42 | Created in Pairs

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#JusticeforHoor

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"And We created you in pairs

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"And We created you in pairs." - Holy Quran [78:8]

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Haya

In Islam, Nikah is the completion of half our faith. 

But I don't think any of us truly realise that until we're actually experiencing that ourselves. Nothing felt real until I found myself sat between my father and the Imam in the large drawing room at the Tariq family home.

Until I witnessed the solemn expressions of Rohaan and Arsal as they stood at the opposite side of the room, hands clasped in front of them in a similar manner.

Until I heard the molvi sahab explain the importance of Nikah, and the role my father played in this as my Wali (guardian).

Until I saw my mother's tear-filled eyes, as Hareem Khalla wrapped her arm around her shoulders and hugged her comfortingly.

My Dada Jaan sat on the armchair on the molvi sahab's other side, while Kamran Uncle sat on the matching armchair on Papa's other side. Chachu and Mamu sat on chairs pulled up close to the coffee table where the Nikah papers were placed.

"Haya Rehan, daughter of Rehan Tariq, do you take Aariz Abdullah, son of Abdullah Zaman, as your husband, with the haq mehr of six thousand pounds?" The molvi sahab asked the one question that has life changing abilities for the bride and groom.

"Qabool Hai." I replied in affirmative.

"Haya Rehan, daughter of Rehan Tariq, do you take Aariz Abdullah, son of Abdullah Zaman, as your husband, with the haq mehr of six thousand pounds?"

"Qabool Hai."

"Haya Rehan, daughter of Rehan Tariq, do you take Aariz Abdullah, son of Abdullah Zaman, as your husband, with the haq mehr of six thousand pounds?"

"Qabool Hai." I replied. My voice caught in my throat as I said those words.

The molvi sahab showed me where to sign, and I did so. Papa wrapped an arm around my shoulders when I was done and kissed the side of my head.

It was like everything was happening in a blur around me and I was trying to figure things out, but it was all happening to fast. I was still trying to absorb the fact that I had just signed my Islamic marriage contract, and in a few minutes, once Aariz signed as well, I would be his wife.

Wife.

Wow.

Whoa.

As everyone hugged and congratulated each other, and one by one my relatives walked up to me to give me duas, I sat still, my gaze in my lap. A red dupatta had been draped over my head, a part of a tradition, I suppose. 

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