It was narrated that Sa'd ibn Abi Waqqaas (radiallahu anhu) said: The Messenger of Allah (sallallahu alayhi wasalam) said: "There are four things that are essential for happiness: a righteous wife, a spacious home, a good neighbour and a sound means of transportation. And there are four things that make one miserable: a bad neighbour, a bad wife, a small house and a bad means of transportation."
Narrated by Ibn Hibbaan in his Saheeh (1232) and classed as saheeh by al-Albani in al-Silsilah al-Saheehah (282) and Saheeh al-Targheeb (1914).
2003 June
Navas residence
"Wake up!! Wake up! wake up Amju! I'm going to put water on your face." Farzana was really fed up of waking her brother daily.
"Alhamdulillah (All praise to Allah) that I'm married and I don't have to wake you up daily. You impossible, potato head!! I don't want to be known as the sister of the guy who reaches last on his first day at college. GET UPP!!"
She dragged off the blankets off him and switched off the ac and fan.
"Why do u always do this to me di?" Amjad never called Farzana di unless he is annoyed, or it's always Farsa for him. He slowly rose himself and brushed away his hair from his face, now revealing a pair of groggy hazel brown eyes.
He hears Farzana's voice trail away that was humming her favourite nasheed as she headed for the kitchen.
Amjad P.O.V
College meant sharing lesser time sleeping and heaving a huge sigh, I freshened up and got into my favourite jeans and red tees and headed to the living room.
"Assalamualaikumm, Abba"
"Wlaikumassalam, Amju jan... late again for your first day of college?
"I'm sorry, abbu. I'll leave as soon as I eat something. Did you see ummi (mom)?"
"Hafza? Hafza?? Where are you? Amju is getting late, let's all have breakfast"
A visibly annoyed Ummi came in with hot steamy food and I was already feeling sorry to be stuffing it down my throat than savouring it.
"You're the best, Ummi!" I said, planting a kiss on her cheeks and her face grudgingly welcomed a smile.
Bismillah (in the name of Allah)
I ate my sandwich and drank my water in three gulps just like how Prophet Muhammed (sallalahualaihiwasallam) taught us to.
These were the tiny things I followed religiously from the sunnah of our prophet(s). I was all set to go and I went down stretching myself to see Abbu standing in the car park, with something barely covered behind him. Surely, can it be?
Oh my God.
Oh my God
Oh my God
It was. It was a brand new Karizma looking at me with its smooth texture.
"You have been an excellent student, and an excellent son. This will be my gift for you before you start college"
The bike I dreamt of. The celebrity that starred in all my wall posters! Before I knew it, I was tightly hugging my father, cherishing every second of this day.
"Jazhakallah kheir abba! There could be no better present than this!"
"Well, beta you gave me no choice" He laughed. "I don't fancy being summoned by the principal over a forever-late-to-class son"
Thanking my good fortune, I mounted my bike, feeling its handles. This is mine. Wow. It felt unreal to me. I looked up to thank God and saw Ummi looking down from the window instead. There can never be such a beautiful day like this in my life.
She smiled at me and waved, "Drive carefully, Amju!"
I was, in every sense obsessed with my new ride. Its smoothness, I tried maneuvering, and its speed transition simply never ceased to impress me. Whoa! I couldn't get any happier. Nothing else captured my interest except when my eyes caught hold of this school girl who stood out from the crowd at the bus stop. Only hijabi girl dressed among the lot, she couldn't be older than 11 or 12. And over time, I made it a habit to gaze at her through the 4 years of my college life, even though I never looked at her face.
Marjaan P.O.V
My favorite bike racing was on TV and I always found joy in enjoying it. Being a 12 year old Muslim girl didn't let many opportunities to indulge in bike craziness, but I settled with watching them race on TV. And the age gave me changes too, my body was changing and I was not allowed to play with boys anymore.
My mumma introduced me to hijab (headscarf) and told me that I was very precious and precious things are always covered and protected. Marjaan, my name meant either pearl or a precious gem, so when mumma said that I felt very precious indeed. And I knew hijab brought me closer to Allah.
It was time for school, and I switched off TV to get ready. I wore my white shirt, blue pinafore and the two new addictions; my white hijab and white pyjamas.
"Bayya! Get ready fast, we're getting late!"
"I'm ready to go jaan. Just got breakfast to go" he said, combing his hair.
Which meant another 3 minutes, I thought irritably. I always gave importance to time, every deadline, and each stroke of the clock's needle matters to me.
I kissed mumma goodbye and was waiting for my dad to say salaam while my brother ate his breakfast quickly.
There he was on the car porch, washing his santro car which he was very fond of. I went and hugged my daddy and only let go off him after my customary kiss.
"Ahh. My princess, you look so pretty in this hijab. I'm so proud of you Marjaan" kissing me back.
"Thank you daddy. I'm the only hijabi in my class" I beamed proudly.
That's when somebody called out to me.
"Marjaaniii. Come already!"
It was Afreen, my cousin and neighbor. I was older to her by a year and I took that responsibility seriously by watching over her in school, making sure no one messes with her. We went holding hands walking to the bus stop.
That's when my heart stopped. Impossble! A Karizma? For real? Nobody had one in the neighborhood and that too a yellow one. I was sure of it. Some skinny boy was riding it, and I knew I was drooling over his bike. He looked in my direction for a microsecond before he flashed by and I knew that I will wait for the yellow beast to past me every day.
True to my passion, I watched it pass by till 10th grade. I was too obsessed admiring the bike that I never really cared to notice who rode it, but nonetheless he brought a smile to my face.
--------------------------------------------
Did u all like this karizma ZMR bike??
Thanks for the likes votes and comments. ...
I hope you are all looking forward for Marjaan and Amjad growing up chapters. ..
Ome more thing to note
Marjaan is 12 and Amjad is 18 in this chapter
YOU ARE READING
MARJAAN- COMPLETE HALF OF MY DEEN (#YourStoryIndia) (#ProjectWomenUp)
Spiritual#7 in spiritual as on 4 January 2016 Marjaan Ahmed and Amjad Navas where destined to be husband and wife. Will love blossom between this couple or does fate has something else in store for them? Will they pass Allah's test Or will they fail tragic...
