I have traveled the universe through my imagination and I have forgotten what reality looks like.

*****

A Dead Man's Wish

Zayn kept on staring at his father as the news sank deeper in his mind. Why her? Why does it have to be her of all the girls in the world? It could have been anybody but not Hannan. The news gave him an odd vibe, even the sound of her name was odd to him.

Hassan waited for his son to say something, perhaps react with a smile but Zayn had no words for him. He was simply appalled by the news. 

"So what do you think of Saleh's girl? Is she good for you?" He questioned Zayn's silence, a giant smile plastered on his face, one which was soon to fade away

"Father, you don't expect me to marry someone who is like a little sister to me."He stated, disappointed that his father would bring up such a topic at an odd hour of the night. Hassan didn't see that coming either, the accusatory glare on Zayn's face. He shook his head in disapproval at his words.

"Is anything wrong with that?" His father interjected, reading the disappointment in his son's eyes. He hated that his father would choose such a girl for him. Their huge age gap was not the only problem he had with his father's choice, the thought of being with a woman he had no feelings for, not even the slightest feelings, and then living with her and waiting until death do them apart made him sick to the core. The thought of it alone was almost ripping off his heart.

"Whose idea was it to have her betrothed to me?" Zayn met his father's demand with a question of his own. "This is absurd!" He huffed and Hassan sighed, cutting his son short with a raise of his hands.

"Listen to me carefully, Son." He adjusted his position on his seat and leaned forward so Zayn could hear him clearly. "It was your grandfather's wish to bring the both of you together on the very day she was born following the family tradition. I chose her for you long before she was born and I did that as a favor to my dear friend, Saleh. It was also your grandfather's decision to commence the betrothal ritual that night, so you see both of your fates have been sealed the very first day you set your eyes on that girl." 

Zayn recalled being at the hospital where she was born, although he had been too young to understand what they were doing that night, but it stung him now to learn that his destiny had been tied to a girl he hardly even knew. He couldn't believe that his father and grandfather had planned this thing a long time ago and nobody cared to fill him in since that time. As far as he was concerned he didn't see himself taking part in whatever they had planned.

"I can't fulfill a dead man's wish," Zayn spoke slowly and quietly, still amazed at his father's suggestion.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking that you exist outside the rules." Hassan spoke in a more serious tone, his voice held a bit of threat as if warning his son not to say anything ill of their cultural practices."You must honor the tradition of your forefathers. Since the beginning of the Ali dynasty this family has produced seven great kings and each of them followed this chain."

"To hell with the tradition! To hell with the throne!" Zayn protested in a loud and angry tone, surprising himself and slightly regretting it. He had never raised his voice at his father before. He took a deep breath in an attempt to quench the fire burning inside him before opening his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry, father, but she just isn't someone I can tolerate or even consider." The scene of the three unsightly encounters he had had with her flashed before his eyes and he couldn't hate her more. A frustrated frown made its way to his face. "No offense, but I can't be with someone like her. That uncultured child." He blurted out his thoughts and he couldn't help but notice the sudden change in his father's face.

"Zayn! She is Saleh's daughter. Do not speak of her like that." Hassan sparked like a naked wire, causing a bomb to explode in Zayn's head.

"Then we are done here." He yelled back, regretting the words as they escaped his lips. "If you have anything else to talk about I'd like to hear it, but let's forget about her because I don't see us ending up together, ever." He stood up, running a bitter hand through his hair, an unexpected and confused smile appeared on his face. He almost laughed at the incredibility of the tight position he found himself in, that was the moment he recalled the conversation he had with his brother a few days back.

"But Hannan is a good girl." The old man spoke in a low tone. "What is wrong with her that makes you think she's not good enough for you?" He stared at his son, disappointed at his reaction. He had never in his wildest dream expected that his son would say something bad about his friend's daughter or even raise his voice at him. As far as he knew, Hannan was like a daughter to him and he would not tolerate anyone calling her names and speaking ill of her, not even his son.

"She is not my type," Zayn sighed bitterly, casting his gaze down and looking at anywhere but his father. He seemed to have forgotten why he stood up in the first place. Oh! He wanted to walk out on his father but the way he called his name made his knees weak. He was ashamed of himself.

"Zayn," The old man's voice was deliberately soft.

"Yes, Father."

"Sit down, I want to talk to you and you will listen to me."

