Chapter Twenty-Four

He was shoved against the wall. The sharp impact blurred his vision as two figures closed in, their faces hidden in the shadows. There was a gleam of metallic glint; a quick flash of the dagger and an echo of the warning they had come with.

They left as quickly as they had appeared. His cold hands pressed against his shoulder as warm blood gushed forth. Pain shot through his shoulders and arms. His eyes squeezed shut. Ya Allah. He slid against the wall, fighting the darkness that appeared in front of his eyes. Shallow and sharp breaths escaped his constricted throat as his blurred vision made out a third figure appearing in the alleyway.

There was a distant voice. Someone was calling out his name —

His grip on consciousness loosened. His lips moved: La Ilaha Illallah Muhammadur Rasulullah.

Someone grabbed him by the shoulders. There was a gleam of light, and then, darkness.

Hushed voices. The words began to clear as he fought against his subconsciousness.

"What happened-"

"I don't know! I- I just saw those two men."

Aleena and Rahul.

His other senses did not return to him as quickly. He could not open his eyes, but he could hear the tears in Aleena's shaking voice and the panic in Rahul's. The ache in his head and his shoulders and arms had not subsided but it had lessened. The familiar charpai shifted beneath him, and a blanket covered him from the cold.

Under the blanket, a hand held his.

Mahrosh? Where is-? Abruptly, his eyes snapped open. His dark eyes clashed against a pair of glazed orbs. Walid's heart settled.

Rahul and Aleena's voices hushed as Walid tried to sit up. His shoulder and head had been bandaged; but the throbbing pain lingered. Rahul stepped forward to help him but he raised a hand, his voice hoarse. "I'm fine, Alhamdulillah."

As his back rested against the wall, the images of the alleyway flashed in front of his eyes. The pieces of the puzzle slowly began to fall into place; the men, the dagger, the threat, it was Rahul who had found him before he fell unconscious —

Under the blanket, Walid's grip tightened on Mahrosh' hand.

"Does- does it hurt?" Aleena moved closer. Her eyes were red, and his chest ached at the sight.

"It was just my shoulder." He sounded surprisingly calm. Walid met Aleena's gaze, his expression softening. "I'm alright Aleena, Alhamdulillah."

But his light tone did not have the effect he had hoped it would. Aleena turned her face away as a fresh set of tears trailed down her cheeks.

Rahul watched from the side. His forehead was creased and the panic so openly displayed across his face. It appeared Rahul had a lot to say, but he sealed his lips shut. He had overstepped enough into the family's privacy. "I'll go now, but I'll come tomorrow."

Walid nodded. "Thank you, Rahul." He meant it. From the bottom of his heart. Rahul nodded, raising a hand in greeting before he walked himself out.

The silence that followed was louder than the echo of the closed door. Aleena's tears did not stop. "Aleena..." Walid whispered, "Please stop crying. I'm fine, Alhamdulillah. I promise."

Aleena nodded, but she couldn't help it. Her tears showed no sign of stopping, even when she retreated to her room. The door closed behind her, but winters are the worst at hiding secrets. The sounds of her muffled sobs trickled through the closed door. Walid stared after her. How often he made her cry.

The darkness of his eyes reflected the weight on his shoulders; Aleena's sobs like spears shooting through his heart.

But under the blanket, a hand still held his.

Walid looked at Mahrosh. She sat by his side but her gaze was fixed on his shoulder, and her dewy eyes; the windows to the emotions she simply could not hide; reflected her pain. Perhaps it would have hurt her less if she was the one injured, said her irises as a tear dripped down her chin.

A different emotion struck a rhythm within Walid's heart. He raised his hand to her chin and gently tilted it upwards. Her gaze pulled away from his shoulder and their eyes met. Walid did not tell her he was fine. He did not tell her it did not hurt as his thumb gently brushed her tears away. A lump came up to his throat, and in the few seconds within them, a hundred unspoken things were whispered.

Mahrosh did not let him comfort her. She held his hand between hers, as if to remind him that she was alright and there to comfort him and not the other way around, her voice hoarse.  "I'll warm you some food."

Walid did not let go of her hand. "Mahrosh —"

"I made the daal. For the first time- without Aleena's help." He heard the tremor in her voice. "I didn't eat it because I wanted to eat it with you. I'll bring it- please, Walid, eat."

Walid stared at her. To be standing amidst a fire, with shoulders that tire from the weight and a heart that is wounded; and to come home... to someone who worries if you have eaten or not. Who brings you food, not because it will solve your problems but simply because their heart aches to provide a little bit of comfort. For years, Walid had struggled to define home. But Mahrosh' daal tasted just like that.

Her presence was home. The comfort of her gentle caress and care as he rested his head on her lap, and she recited dum and insisted he rest. It was home. It was ease.

Inna ma'al usri yusra.

With hardship, there is ease.

Not just after; with. In the raging storms of the battles life threw your way, the darkness that weakened your knees till you felt you would buckle under the weight —

With hardship, there is ease.

Ease within the love of the family Allah has blessed you with. Ease within the sajdah you are still capable of making; Ease within the hundreds of blessings of your Rabb. They are still there — Your Rabb never leaves you alone; a comforting message when you need it most, an ayah that your heart needs. Even in the harshest of battles, there is ease.

Do not let the darkness of your battles blind you to the gentle light of a thousand flickering stars of Allah's blessings.

