chores and preferred doing it themselves in order not to burden the other. 

Jesima followed Aashiq to his room and he looked at her, surprised.

"What are you doing here?".

" Aashiq. It's Anjum". Jesima's eyes glinted with mirth. "I am tired to the core", she popped on the right side of his bed.

When she opened one eye to see Aashiq's reaction, she saw him walk up to the door and close it, turning towards the mirror and dancing a victory dance. An involuntary smile stretched her lips for the hundredth time that day.

She quickly closed her eyes before he noticed. Aashiq went towards her side, switched off the lamp, and pulled the comforter over her. 

It's when the lights on his side were turned off, the bed dipping to let her know that he had laid down, Jesima slowly turned. She was faced with Aashiq's back, his face turned towards the right side of his figure, following the rulings of the sunnah. She moved furthermore towards him and put her hand over his shoulder.

Aashiq turned to her direction, his green eyes shining star-like. His fingers tucked the hair strands which escaped her ponytail to secure behind her ear. They locked gaze and Aashiq broke the contact only to place a small kiss for the second time on her forehead. Jesima was beaming with glee, joy, and all forms of happiness that existed. Her happiness only laid beside him, she just acknowledged it late.

She again turned towards the other direction to calm her breathing, for the contact was so enchanting that it took her breath away. Aashiq's hand slipped through her waist and he pulled her towards him.

His face settled on the crook of her neck. " Sleep". He ushered her just like the incident on the treehouse, a few months back.

And she silently obeyed, letting slumber to kidnap her for the night.

***

How was the chapter?

What is your favorite scene so far?