Let it go.

Pain. Hurt. Sorrow. The feeling that it's unfair...

Right now, what is more important?

After following the urges of the self, what becomes the aftermath?

Is there any sense of fulfilment?

No, it's rather pain and, -
hurt all over again.

What Hilya had written in her diary, the words continuously flowed into Arkaan's soul, as if talking to him.

He didn't know whether it was a coincidence for him to have read those parts of the diary before this event. Whatever it was, he was grateful to Allah as the words washed over him, like a balm to his soul.

In the diary, Hilya had constantly said: if everything was Qadar, then what's the reason for the believer to complain?

Then whether it's joy or sorrow, once it was written in Allah's plan, then all fate was working in favour of the believer.
It's up to you to rejoice, or blame fate.

One would earn you Allah's pleasure and His grace, the other is a sign of ingratitude and would lead to unnecessary worry in this world, and punishment in the next.

It was narrated from Anas bin Malik (RA) that the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him) said: "The greatest reward comes with the greatest trial. When Allah loves a people He tests them. Whoever accepts that wins His pleasure but whoever is discontent with that earns His wrath."٢

The Holy Prophet, upon him be peace had also said;

Suhaib reported: The Messenger of Allah peace and blessings be upon him said,"Wondrous is the affair of a believer, as there is good for him in every matter; this is not the case for anyone but a believer. If he experiences pleasure, he thanks Allah and it is good for him. If he experiences harm, he shows patience and it is good for him."٣

According to Hilya, if sacrificing one's ego and hurt was only to attain Allah's pleasure, then it was certainly worth it, and a profitable bargain at that!

Thus the rage within Arkaan slowly calmed till he stood there, his heart essentially became free. It wasn't that he did not feel any pain and anguish, no.. It was that he had decided, maybe it's also okay to let go.. - let go of such emotions.

He neither furrowed his eyebrows, nor did he once show the least bit of provocation to the hostility shown against him. His face was just normal, yet it had this calm and innocence to it that made the people watching from around began to wonder whether he was the same person Khalid was referring to. After all Khalid had painted the boy to be violent.

Seeing his words weren't causing any effect on Arkaan, Khalid turned to his friends, to make the walk away while he could or Arkaan's mature behaviour would turn the tables against him and make him seem the bad guy.

"Let's go. There's no use standing here anymore."His voice was surprisingly sober from the previous rage and hate-filled speech. He suddenly didn't know why he had behaved so with Arkaan. After all, the boy had apologized in their stead, in order to mend the bitter feelings they'd carried from childhood.

The others followed him, leaving Arkaan standing all alone in the middle of the street, people watching him. Most of them were new neighbours though, and didn't really understand what was going on. Yet Arkaan's behaviour just now, had created a good first impression without him knowing it.

He released his fisted knuckles from his sides, examining the redness. Though it looked easy, it wasn't - what he did just now. He had to use the pain generated in his fists to ward off the hurt and rage building in his heart, - Using physical pain as a distraction from the emotional hurt.

Arkaan slowly exposed his palm, releasing the fist. He looked at his palm faced up to the sky, standing there alone for a moment. He remembered his mother and - father...Tears wouldn't flow.
He had long since moved past that stage.

His feelings were dampened for the rest of the day, so he returned home. That was the third of the ten days he had, to make progress on getting new students for the halaqah.

Meanwhile, a youth sat upon the roof of one of the buildings nearby, his cloudgrey eyes soaking the entire scene. He was wearing a blackhoodie, and had unveiled his face, and thus appeared fully in the opened sunlight, his fair and wild countenance was so breathtaking that he looked unearthly.

He sighed. He really thought Arkaan would make some improvement that day. It was already the third day now. He turned and disappeared from the place of the scene.

When Arkaan returned to the apartment looking gloomy, Mother Ashyaa called him up to her,"Not looking quite well now, are we?" She checked his eyes and turned him round, looking to see if he was hurt anywhere. He smiled weakly,"My heart.."with a hand towards his chest.

The old lady hit him at the back of his head for teasing, a wide grin on her wrinkled face,"I know just the remedy for that."She laughed.

All so suddenly he felt the depressed feeling dissipate. Even as he followed the aged woman into the front door, he remembered how he and Mother Ashyaa first met a day ago.

When he'd arrived at the apartment, the recognition of his own family house had moved him to tears. He stood in the rain just like that, Allah knows how long he was like that.

Then an umbrella canopied him above, shielding him from the torrents. The lady wore a green set of matching clothes, and so was her umbrella.

When he traced the umbrella to the hand holding it, down to the face, he saw the old lady, a warm smile on her face. Even though, he was about some thirty centimetres taller than her, she held her hand high up, the umbrella above them both. He looked at her with his sorrowed eyes, she smiled at him,"You're not going to let us have this talk out here in this rain now, are we?"

Without even knowing he was the new boy who'd be staying with them, she pulled him in. Sitting by the hearth, a warm mug of flagrant tea in hand and thick blankets hugging him, Arkaan sat on the sofa opposite her, and poured his heart out.

