Hey! It happened that I've got nothing to post today. And, weirdly, I'm glad about that.
Why? Ok... I'll just go straight to the point.
Having nothing to post today made me go into my vintage. Behold! I found a short story I'd really really love to share. So, here it is... It is titled 'In Sha Allah'
IN SHA ALLAH
When the dawn brings back the call for subh and we must have just concluded our prayers, I'll turn to my beautiful wife with a sneaky gaze. I'll let her offer her every attention while I squeeze my lips into unspoken words,but cast down my gaze disappointedly like they are too heavy for my tongue . She'll rush her stare at me with no degree of declination, pestering with her eyebrows that I should speak. Yet, I will not.. I'll let her languish in utmost curiosity until her enthusiasm grows out of patience. "what has happened" - she'll whisper with her everly soothing voice;the same voice that rescues me when I drown in pools of frustration. She'll will inquire again with a breath of fear , but I still will not speak.
Except that I will reach for the english Qur'an gifted to congratulate our Nikkah two years ago...she'll watch as I flip it's pages to suratul Nisah. "Here, read" I'll command my obedient wife pointing firmly to the third verse.
Before she'll be done reading, I'll barge into my room and lock up the door without caring a bit of the result of my unkind action. Laying on bed, I'll recall what the verse says...
“"And if you fear that you shall not be able
to deal justly with the orphan girls then
marry (other) women of your choice, two or
three, or four; but if you fear that you shall
not be able to deal justly (with them), then
only one or (slaves) that your right hands
possess. That is nearer to prevent you from
doing injustice”"
I'll keep the malice for some time by refusing to let the door open even when she announces breakfast. In fact, I'll just lie there until time calls for zuhr. Then,I'll stealth towards the door and subhanallah!!
My darling wife will be at the door kneeling towards my meal. She'll shyingly stretch out a cup of tea towards my right arm while her other hand will assist the edge of hijab to wipe off the balls of tears running down her pretty face.
Here, I'll pull her weight away from the floor and beg her to quit the cry. Yet, I'll make her read the verse again. But this time, I'll be there to guide her through the lines. I'll swear to her by Allah that no man can be just with his wives. "I am contented with you", I'll gently opine and she'll return a dimpled smile that indeed she will be the only one.
However, I will know within myself that I would have proceeded in getting a brand new wife if not for her weeping objection.
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