"You'll always have me," I repeated. "Even when you hate me... "
"I don't hate you, Zain," she interrupted. I believed her but knew it wouldn't last.
"One day, Rah, you will hate me and be repulsed by what I did. Just know that on that day and all t...
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Ameerah
Never before had turning a page been so fraught with apprehension or accompanied by so many silent prayers as it was after reading Zain's drunken ramblings. Fortunately for me, he was a man whose conscience gave more than a fair beating to the recalcitrant mind.
It didn't work Rah. I can still feel everything in my heart, even you. Only now it is 1000x worse and I hate myself. I let so many people down. I let you down. I didn't even read namaz last night. Why am I such an idiot, Rah? I mean what the hell is wrong with me? Alcohol turned me into a monster once and yet somehow I thought it would help me hurt less? Are all men fools, or is it just me?
"The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool." I said out loud a quote from the Shakesparean play 'As you Like it'. The only one I remembered from English Lit class in school, because some rebellious teenagers can be fools too.
Zain wasn't just a fool. He was also a human, that too with a heart.
I read all your letters again, Rah. I wish I could ask you why you believe in me when no one else does? But then I think maybe the more important thing is to believe in myself too. Maybe that's why I keep failing. I expect nothing from myself. I am going to change that Rah. Today.
There was a list of commendable qualities he thought he possessed. It was far too short, and I could have added a dozen more attributes, but there was one undeniable truth even he couldn't refute.
I am good with kids.
The next several pages spoke of his struggle to find a job. With a degree in finance from a reputable university in the US, that should not have been a difficult task. Yet, it was - each company did a criminal background check after the initial interview. Follow-up calls never came.
The world doesn't want me Rah.
Just a single sentence on the last page of a journal, carrying the somber weight of weeks of rejection.
As the call for Fajr prayers pierced the tranquil early morning, the faithful stirred from their slumber to bow in peaceful devotion before their Lord. Some might have remained awake throughout the night. I wondered how many souls had re-lived another's existence through the inked narratives on lifeless pages. Or how many silent hearts had slowly realized a truth of their own, just like I had.
"I want you, Zain," I whispered to the fading night.
Even if everyone else in the world turned him away, he had a home in me. Always.
Thankfully, four years ago, one wise man had seen through his past.
