“Bismillahir rahmaanir raheem”
-in the name of Allah, The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful-
You know that feeling when someone has been caught red-handed and officially given that smack across their face? That stinging feeling in their cheek can be felt just by looking at them? Well thats exactly how chotikhala looked right now, like someone had just smacked her across the face so hard..
Chotikhala: “you know what ismail… Mind your own business,”
She stated boldly but we could all see her quivering..
” what happens in my life has nothing to do with you… Judging from the life you have, you shouldn’t even be picking in other peoples business.. And besides, I’m not depriving my child of his father, his father abandoned him…..”
Ismail:” oh is that what you’re going to make him believe as he’s growing up? Just like how you all lied to me and made me believe all the wrong things as I grew up?”
It took a whole lot of restraint for me not to say anything this whole afternoon… For me that’s torture, to not open my big mouth and voice my opinion.. I always loved putting in my 2 cents here and there, but today wasn’t about me.. Shukr to Allah that it wasn’t, it was all about them…
The last time I’d sat in any meeting was the day we were told to pack our things and leave.. Like in afrikaans they’d say: “vat jou goed en trek” and it was on that day that ‘I’ was blamed for everything…
Atleast today there was no blaming me for anything and all the attention was turned.. Although I’m sure it was itching their tiny little poisonous tongues in the depth of their stinking mouths full of rotten or miSsing teeth to blame me..
Yes ofcourse, its faaizas fault that ismail was adopted, even though I wasn’t even born…
Its my fault that he was abused, because you know how I like to cause situations..
It would be my fault that he married me… That I can take the blame for abit..
Then it would be my fault that he turned into the woeful son that he is… Because if you must know, I’m the one who sits with a wooden stick infront of a chalkboard everyday and circle with a fine piece of chalk the words that I’d written in capital letters so its easier for ismail to take in.. ‘BE A RUBBISH! DO NOT OBEY THEM!’
And well ofcourse its me who brought on this whole meeting and like shaytaan, whispered into his soul that he should sit in this very bottle green and cream lounge with a glass coffee table in the middle of the room, resting on four bottle green stone pillars and disgrace every one of them slowly but surely..
That’s just how they are, by now I’ve realised that, Always looking for someone or the other to blame for their patheticness (if that’s even a word)…
Ismail: “hmm.. You’re right there woman… You are none of my business, because apparently I have no relation to you whatsoever… But you know what? that baby is my business, because we do have a relation…”
Ismail paused dramatically before he continued again..
” The relation is that both me and that little baby danyaal that you’re holding right in your arms close to your body so to protect him from any harm… We both have been harmed, we both have been deprived of fatherly love.. We both have been lied to by the very people who claim that they only want to protect us and give us the best….. That’s what our relation is.. So I won’t cause it for you.. I won’t tell you what I know or rather who I know…”
” All I’ll tell you is that you can hide from the world, your little secret, but you can never hide from Allah! So this is your warning to make things right before its too late….”
Moulana: “maaf, I don’t have much time.. Its almost asr time and I’d like to conclude this meeting quickly if possible before I leave…”
By now rukayas husband altaaf had also joined us.. He apologised to ismail for being late.. He had some work to sort out but ismail just smiled knowing that he hadn’t missed anything that was important to him.. Their issues were yet to come…
Ismail: “perfect moulana.. We’re almost done anyway..”
Ismail focuse on yusuf and winked, so to signal that he should take the opportunity as his only chance to say it….
Yusuf: “I’d like to… (Clearing his throat).. Everybody… Meet my wife Hafsa!”
Jumu’ah mubarak to everyone..remember me in your duas on this auspicious day and dont forget to recite abundant durood.. Please feel free to add to our durood count inshallah….
With only a few days left of thul Qa’dah, please assist in the completion of our khatam before thul hijjah begins…to view which paras are still available, click onto the following link..