Leilah Usman awaits an acceptance from a university abroad so she can leave the country she never loved when she stumbles upon an ancient diary. Through the eyes of Mahrosh Irfan, she finds herself in a world so completely different from hers.
One w...
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The inked clouds gently mixed with the lighter colors of dawn, as the brilliant hues spread across the sky. Somewhere; a bird ruffled its wings and flew out of its nest. In the evening, it would return to its nest and be home again -
Home; a place Aleena and Walid no longer had.
Aleena watched Walid close the gate. Through a window of her brain that she was unable to shut; she saw her father close the same gate - a ten year old Walid pushed her wheelchair. "Baba come!" she shouted over her shoulder. Colors splashed around them; the laughter of kids and the excitement of a family outing awaiting them. Her father laughed, pocketing the keys. "Coming, coming-"
"Let's go," Walid said.
She was back again. She was outside the same gates, but the colors were gone and heavy silence hung about them.
Walid grabbed the suitcase, but when he turned around; Aleena did not see any creases on his forehead. She did not see any chaos within his eyes - no sign that his heart mirrored hers in his feelings.
"How are you so calm?"
It came out as a whisper; voice low - as if it would break if she were to raise it.
"How can I not be? When I have left the matter to Allah."
His answer was brief; and yet, Aleena recognised the ease in his eyes. The same ease and the same faith had kindled in another pair of eyes just the night before - an ease that had transformed in front of her.
The eyes that were now closed shut in slumber. Next to her on the bed, was her open diary -
I was finally getting over it - I was finally getting over my fear, and perhaps that is why it hurts so much. Somewhere, I had even begun looking forward to having a home of my own. I had put the bricks of my dreams one over the other - looking forward to hearing Walid's salam when he returned home. I had thought of the paintings on the walls; and the books on the shelves. I had carefully sketched the home; deciding on love to be the foundation, and gentleness to be the ceiling -
And I had thought; perhaps that would be a home I would not wish to escape as much as I do mine.
Aleena says I should have stopped Walid - she says I should have stopped him if I truly cared. But how could I? How could I when I have seen the fire in his eyes - when I have seen the weight of the dreams he carries; when I have seen a glimpse of the grief within him that deems him incapable of idleness? How can I even dare to stop him when I know what he is doing is not for his sake but for Allah's?