Zayn did as he was told and sat on the floor before his father, hanging his head low, his gaze fixated on his slightly shaking hands on his knees. He didn't mean to sound so disrespectful, feeling remorseful, he knew that he should apologize for his actions but his pride wouldn't let him do it. 

The room was once again engulfed in a heart-aching silence in which Zayn was subconsciously reminded by the steady hum of the machine fixed to his grandmother and the agony she was going through. More to his pain, how could he have acted like that in her presence?

"It's my fault that you don't know all these things, there are so many things that I should have taught you but time would not permit us. Moreover, you have stayed away from home for so long that you have forgotten our culture."Hassan's voice was low as he reached for his son and grabbed his right hand which was placed on his knees. He took his son's hand, taking note of his cold palm, and rested it on his lap. 

Zayn opened his palm and lifted his head to see what his father was about to do. His eyes were instantly drawn to the small black mark below his thumb that resembled a crescent with a naevus. 

"Have you ever wondered what this sign symbolizes?" Hassan touched his finger to the mark, wanting his son to pay attention to what he was about to tell him. Zayn simply shook his head, wondering what that has to do with the discussion they are having.

"It's the ancient sign of the heir to the throne. Your grandfather chose you, he marked you himself on the day you were born. It is your birthright to serve your people and to do this, you must follow the rules. There are consequences if you don't obey these rules." The solemness in his father's words made something resonate within him. He never thought of a day where he'd discuss Hannan with his father, out of all the people in his life.

Zayn stared at the spot unable to blink, thinking what had he gotten himself into coming back home. There was a moment he wanted to regret being born into that family.

"Father please," He finally found his voice and he hated how he sounded helpless in this situation. "I beg you, let's undo the betrothal ritual."

"Son, you don't understand, the betrothal and binding rituals aside, I gave Saleh my words. It was a night like this when instead of Inna, it was Saleh who laid on a bed just like this one." Hassan began the story of the night his best friend made his final departure." I stayed with him during the last moments of his life." He lifted his gaze heavenward, staring at the gray ceiling, the memory of his dying friend playing back in his mind.

"He asked Hannan to leave us alone and requested that I take care of her and her sister, Teslim. He reminded me of the promise that we made to each other seventeen years before that very moment. He knew he was going to die and he was more worried about his family than himself. I knew the culprit was going to come after his daughter because she knew too much, so I had them relocated to Abuja." Zayn listened to his father's narration inquisitively with wide eyes, a little taken aback by that piece of information. Feeling sorry for Saleh and his girls, Zayn couldn't restrain himself from saying the next thing that came to mind.

"Father, your reckless pursuit for vengeance exposed him and his family to needless danger." He met his father's eyes and the old man couldn't agree more. He nodded weakly and carried on with his narration.

"I gave Hafsah a job in this hospital so she can work under me, using the opportunity to keep a close eye on her. I gave Hannan a scholarship so she can attend one of the most prestigious universities in the country and receive a quality education. Trust me, she's doing well. Her academic performance is outstanding. I do visit her school to check up on her from time to time and also make sure no harm comes to her. And believe me when I say Hannan is a well-mannered girl, with a good Islamic background. It reflects in her manner of dressing." Zayn didn't like the way his father's eyes shone when he spoke about her. His over-glorified remarks about her made him sick to the stomach 

"What about Teslim," He interrupted his father because of his sincere concern for the young lady, not just because he wanted him to cease his endless talk about Hannan.

"Teslim is married, so she is Ahmad's responsibility now. But I still check up on her too, once in a while."

"Once in a while?" Zayn knitted his brows together. 

When was the last time you even saw her? Ah! Maybe a year ago. He mentally rolled his eyes at the thought. Reminded of her health condition, he felt like Teslim needed the protection and care more than that wild cat who called herself Hannan.

"Son, please let me finish. I would never ask you to do something that would deprive you of the happiness that you desire. Life is too short for me to force you into doing something of such for my sake. I understand that this is the most important decision of your life and you would want to take the right steps on your terms but you should also understand that I gave my words to Saleh. I should have kept my words to him in another way if the circumstances were favorable but you were the price I have to pay for what we have done." He paused to see Zayn's reaction to his last sentence but he had none. It was either he was not listening or thinking of what to say. Hassan's thoughts settled on the latter.

