Uncover My Veil of Shame

|ten|

كُلٌّ لَّهُ قَانِتُونَ
All are subservient unto Him
[Al-Baqara - 2:116]

"HIS PAST"

[7 years ago]

Its strange how we put on mask to avoid pity. Or to show how strong we are whilst its just a cover for a collapsed soul. We show that we trust each other whilst on the inside, its crumbled like paper.

This was the case with Haaris.
So strong and youthful, yet so fragile and mature.

His laugh could light up the city, and his frown could shatter the sky.

Much happened in his life, but with grace and by the help of the Almighty, he limped through it all. Yet some part of him was lost between the way.

At the age of 22, on a cold December night, Haaris came home to his parents for approval.

His face was lit with excitement, as if he won the lottery.

"Baba, I know that I'm saying this after its due time, but I have something important to discuss."

Haaris' father looked at his wife, confused.

"Mamma knew everything about it, I've been telling her."

"Telling her what?" his father asked.

Haaris and his mother were more like friends. Best friends. She knew almost everything about him. He was the most adored one. Every little secret was known by her, she even fed him with her own hands as if he's still a toddler.

That's a mother's love, her children can never seem grown up. They're just her little kids, still learning and innocent.

"Baba, I don't know if you have any plans for my future. And I too didn't have any. But as you say, things come up when you least expect them to,"
Haaris cleared his throat.
"There's this girl that I met at college 6 months ago. She's a good girl. She-"
his words vanished into the air.

There was a pause.

His mother came to his rescue, "Her name is Aleena, means Silk of Heaven," she said with a smile. "Your son has given her his heart."

"Is this true Haaris? Have you been in a relationship with her this whole time?" his father asked, suddenly serious.

"No baba. You know me, I would never commit to a relationship because its not my goal."

"Tell me more about her, her family."

"She's perfect baba. I haven't seen her face, she's in niqab. I guess I radiated towards her beautiful character. I shared my side of the story, I told her that I wanted to bring my parents to her home. She hesitated to speak but felt the same. For six months she was convincing her parents for me. We haven't spoken at all, I just want to start my love story after nikkah. And about her family-"

Haaris went on, speaking about her with so much of passion, that even his father was intrigued.

By the time he concluded, his father's words escalated the beautiful ambiance.

"I'm so proud of you Haaris. I'm so proud that my son has chosen this path, without any secrecy nor any haram act. We as muslims should always have good intentions in our heart, because they are the start of a magnificent path."

Hearing these words from his father were more than approval.

Wedding bells were heard in the next 2 months.

A wedding with 20 people. Knowing Haaris, he wanted to do it in the most simplest of ways.

He and Aleena made nikkah in the nearby mosque, and were due to have a family dinner the next day.
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Haaris came into his room, which was decorated like a bride itself. Red roses hung from the ceiling, some scattered on the floor and some in a heart-shape on the bed. Little candle lights were arranged so specifically and made the room light like a dark haven.

And there she was, Aleena. Sitting amidst rose petals on the bed. She was all red: the dress, the bangles, the henna. And a red veil covered her head and hung loosely over her face.

There is a Pakistani tradition where the groom gives a gift to his new bride after seeing her face following nikkah. They usually lift up the veil, say some sweet words and then hand down her first gift.

Aleena was sitting, nervously.
Haaris had never seen her face before. She wanted to impress him, to not let any 'hopes' down.

Haaris sat down, made salaam and said "Mubarak".
Aleena replied with "Khair Mubarak."

They exchange a laugh, and it was time for Haaris to pick up the veil, to see his bride, his Silk of Heaven.

He held the gold embroidered red dupatta, said "Bismillah" and lifted the veil.