Halal Kind Of Love

Chapter 01

Notebooks scattered all over my desk as I tried to colour-code each one by their respective subjects. I bought at least 50 different pens and pencils just in case, I wouldn't want to be asking anyone for anything especially not during tests. 

Looking at my reflection in the mirror "This isn't too much is it? Hmm....nah", I laughed shoving all my supplies into my backpack. I made sure to put my laptop in there as well, lord knows how many times I forgot it back in highschool. 

"Mina! Come down here and help me!", Baba yelled from the kitchen. 

Throwing my backpack to the side I yelled back "Yes baba one second!", call me bob the builder because I sure do fix everything in this house. God, I made the mistake of fixing Baba's watch once, and now he thinks he raised an engineer.

Running down the stairs and into the kitchen, baba stood there trying to paint the far corners of the walls. It's a special occasion considering he's going to be married in just under a month. 

Nosey strangers used always ask me about who baba was getting married to especially those who did not know about my family situation. Count on the Arab community to shove their noses into everyone else's business, they had the audacity to ask if my dad was marrying a second wife. No he's not! My mom had passed away quite awhile back so it made sense he would get remarried.

At first I was angry and felt betrayed at the thought of my dad marrying someone after my mom had passed. 'How could he marry someone else? Does he not love my mom enough not to?' But I quickly rationalized my thinking by mentioning how everyone deserves to be happy and accompanied by another.

Tying my long brown hair into a pony tail, I rolled up my sleeves "Baba I'll do these to walls and you do those ones so it will be done faster", pointing whilst grabbing a paint brush.

I bathed the walls in white paint. 

Baba sighed, "I wish your brothers were as helpful as you. All they do is lay lazily on their butts and play their computer games", and before you ask no, my household isn't sexist at all, but for some reason my brothers can't clean correctly. Whenever they clean it just gets dirtier, somehow.

"Mina today I'm going to make rice with bamiya do you want me to make you brown rice on the side?", He's so considerate knowing I'm on a diet. "Baba don't tire yourself out, I'll make the brown rice for myself", I smiled sliding the paint brush up and down.

"No it's not tiring at all", he laughed wiping the sweat off his forehead.

He always works so hard, but stresses so much. I wish he would relax and stop overthinking everything, its turning him grey.

After finishing up the walls I took off to take a shower.

It the end of my shower a loud banging at the door almost made my soul jump. "Mina get out of the washroom! I'm going out with my friends so hurry up!", it was my older brother Imad. 

Groaning angrily, "Can you wait? I'm putting on my clothes!", I yelled quite annoyed. He takes years in the washroom but when I spend a couple of minutes suddenly the world is going to end.

Twisting the knob, I opened the door and walked out. "Ask Allah for some patience will you?", i sneered flipping my long wet hair at him. 

I grabbed my brush and tried to tame my hair as much as possible.

Before I could finish, my phone started to ring catching my attention .

CALLER ID: RIMA HAMZA

Of course it was a Whatsapp call. we called it the app where all brown people get their news from. You have a broken leg? Dying of cancer? Drowning? Worry no more, eat at least 1 teaspoon of honey at night and you'll wake up cured! If you couldn't tell by now, I'm being sarcastic.

"Hey girlie", I said turning the speaker on, I have to multitask. 

A loud fake cry vibrated my entire desk "Mina! Hii I miss your ugly face!", Rima whined a bit excitedly. 

"Ugly? Are you sure you're not looking in a mirror?", I teased back.  She laughed yelling a "Hey!", we both knew none of us were ugly though.

She went quite for a few seconds, continuing on "So college starts tomorrow, I'm so mad we're not going to the same college", she sighed. 

I rolled my eyes "And who's fault is it that one of us decided to move to another city?", I taunted brushing through my wet hair. 

"It's not my fault! I got married and needed a new house", she shot back. "True you got to have a big house to be able to pop out some babies", I snorted. "Mina! Stop! He'll hear you! Anyways I have to go wash up and go to sleep, I'll text you tomorrow!", she announced. We bid our goodbyes before hanging up.

Initially, when she said she was moving I broke down. I have zero friends living here. My neighborhood is filled with not so great people so I never bothered making friends with any of them. That and a bunch of them are either alcoholics or druggies.

To pass time, I watched a couple of episodes from my favourite TV show until I dozed off and headed to bed.

My mind swarmed with thoughts about what college would be like, to me school is the earth version of judgement day.  A lot of Muslims at my former high school constantly had their own distasteful opinions on how I dressed and what I put on my face.  Their comments varied from 'Isn't she Muslim? Why does she wear makeup then?' to 'Look at what she's wearing, does she not fear Allah?' I was wearing shirts long enough to me knees. How much longer do you want them to be?

So would college be any different? I sure hope so.

To be fair, there are those who are judgmental and those who mind their own business. They all had their own groups, as for Rima and I we were the outcasts That's how we bonded.

I read a couple of verses of the Quran to be sure not shaytan decides to drag me to hell or even under my bed. I'm only kidding of course! It's good for the soul for one to read Quran before bed.

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Authors Note: For my non Arabic readers; Baba means dad, Quran is the Islamic holy book. And shaytan means the devil.