His Hafizah and her Hafiz

Catastrophe

Hawa POV:

The days were passing in a speedy blur like the swift bolting of a train down its tracks. The twins were already awake and four months old. They were growing up so fast that I couldn't help but cry tears of joy; I didn't want them to grow up, but at the same time I did.

Walking down the hallway, I entered the boys nursery room which was painted turquoise blue with two white cribs cornered on each wall. There was a diaper changing station, a few white wall shelves, and word portraits that Safoora had sprinkled around the room. There was one frame that read 'Your Aunty Loves You' in cursive golden letters.

I let out a rueful sigh. It all brought back heartbreaking memories of the past, and flashes of Safoora laughing and decorating the room surfed up, and I held in my gushing tears. It was already five months and Safoora hadn't exited the hospital; the last thing I wanted was her to leave this world without getting the chance to meet nephews. It was hard. I didn't even visit her yet unlike the rest of the family, since I had babysitting duties 24/7.

Huzaifah had notified me of the reverse shot he had injected her with, and now there was a fifty fifty chance of her living or dying. As for Abu Hurairah, he was freaking about her memory loss which sparked my stresses even more. I was horrified, I'll admit it. I wanted the best for her, but if she forgot me... I didn't know how to introduce myself from the beginning. It was going to be really hard.

I let out a loud sigh again. Today, I had decided to abandon my babysitting duties and pursue my dreams. But first, I had a busy morning schedule to accomplish; I had to dress the babies, visit Safoora for the first time, and then register for University to resume my second undergraduate year with Abu Hurairah which I had paused momentarily for the birth of my sons. 

I had decided to go back to my studies, and leave the boys with Aunt Sarah since she was taking a few years break from work to take care of Umme Qulsum. She didn't mind having the boys burden her list of chores, and for that I was very grateful to have her assistance.

I peered over the crib at Harun, he stretched his body and gave me a cheeky grin. He was wide awake on his belly lifting his head up, and because of my presence he wanted out of his crib. 

"Good morning!" I greeted joyously, returning his smile. He immediately rolled over, and extended his arms out for me to carry him.

I lifted him out of his crib, and got him changed into his clothes for the day, a blue shirt and pants. "Mummy's going to wake Musa up." I told him, smacking his cheeks with a wet kiss. He grinned widely as I placed him back on his crib while he continued observing me wide-eyed.

"Musa, good morning!" I cheered, poking my other son who slept like a hibernating bear. After a few attempts, he woke up and began wailing loudly like the usual. Harun stared at him with utter confusion, giving him the look of 'which doofus makes a scene in the morning'.

With my phone on speaker, I dialed Abu Hurairah's number, and swiftly got Musa changed into his morning wear, the same outfit as Harun.

"Assalamu Alaikum, what do you want?" Abu Hurairah barked with annoyance.

"Walaikum Assalam, Are you in class or are you free?" I asked, placing Musa on my hips who had decided to give out one of his ear-piercing scream. He made it clearly evident that I was the worst mother on earth since I had destroyed his peaceful slumber.

"Shut your kid up, Hawa!" Abu Hurairah scolded, pulling me back on earth. "You need to really discipline them. They need to know the do's and don'ts for crying. They are men for Allah's sake. It's very shameful to find one of our species crying like that--"