Forgiveness.

Chapter 17- M.J.

M.J.

Would it be an understatement if I say that I was freaking out? Sure I love adventure, but a runaway marriage was not exactly the type of experience I was looking for in life. Especially not like Ezzah had put it to be in her pep talk. I was a nervous wreck. Pacing like manic in my room in a mix of confusion that something worse will happen in the good I was looking forward to.

My father thought I had finally realized his point of view when I came back home today after that chaotic idea I had agreed to and told him if it helps to cure him of the virus that the Farku aunty has injected him up with, then sure I will wait while the truth was I was getting married tomorrow.

I was rubbing my head, pretty sure messing my hair along the way, but what did I care? I was freaking out like a crazy bull on steroids. My hairs are the last thing on my head. I chuckled, thinking about how that a funny. Wow, pun not intended.

Despite all sorts of positive stimulation inside my body, I felt half-hearted. Deep down, I knew how everything was going my way but not hers. At such moments not only did it felt like I was selfish, yet it also felt as if I was cruel in a way. Just a mere declaration of agreement from her would put me in a place where I could be at peace.

Only if she could say that she was happy, if not as much as I was, I would be fine, but no, what was happening right now just felt like Jeena was being pushed around by us all because she wanted to serve her brother's wishes and not her own.

When I was a kid and if I absolutely wanted something, I would have run up to my room and pull the prayer mat out only to start praying on it. In comparison to other people I have known, I used to believe I was blessed with Allah a little more because my prayers got granted right away.

Yet as time passed and I got more older. Ami told me, what I felt was not the real miracle. The real blessing was my intention towards my cause and the belief that I had on Allah about the fact that He will grant each and every desire that I have to happen before I even ask for it again.

And with time, I recognized that the belief part was not even my own. It came from the honesty I prayed with to Allah. I was praying at that time when I was desperate, and I did not doubt Allah even for a second without apprehending that it was the original case all along.

Desperation has a notion. If it leads a person to Allah, it remarkably does not matter where you stand because the end will always be better than what you expect it to be.

And with the same childish hope of getting my wishes accepted, I went on to pray Esha. By the time it was over, I had cupped my hands up and started the personal ranting session in the usual manner that I find it easy when conversing with Allah.

"Ya, Rabbi! I know I haven't been good. I haven't been active and enthusiastic in my prayers lately as I should be, and I am sorry. The greedy part of me only does that when it wants something, and who would know that better than You that today yet again, I want something. I wan it really bad." I took a deep breath before continuing.

"I love her, and tomorrow I am doing something that our Prophet Muhammad S.A.W encouraged us to do as it completes half of our deen. I am happy with her, so thank you," I chuckled slightly, knowing how lovesick I was, "but I do not know if she is." I clenched my jaws. Even that thought disturbed me to no end.

"What I am trying to say is, make her happy if she is not, and if she is, please tell me because I am dying off guilt here. She has suffered enough, but she does not like to complain because it hurts her to think about what she has lost, but I know every suffering has a better reason behind it, which we do not see, and maybe that is why I am not complaining about her suffering to You, and You know Allah how much of a cry baby I am over these things. Actually, over everything." I chuckled over at my stupid habits.