AMRJ One Shots

True Thoughts and Feelings

Aunt Jerry's POV

How did my house, once so full with all my family around me, become so empty? Even when I used to be alone before, the day was spent preparing for everyone's return. One by one, they'd all come home and I'd be able to sleep peacefully. But now? I didn't have a right to worry about Suleiman. Maryam was busy with university. Javed was always out working. And my Yusuf was busy with his little family.

The highlight of my days were when Javed finally came home. But even then, it wasn't the same. I missed everyone's presence. I missed feeling complete. I knew this would happen. As soon as Safia came into our home, I knew this would happen. She wasn't the kind of girl who could live with us. Being all religious, she was bound to ask Yusuf to separate because of Javed living in the same household.

But how was I to tell my bearded, Alim son such a thing? He wanted nothing less than Safia's religious ways. I wasn't against it if it didn't break my family apart. I, too, was once somewhat similar to Safia. Naïve externally religious, kind of weak. Except Safia seemed more selfish and annoying.

But I wasn't the one breaking a family apart. In fact, they themselves broke us apart. After treating me worse than a slave, laughing at me, ridiculing me, what else were Suleiman and I supposed to do? After much convincing, we fled. Suleiman's family were angry with us so they cut communication. I was secretly glad that they did. It was better for my children to have no aunts or uncles than have them.

I started to stray from Islam, so Suleiman thought it would be good for us to go Hajj. We spent every penny we had and when we returned, we had nothing. Shortly after, I became pregnant. Suleiman and I got any job we could and spent hours working. That was when there was a huge impact on our relationship and our seep love began to fade. Our relationship never really stayed the same after that. When I decided to take my hijab off, Suleiman was beyond enraged.

"How can you do this?" He shouted at me. "You're supposed to be my honour!"

"Well I'm a working woman in an area full of non-Muslims! Do you know the kind of looks I get?" I responded.

"I don't care! You're a Muslim woman! Who cares what society thinks?"

"I care because we have to live here! And this was your idea."

"My idea because you couldn't get on with my family!"

"Don't put this all on me! They treated me worse than a dog!"

"Oh please! If you stopped with your 'woe is me, I'm a victim, I'm so wronged' sort of attitude, you'd see things weren't so bad."

"How dare you?" I stomped off, infuriated. In the end, I went along with not wearing a hijab and Suleiman couldn't force me to do so. The rest of my clothing remained modest. I wore baggy blouses and long skirts.

When Javed was born, I took a break from working and we had to rely on Suleiman's wages, which weren't too great. Alongside doing household chores and taking care of an infant, I was doing all of the finance, trying to save everything we could. It frightened me that Yusuf was going through something similar. Well he wouldn't have been doing so if his darn wife didn't insist on moving.

I always thought Yusuf would stay and Javed would get married and move away. It was one of the reasons I was a little more harsh towards him. When he'd stay out until late, I'd stay up to lecture him for I wouldn't be able to do so after he got married. He was also troubled, I could see that clearly. I tried my best with him and showed him more love than my other two children, hoping he'd change his ways and at least give up his bad company. He was a great son though, there was no doubt about it.