Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Perfect Strangers - Part Three



… … She’s always been a princess. Pampered lush extravagant girl who is taken care of starting from her hair-style down to the pedicure on her feet. This was before the hijab. But even after she came close to Islam, she wanted plush and lush and poshness. Once a princess always a princess, she’d later tell her daughter.

As days went by, this Cinderella had a child and then another, and then another. Before she could catch the next lip-gloss fab, she found herself on her knees giving the tiles a good scrub, while the food cooks on medium heat while the baby takes his afternoon nap before her husband comes back from his political meeting right after she has a minute to steal a quick shower so he doesn’t smell the lingering onion or garlic on her clothes.

Worn down hard by domestic reality, this princess had no spirit left in her to listen to poetry at the end of her tiresome day, nor did she care about the world’s situation nor today’s news or ways to get involved in the community. If anything, she would attend halaqas – she’d choose the ones that offered an extra few minutes after the lesson to socialize or notice each other’s new shoes, shirt, hijab or purse.

At times, she’d catch the new Arabic series on her satellite dish but before all of this, she made sure the kids were fed and rested, the house is spotless, her looks in place and the rest mattered less and less and less. He takes care of their minds, she’d say, and I’ll take care of their physical needs.

In this spirit of discipline to her role as wife and mother, she sensed that her life was a sacrifice. One sacrifice. After another. To her children and husband but Islam kept her intact like a sedative she needed. Islam saved her from pain so big if she felt it the world would crumble, thirty years worth of crumbles.

How come he’s not close to Islam? She didn’t like that in him. No matter how much he reads that poetry of his or engages in the question of injustice towards his people, or raises his political community to higher social action, it all doesn’t matter, she’d later tell her daughter, if he doesn’t pray.

So she prayed for him. And prayed and fasted and read the Qur’an and listened to halaqas. And then it was time for him to die. So she said, “ it’s all from Allah. I must accept it”.

Who can say if it’s right or wrong for two people to live like perfect strangers in marriage?

when my
mama asks me will
it change?
I say yeah but it
Could always be the
Until the end of time
until the
End of time



Anonymous said...

I must say, you are an amazing writer. Ever thought of publishing a novel?

questfortherightone.blogspot.com said...

... did cross my mind. then uncrossed it, cuz i don't know any publishers. one day, maybe. thanks though...


Hijabis On Ranting Tour. said...

ww did you write tht?
its great
is tht the end? :(