"I don't know of any sickly woman around these areas, but I do know the Lady of the house is one vibrant person ever since I've known her - The Proprietress of Iqra Complex, she is." She said, after listening to Arkaan's whole story.

Arkaan didn't recognize this Lady.

During his childhood in Tâ Hâ, he had heard Iqra Complex was founded by a woman, but he had never known her. It was said she was never seen much outside, and disappeared from heading the school for a while. It seemed she had returned. He suddenly developed more curiosity about the High school he intended attending.

"Since you're our guest here, you can rest for now. Your and Ukashah's room's upstairs, you might want to get figured out with your things first. Later I'll help you begin a search for your mama."Mother Ashyaa consoled,"For now, you can take me as your mama. All the boys around here does, even lukewarm Ukashah."

Arkaan almost choked with a sudden burst of laughter whilst sipping his tea at her last statement. He had a sense of boding that they both would get along. And so it was, within a day it suddenly seemed as if Arkaan was even more close to her than Ukashah.

He smiled and sat down at the same sofa he did when he first entered the apartment. Mother Ashyaa poured him a cup of warm flagrant tea, and entered the kitchen for some chore of hers. Arkaan sniffed something good in the air.

He could smell sweet bakery.

Even as Arkaan was wondering what was going on, the old lady had brought out a tray from the oven, laden with pastries of all kinds. To call it sumptuous delicacies was an understatement. Arkaan's eyes were dazzling by now. The salivation occurring within his mouth told him; his tastebuds were all on cloud nine, all his morning depression gone.

"Uhm- Did you add honey to it? Tastes like honey!"Arkaan said amidst mouthfuls,"I love honey." Mother Ashyaa smiled.

"About that plan of ours, to find your Mama, how far with it?" She spoke as she removed the mittens, and busied herself with making some milkshake from the fridge. She sat down at the table right across where Arkaan was wolfing down the pastries.

"Must eat, talk later.."Arkaan said, his mouth full. Mother Ashyaa looked up at the boy in his late teens, who was devouring the food heartily. She smiled warmly at his child-like behaviour, her mission had been accomplished. She believed if Arkaan's mother really did live here before, then it wouldn't be hard finding traces to her. They could start with Lady Frieda first, she'd surely know something.

That night Arkaan just lay on his bed, thinking gloomily. From what Mother Ashyaa told him on the first day of their meeting, he believed his mother had long moved on. But if there were people who definitely knew something about her, it were surely two - his grandfather, and - The Al Ilyâsin tribe of Tâ Hâ!

He had long since come to realize the watchful eye of his maternal grandfather. Even now he wasn't completely sure his whereabouts weren't unknown to him. And he knew no matter what he said or did, the old man still cared about his daughter and grandson, deeply. Maybe not so his forced-upon son-in-law.

Then there was the Al Ilyâsin tribe, - those hypocrites, - with the exception of Little aunt of course! They wouldn't accept his mother, and yet had wanted to take him into the tribe, leaving his mother to fend for herself.

He knew they had always had an eye on his father and then him, after his father. He was lucky his grandfather got to him first, or he knew the tribe would do everything in their power to take back the only son of their first born heir. He'd choose any day, his maternal grandfather over the tribe even if it be kidnapping.

He sighed, turning himself over on the white bedsheets when he heard the door open and close.
Ukashah's in.

He turned to lie on his back, facing the ceiling. The jade-faced guy with brown hair and a refined air to himself, first looked at the boy on the bed beside his, and walked over to his study table by his bed.

"Salaamun alaykum."Ukashah sat down at the study table by his bedside, and opened a book.

"Really? You just come in and you're reading? You'll not even ask me; Oh Arkaan, how was your day today?"

"Oh Arkaan, how was your day today?"Ukashah's brown orbs were steadily looking into his book, whatever he was reading.

"Frigid.."Arkaan said his voice laden with dissatisfaction, as he turned, looking around on the bleached walls of the room.

The white-walled room was made in such a way that it had two doors facing each other on opposite walls; one led to the stairs and living hall, the other led to an ensuite bathroom.

Their student-sized beds by the curtained windows overlooking the compound and outside, each had a set of a study table-and-chair in the middle beside them, and a wooden cabinet was beside each bed's free side, table lamps decorating them. A shelf was stacked with books at the very middle, between their study table-and-chair set.

A fitted closet was built into the wall, directly opposite their beds and window.

The first time Arkaan entered the room, he couldn't recognize what had once been his parents' room. Everything had changed.

"Say, You left here early morning quite excited about the day. What has dampened your spirits so?"

Arkaan could see an almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of Ukashah's lips."What do you care? I'm sure you were waiting to say I told you so. But I'm still gonna succeed in getting the people, ya know!"

Ukashah looked at Arkaan. He really was all downcast, like he was carrying the burden of the whole world's depression on his shoulders.

He sighed and closed his book.

"Follow me."