Walid was on his feet the next day. If his struggles had involved only him or Mahrosh, he would have moved on quickly. But they didn't. A wound had opened for Aleena, while for Rahul it was fresh and he he could not ignore either.

Rahul arrived early the next day. He made sure Walid was feeling better, before he allowed himself to speak his mind. He paced in front of Walid as he spoke, barely aware that Aleena and Mahrosh were present as well.

"I saw the men who did it. I'll get their sketch made and submit it to the police. Do you recognise them?"

"It was too dark and sudden. I did not see their faces."

"I did-" Mahrosh said, her voice low. In the rush of last night's events she had forgotten to mention this detail to Walid. "They came here first, asking about you."

Walid's expression grew grave, but Rahul interrupted his thoughts again.

"You must have an idea of who could do such a thing, Walid! Those men weren't normal thieves! They were gunday*. They probably stole your watch so they would be labeled as thieves and not the gangsters they are, trying to commit murder —"

Aleena's gaze flickered to his wrist. Baba's watch.

"They did not come to kill me."

"Then why?"

The tick of the clock filled the silence in the bramda. "To scare me."

Rahul frowned. He did not understand but the girls understood perfectly well. Mahrosh did not need to be told to guess who it could have been and Aleena knew perfectly well why anyone would wish to scare Walid. "Scare you?" Rahul looked baffled, "About what —"

Aleena cut him off. "Did it work?"

Her voice was hoarse; heavy. She had tried to rope her fears but they were wild and unyielding. Walid did not look at her. He knew of her burning eyes, and the nails that dug into the palms of her clenched fists.

Walid's silence spoke louder than his words would have, and Aleena had her answer. The wound slashed open; the monsters of fear raged wild.

"I want to support your work, Walid — I agree with it, but how can you be so blind to the world we live in? People like you, people like us, we have no power! There is nothing that we can do! What difference do you think this bravery of yours will bring? Nothing! Your own people will turn their back against you just for wealth, and your bravery will be punished. What do you think will happen to us, then? Your sister and your wife —"

"Aleena-" Mahrosh stepped forward, but Aleena's voice raised.

"They stole Baba's watch. They could have killed you, Walid. Mahrosh could have been widowed, and I could have been left with no family. What would Baba say if he saw you like this? Walid, please —" she buried her face in her hands and broke down completely. .

Her sobs faded into silence that engulfed them. Rahul watched Aleena, something flashing across his orbs, but Walid did not raise his head. Mahrosh noticed the muscle that ticked in his jaw, and yet, he remained silent till Aleena's tears faded.

When Walid spoke; his voice low — as if he was trying to keep a grip on the heaviness of the emotions that weighed over him.

"There is nothing that we can do..." he repeated. "We are powerless. Weak. We should stay within our homes and live for the sake of these four walls. And when we hear troubling news, we can express our concern, comment on our leaders and the terrible condition of the ummah, and then get back to our lives like nothing happened..."

Walid raised his head. His eyes were ablaze; on fire.

"I would rather die a hundred deaths of honor than live a life like that, Aleena. You ask me if they managed to scare me... mere men, a mere stab to my shoulders, when I am from the descendants of those who carried the flag of Islam? They carried it till their arm was cut off in battle and then they picked it up with their other arm, and when that too was cut off, held onto the flag with the.  ir mouths. Oh, power — none have the power but Allah. He is Al-Qadir. The hearts of those that deny Him beat because He has willed it.

We are powerless? Weren't we always? We are insaan — most imperfect in our being, but the ashraf-al-makhlukat. We are Insaan but so was Abubakr Siddique, and Omar bin Khattab. They carried the flag of Islam, and they raised it high — now, it is within our hands, and we choose to hide away in our homes and live selfishly."

The passion in his voice was hard to maintain. Walid spoke often in his halaqahs, but his words now were raw and bare — as if his heart had burst open and it was this organ that was speaking.

"The dark days of the ummah; everyone of us will have something to speak about this forgetting that you, and I and every individual with a beating heart are the ummah.

The ummah is asleep, Aleena, and no matter the comfort that comes with this sleep — Wallahi, all the sleeping hearts out there ache to be awoken. The souls within the bodies are restless. I have talked to people and realized the rawness with which they crave for guidance. Sometimes they do not even know of it. Their brains try to convince them that change is daunting and scary; but their heart — their heart is restless. It beats against the cages of their ribs saying you were created for something greater than this. How can a heart survive without the remembrance of its Creator?"

Tears streamed down Mahrosh' cheeks; a film of her own life playing in front of her eyes.

"And then they find Allah..." Walid's eyes glazed. "And then they hear His words, and they flee towards Him. Where they always belonged."

In another part of the room, Aleena's heartbeat fastened in recognition of the story.

"I was once no different. In the deepest of slumbers — and then, Allah... Allah in is His Rahma, guided me. I have known the darkness of this slumber, so how can I not grab others by the shoulders and try to shake them awake? Guidance is in His hands, but He guided me and once I have the ilm, it is my duty to spread it. Through my words, and my actions, and my existence... how can I not, Aleena?"

Rahul watched. He did not understand. He did not understand Walid's emotions. He did not understand the tears that streamed down Aleena and Mahrosh' cheeks.

But mostly, Rahul did not understand why he was crying and why his heart ached so terribly. 

gunday - gangsters

السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

Apologies for the wait, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

I think it's one of my favorites so far.