Chapter 13: Crinkling emotions

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"Allah, may He be exalted, says: 'There are three whose opponent I shall be on the Day of Resurrection ... [One of whom is] a man who hired a worker and availed himself of his labour to the fullest extent, but did not give him his wages.'"

[Narrated by al-Bukhaari, 2270.]


Chapter 13:

Crinkling emotions


Rufaida walked from the bus stop to the villa, as was routine from the past week. When her mum's friend's friend had rung her up, introducing herself as the mother of Zara, an eleven-year-old who was selected by an internationally acclaimed organization to pitch her nutrition-related project to a renowned jury, Rufaida had immediately agreed to help.

The competition was in the next two days and Rufaida was working incredibly hard to ensure she put up a good show. Zara was just eleven but she was extremely talented, and seeing her hard work, Rufaida was challenging her limits to do better. And with the way Rufaida was working for it, juggling hospital shifts and pulling all-nighters, you'd think it was her project. Her level of dedication was something else.

Every day after finishing her duty, Rufaida would take the bus to come to their house, help Zara, then go home, help her mum with chores, continue working on this project until late in the night, and the same cycle would repeat every day.

That day, being her last, as Rufaida gave finishing touches, Saima, Zara's mum said, "How I wish we had found you earlier, Rufaida. You've made our lives so easy. Please keep in mind all the hours and efforts you've put in, you've been working night and day."

"It's alright, I'm glad I could help," Rufaida smiled, working on Zara's laptop as she edited her PPT. Rufaida had helped Zara prepare two speeches that she would be presenting on the main day, you could say she had planned the whole of the presentation for her and come up with a 3 D model of her idea. Zara's project was to do with Public Health Nutrition where young children in villages were taught about healthy eating. While things like My Plate were scientific concepts, she had given it a unique twist of her own, to make it personal and practical.

"I can see this project has worn you out," Saima commented. "You look visibly drained," she noted, the dark circles around her eyes obvious, and her skin dull.

"This project was demanding," Rufaida agreed. "It would be different had you approached me earlier, we could have worked things out at our pace instead of this last-minute rush."

"I know, my apologies. Zara was allotted a guide but she turned out to be one lazy lady. We're paying her a five-digit figure, and you're doing her entire job," she commented. "How I wish people these days were more God fearing, they don't understand they're accountable for the money they take."

Rufaida agreed to the statement, rethinking about some of her seniors in the hospital who made the freshers do their entire work and then took credit for it. But as taxing as it was, Rufaida had enjoyed working with Saima. Sure, it was more of a paid, professional project, but along the way, they had become like family. Saima spoke so much about Islam, and discussed topics that Rufaida believed in, it was a pleasure to work with them. In fact, there was a time Saima had told Rufaida how she had started seeing her as her second daughter.

Drawing her attention to her, Saima said, "People quote before they undertake work, and look at you, you've been selflessly working so hard without once talking about the money. But Rufaida, since today is the last day, please let me know of your charges. Although I'll say it again, we hope to be of help to you in the future, no words can express how thankful I am for what you've done for us."

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