"Hannan is a good girl, raised by good parents. Her father has sacrificed a lot for this family. For this purpose only I ask you to consider her as your bride. Please, I'm begging you to think about it carefully. I'm not forcing you to make any rash decision but if after thinking about it, you still feel otherwise, then we shall undo the betrothal ritual without anyone getting hurt in the process." The old man gave his son the option to make his own decision. It was only fair that he did that. 

He watched as Zayn withdrew his hands and placed them on his lap. He looked down at his cold hands, considering his father's words and thinking back to the conversation he had with his brother, which was his only hope, saving grace, and an escape plan from the prison he found himself in.

"I would forever be grateful if you fulfill my wish, her father's, and your grandfather's wish."  Zayn closed his eyes to his father's voice as it rang in his head. He was sorry to disappoint them all. He could not fulfill a dead man's wish, not when there was someone who could do it, Imran, his beloved brother was well suited to fulfill this promise that his father had made to his late friend.

"Father, there is something I want to tell you." Zayn thought that this was the right time to inform his father about Imran's intention toward the girl in question.

"What is it, Son?"The father looked at him, his dark eyes softening with hope.

"Imran desires to be with the girl. He confided in me, saying that he wanted to marry her."These words made the Professor freeze in his seat.

"What!" He exclaimed, struggling to breathe properly. He felt his inside shriveled up at once.  Even Zayn was startled by his reaction. 

"How long has this been going on?" He coughed, not once, not twice but several times. He held his hands to his chest as though he was experiencing heartburn.

"Father, are you alright?" Zayn hurried to help, ignoring his question because he didn't know how to answer it, plus his father was exhibiting signs of someone slowly going into cardiac arrest. That frightened him.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner." Hassan continued to cough while trying to rise to his feet, but Zayn stopped him, helping him to sit back on the chair.

"Father, please relax. I'm going to fetch you some water." Quickly he grabbed the bottled water that he had drank from and opened it before handing it to his father. With shaking hands, Hassan reached for the plastic bottle and Zayn aided him to drink from it.

After taking some slow gulps, Zayn retrieved the bottle, covering it and putting it away. He grabbed a nearby pillow and used it to support his father's back on the seat.

Zayn stared at his father's efforts to breathe and then realized that there wasn't anything more he could do to help his situation. His helpless eyes averted from his father and scanned the surroundings before they fell on the inhaler on top of the bedside drawer. 

"Please, bring my inhaler." Hassan gestured toward the medical device and almost immediately Zayn fetched it and gave it to him. He watched as Hassan's chest rose and fell as he took the treatment. Once done, the old man rested his head on the headrest of the seat and closed his eyes, waiting for his breathing to stabilize.

"Are you cold?"Zayn asked him and he saw his father nodding in response. He took off his safrah and covered him with it. He raised his legs off the ground, grabbing a square stool and placing it under his legs. As he did that he thought he heard his father say something.

"I think I'm being punished by God." Hassan lamented, thinking that he was bearing the consequences of his action. Zayn paused to look at his father, kneeling on the floor before him.

"What?" He asked in a whisper with confusion evident in his eyes. He shook his head at his words and continued what he was doing.

"I'm atoning for my sins." Hassan carried on lamenting and nursing his wounded soul. "I feel like God is testing me to determine if I should be allowed to carry on living."

"Don't say that. I will go and fetch you a cozy blanket from my car." After making sure his father was comfortable, Zayn stood up and started to head for the door.

"Son, "The father called and pointed to the stool, signaling him to come take a seat. Zayn came dragging his feet to do as he was told. A pang of guilt tugged at his chest, almost tearing him apart. He faulted himself for being responsible for whatever had just happened. The rash words he spoke upon receiving the news might have hit his father at the wrong point. If only he had just kept his opinion to himself, none of this would have happened.

"It's time that I told you the truth." He heard his father say, and he tried not to look him in the eyes. He remained silent and stared at the floor.

"Imran and Hannan can not be together. You have no idea of the sacrilege he is about to commit."

"What are you talking about?"

"Imran is not my son."

Zayn froze at his spot. His father's words left him dumbstruck. He couldn't help but trip at the incredibility of the statement.

"What are you talking about, Father?"

"He is Saleh's child."

Zayn stared wide-eyed at his father, his mind racing with puzzled thoughts. The shock of the moment paralyzed him, rendering him speechless.