A Promise | 🗸

20 | grateful

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20

I looked into the mirror. I had gotten so pale and almost twig-like.

According to my Diary, this is what I wanted to look like

Sep 9, 2020 (Weeks before the incident)

I had gained a total of 6 pounds in 2 weeks. I knew it was the daily Starbucks runs. But once I was there, I could not stop by myself. Not only the Starbucks, but I had stopped dieting, I mean, I was eating healthy-ish, but that wasn't enough when it came to losing weight. When I was walking to work yesterday, I saw this beautiful girl. Tall, pale, and as skinny as a twig. Her body was perfect. I was so envious. She walked in her Beige trench coat and Black Booties with such grace and elegance. I wish I looked like that. I hated my body so much. I hated the chubby thighs that would cling together when I sat, my flabby arms that would fly when I waved, not to mention my circular stomach that would stick to my clothes.

I hated it. Why did Allah give me such an ugly body?

What did I do to deserve this?

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That was what I thought a mere couple of weeks ago. That is me now. My skin was deathly pale, no sign of life on my skin, I touched my stomach, and all I could feel was bones. I looked like a skeleton. Whenever someone would look at me, their eyes would fill with pity. Some would even look at my body with disgust others would tell me to eat more Biryani and Aloo to gain weight. Overall I had lost nearly 20 pounds in 2 weeks. Past me would've been so happy. But now that I looked at myself, I hated it. I looked ill and on the brink of death. I wanted my old body back. The body that I frequently criticized and would do anything to change. At Least that body was healthy and looked alive.

I was so ungrateful. Allah (SWT) had created me and made me himself. He molded my body out of clay and blessed me with a healthy body.

"We created man from sounding clay, from mud molded into shape..." (15:26)

"He began the creation of man from clay and made his progeny from a quintessence of fluid" (32:7-8)

How beautiful is that? Yet I still was ungrateful. I had a perfectly working heart, lungs, eyes, everything! I even have a chance to regain my memory!

Alhamdulillah.

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I walked downstairs to see Bhai and Baba talking.

"Are you sure they haven't found him?"

"Yes, Baba, they looked everywhere, but it looks like he fled," Bhai said, tugging his hair visibly frustrated.

"Robinson fled!?"I asked shocked

That means he could be anywhere.

"Haye Beta! Don't scare us like that," Baba scolded.

Robinson was anywhere.
He could be outside my house right now. At that thought, I quickly looked out my window. I sighed in relief when all I saw was trees.

"Hey, don't worry, we'll make sure he never comes near you again, but in the meantime, you're not leaving the house by yourself," Bhai said.

I agreed because I was frightened. He could be anywhere. He could be plotting my murder right now.

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It was past dinner, and Zara was doing Bhabi, and I's Mehndi. There was absolutely no occasion, but we were just so bored. Zara was a very talented Mehndi artist, something I was very jealous of. Bhabi even let her do her Wedding Mehndi along with the other guests.

"Zara, can you recreate the design you did on my wedding?" Bhabi asked, pulling out her phone and showing her the design.

"You want all of that? It took her like 3 hours." I asked. Wedding Mehndi takes forever! I have no clue how brides sit still for the long.

"No, just do the palm."

"Even the Hidden initials," Zara asked.

One of my favorite traditions for wedding Mehndi is hiding the groom's initials in the design and making them find it after the wedding. It's such a cute tradition. It makes me want to get married, but then I realize after that it goes downhill.

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Zara finished up Bhabi's Mehndi, and she went home, promising she'll let us know Bhai's reaction to finding the initials. Currently, Zara was doing my Mehndi. I had given her a relatively simple design.

"Appi," Zara called, still focused on my hand.

"Mhm"

"When will you get married," Zara asked in a teasing tone.

"Why?" It wasn't the first time Zara asked me this, but there was always a reason.

"I wanna do your wedding Mehndi" She responded bluntly.

"I don't need to get married for you to do that," I responded.

"But I also want to be a Khala," She whined.

"You'll be a Fupi Inshallah."

Before we could continue, she put the Mehndi cone and said, "Done."

I looked at the design. My hands had little intricate floral designs, all the way up to my forearm. The coldness of the Mehndi gave a weird tingling sensation on my skin. But it was all so beautiful. The aromatic smell of the Mehndi was so pungent.

"Mashallah! Zara, I love it!!" I said, hugging her without smudging her hard work.

"Habibti's go to sleep," Mama yelled from upstairs. We both giggled and went upstairs.

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