Tantalizing Hopes

9. Paving Paths

Assalaamu alaikum warahmathullahi wabarakatuh!

I'm not going to be giving any excuse this time, just a heart felt apology for the extended delay. Sorry peeps! Truly am!

P.S Leave behind lottttss of comments to keep me motivated for quicker and more regular updates 😉

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"Tell the believing men to reduce (some) of their vision and guard their private parts. That is purer for them. Indeed, Allaah is Acquainted with what they do. And tell the believing women to reduce (some) of their vision and guard their private parts and not expose their adornment except that which (necessarily) appears thereof (i.e the face and hands)..."

[ An Nur : 31-32 ]

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He had been positively sure his sister was trying to set them up. It could not have meant anything else. All those indirect insinuations, dragging her name into almost all of their conversations, making sure to keep singing her praise, talking about her to her little daughter in his presence, forcing him to tag along whenever she visited Zahra or even just the locality her school was set in - all of it could not mean anything else but a sister who had set a cap of matchmaker on her head, assuming the role with utmost dedication and a steely resolve to finish what she has intended to start on.

The more he thought about it, the more he had been able to connect all the dots in his head with ease. It had all made sense to him, even the crazy parts and what was crazier was the fact that instead of feeling rage over what his sister had been doing behind his back, he had felt excitement bubbling inside his chest. He was easily able to see through stuff after his sister's plans had become transparent, and he would be an A class liar if he said he hadn't felt ease and relief following it. He had felt lighter, more joyful and happier at the prospect of being one step closer to finding his significant other half. Moreso, his gut feeling told him it was an aid from his Lord with his sister as a means.

Eagerness fused with hopeful admiration had flooded inside him at the thought of his sister trying to help him find what he wanted.

Now however, he wasn't sure if it were the case. Three weeks had passed successfully--or unsuccessfully if he were to choose the words himself--wihout any mention of a certain flower lady who puzzled him in more ways than one. Eshaal had stopped talking about her or even mentioning her name whenever he was around causing her to become more of an enigma because of how little he knew about her. It was almost as if she had never existed in the first place, all traces of her existence in their life wiped clean.

He was growing restless.

An oil tanker sounded a horn on the highway beside him, breaking his train of thoughts. Ibrahim pocketed his hands and furrowed his brows, observing the road that stretched ahead. He could go ahead and cross it and then pretend he had never even been here to begin with or he could just man up and take the road to his right, the road that may or may not lead him to what he had been waiting for the past few years of his life.

Another horn sounded and this time a shiny red car crossed him while he took a step back, raking a hand through his hair and wondering why he was beating himself over it.

Why on on earth was he so taken by her in the first place?

'Taken' was not even the word that was to be used when it came to her, he didn't know what was it that had to be used. It was sort of an unnamed emotion that he felt whenever he thought of her, a kind of peace that threatened to engulf his heart, a feeling of contentment that washed over his senses; a feeling of fulfilment.