1. This story was written injunction with a series on the blog about dealing with Polygyny which I shall revamp. 2. If Polygyny bothers you then please view all the other articles I have written on this blog. 3. I apologize in advance if you don't like the unedited rough cuts. Feel free to edit and send me the copy of my work :) 4. Have fun! It's just a story that I hope can be a benefit. 5. Please do not copy my story without written permission. I ask that you fear your Creator. Taking my article and claiming it as yours or featuring it on your site without my permission is stealing. People that steal are called thieves. If you aren't a thief then please remain from taking my hard work ![]() "Please stop talking and cut the lights off! It's bedtime" Amatullaah yelled from her bedroom with much authority. This was the only time she could squeeze in anytime for herself and there was no room to share the space. "Ummi just five more minutes!" A tiny voice responded back. "Laa, IttaqulLaah habeebee!” Everyone knew that once she spoke Arabic she was dead serious and there was no room, what-so-ever for any argument. “Yes, ma’am” was the weak reply. Five seconds later the lights went out and she sat there waiting for her son to ask another question or make another excuse as to why he needed to stay up. Yet, to her surprise, there were no questions and only quiet. Staring at the satin trim on her robe, she started to contemplate whether she was going to be able to complete her Arabic course. No doubt, she had the desire and the drive, but did she really have the time? Shaking her head at her own thoughts she rubbed the trim gently. Amatullaah wasn't the kind of wife that worked outside the home. She was a stay at home mom and she had a lot of dreams. Every day she was working on something new. From her sewing projects to her canning business, there was something always going on. But she was dreadfully inconsistent. She would start her new idea and leave it hanging by the end of the week. The canning materials were sitting under the sink collecting dust and the sewing machine was meeting the same fate. Nonetheless, one thing was consistent: She loved her husband. Even though she loved her husband, she felt as though she didn’t really have time for him like she used to. The hustle and hassle of her studies, her children, and household responsibilities got in the way. Little did she know her husband had stopped feeling the love for a while now. Amatullaah suspected this but had little time in her life to actually acknowledge it. Was it truly realistic to spend every second chasing her husband and babying him? Rolling her eyes at her own question, she shook her head. There was no way she could and still take care of everyone else. They spent their days calculating expenses and recalling why child number one was having difficulties in public school while the other child was in homeschool. They never really talked to each other like they use to. It wasn't how it used to be when they first got married and she knew this. She used to spend her time catering to his every need and desire. However, in the present moment, her time was divided. Amatullaah barely had any time for her own self and her own dreams. Deeply sighing she took her attention off of her satin trim. “Focus Amatullaah!” it was time to get her mind back into full Arabic mode. The reality was, there was no break for her, never any gap that would suggest she could be selfish and focus on her let alone her husband. Feeling overwhelmed, she logged on to Munir's computer. The family computer was in the shop and he was kind enough to leave it behind for tonight. It was awfully late, but there was no other time like now to focus on Arabic. Life was happening too fast and too loudly to have class in the daytime. It took so much effort to attend at night that she had to fight herself not to quit. Typing in the password to the computer, Amatullaah was feeling drained. And there it was an open e-mail on the screen. Not really concerned about it, she figured it was from one of his students. Another student arguing about another grade, they felt that they did not deserve. Before hitting the ‘x’ to close it out, the Arabic caught her eye. Bismillaah As salaamu alaykum Brother Munir I am very excited about the wedding. My Wakil said to call him tomorrow so he can discuss the time we shall sit-down at the Masjid. Give all the kids hugs and kisses for me!!! I can’t wait to meet them. JZK Aisha .........as if she saw something disgusting, she slammed the laptop closed without thinking. Gasping for air she stood up and pushed away from the table in disbelief. The chair which was under her small frame flew across the room. The wheels on the ergonomic chair whirled like an engine revving as it was going around. Munir? My husband? No! It can't be her mind screamed. But it was true. Amatullaah never saw her coming.
2 Comments
|
About Me🌸Digital artist, children’s book illustrator, planner & journaling enthusiast 🌸 Archives
April 2021
Categories
All
|