Regret

Ameerah’s point of view:

I slammed the door hard on my way out. I was so angry at him, I couldn’t control it. Why is he making so many excuses? Rage blinded me from even considering his point of view. No, he was totally wrong and I was obviously right. We have been together for three years almost, and I want to get married now, at least get engaged so that I am something more than a girlfriend to him. Girlfriend? I had always asked him to never call me his girlfriend. The word “girlfriend” seemed so unsuitable for a relationship that involved true love, or so I believed. Well, that is what the media, the movies these days made me believe. Girlfriend; an object of temporary satisfaction. When you get bored, you replace. This was one of the many reasons I had stopped watching romance movies. I relied on thriller and horror. I am a big fan of love stories, but not the kind displayed on television. It made me want to gag, what people believed love to be these days.

My relationship with Zarak was different. He loved me and cared about me. I felt secure with him. There was no danger of him making inappropriate moves. He never even tried anything like that with me. That was the reason I believed in him, believed that he was not just playing around, and was serious about me. But his words today had brought up a minor insecurity within me. I will definitely talk to me about it soon. Maybe, he was just tired and out of his mind. I dismissed these thoughts for now.

I reached home, and got out of the car. Aabira’s car was also parked outside. I wonder what’s wrong with her. She never takes that many leaves from her university. I needed to have a talk with her.

I went to my mom’s room. I asked the nurse how she was doing. “She just slept. Her blood pressure was really high since morning, and she was having a severe headache. Also her fever spiked up again.”

Oh no, mom! What have you been thinking about again? I had come to see her this morning before leaving, and she was much better at that time. I had hugged her and consoled her and told her not to worry again, and she seemed calmer than before. I told the nurse to go home and went to sit on the chair beside her bed. She looked so delicate and frail. She had lost a lot of weight and her cheeks had become hollow. There were dark circles under her eyes, and wrinkles that I never noticed before had appeared on the corner of her eyes. Creases formed on her forehead as she exhaled deeply. She blinked her eyes a few times and then turned her head to look at me.

“Ameerah,” she whispered lightly, and smiled.

“No mom, go back to sleep. I will be here when you wake up.”

She patted the space next to her on the bed. I got up and sat next to her, holding her hand in mine.

She tried to get up, and I adjusted the pillows behind her to rest her back.

“Mom, why do you worry so much? You were so calm and relaxed in the morning. What happened to you then? What were you thinking about? You scare me mom. I want you to get better now. Please stop worrying. Everything will be fine at the end. You will see.”

She nodded her head slightly, and smiled. “Nothing will be fine Ameerah. Don’t you understand? This is a period of trials. I am being tested. I try hard,” her voice broke, and a single tear slipped her tired eyes, “I try hard not to think about it, not to worry, to not care, but it is eating me away. Your father’s face appears before my eyes the moment I close my eyes. We have been together for thirty years Ameerah. Thirty years is a long long time. I love him. I have always loved him. But I never loved him more than my own self.” She broke down and started crying uncontrollably.

“Mom please, stop talking. You did nothing wrong. He is the one that never loved you. He cheated on you. Why are you blaming yourself? Just stop crying, please.” I stroked her shoulder as a few tears escaped my own eyes and I quickly rubbed them away.

She tried to control herself, as she started again. “I loved my own needs more than him. He gave me everything I asked for Ameerah. I asked for a separate house after marriage, and he bought me one. I separated him from his old parents, who had no one other than their one son. I asked for a bigger house after a few years, and he bought me that. He kept working hard, and struggling and I kept asking for more.

He was not always like that. He was close to Allah. We were neighbors before marriage and his parents had asked for my hand. My parents had said yes. As you already know, I didn’t belong to a rich background. What we earned, we spent. We never saved and never bought anything that wasn’t utterly important. Your dad had just started his business at that time, but when it started to flourish, I became greedy. I wanted all those things that I didn’t have before. He was a simple man, but my demands made him want to earn more and more every day.” Tears constantly flowed in a continuous stream from her eyes, and she kept wiping them away.

“I took him away from Allah. He became ambitious and spend most of his time working and worrying. The calmness he had before when he had less, had now gone from his eyes, when he earned more. The serenity had gone, and stress took its place.

Hand me that golden box from the upper shelf of the first cupboard,” she pointed towards the cupboard. I got up and handed her the box.

She opened it. There was a Quran in it, wrapped in a red velvet cloth. She smiled happily, looking at it.

“He gave this as a present to me some days after marriage. He said that people usually give love letters to each other, but my letter to you is already present in the Quran. He had highlighted all those Ayahs that explained about the love between the husband and wife and their rights over each other. He said that Allah had already written our love letter in the Quran.” She ran her fingers lovingly on the cloth. A few tears fell on the red cloth and she closed the box and kept it on the pillow next to her.

I felt the pain of my throat closing up, and I inhaled deeply to hold back my tears. Now, that was the kind of love that I was talking about.

“At first, he listened to everything I said, but then we started to have arguments that turned into huge fights resulting in us not talking to each other for days. As the pressure on him increased, he stopped praying slowly. The Quran he used to read every day in the morning just lay there untouched and forgotten. I was not a good Muslim even before, but I used to pray with him when he used to ask me too. When he stopped, I stopped too. Worry lines started to appear on his forehead, and he looked older than he was. But Ameerah, I overlooked everything. I ignored it all. I am a selfish woman driven by her selfish desires and needs. I was blinded by the shine of the gold and diamonds that I bought, and the expensive branded clothes I wore to hide my lowly self. The huge malls that only wealthy people could set foot in became my pride.”

“It destroyed me Ameerah, and it destroyed your dad. I tried to buy myself a better life with all that money, and all it did was slowly push me towards this. I have nothing to give to my heart today. It demands peace and happiness, and I don’t have any. I only have guilt and regret and this urge to turn back time. If only I had done things differently, Ya Allah, if only I had not betrayed myself with temporary fake contentment. If only I had not been a slave to my nafs, and had been Your true slave.”

She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. I hugged her tightly, as my own tears began flowing.

“Mom, just please control yourself. You should rest. Stop thinking about the past, and stop worrying yourself so much.” I wiped her tears and poured her a glass of water from the side table. She drank it and calmed down a little.

“You know Ameerah, once we went to this village to meet an old friend of your dad, Hamza. He had a small house with a single room, a tiny kitchen, and an even tinier bathroom. It was in the middle of the village, and there was no electricity most of the time that we were there. They had big pots made of clay to keep the water cool, and it was really hot. I kept nudging your dad for wanting to leave the whole time. His wife was so sweet that she kept talking to me continuously when she realized that I was bored and annoyed, even when I showed that I was not interested. They looked so satisfied and content in that tiny space that they called home that I envied them. I hated them for that. I wanted to get out of that place as soon as I set foot there.

On our way home, I said to your dad that I felt pity on them for having such a pathetic life. Your dad laughed and told me that the big white house that we usually passed and I liked a lot, on the 23rd street was actually theirs. They were living in the village for the time being as they were constructing a school and a Madrassa there. I was stunned. They had left the luxuries of their huge house to live in that mess. How could someone “choose” that? People that were poor, born in that village had no choice, but they did. Yet, they chose that deprived life. When I asked your dad “Why?” in a shocked voice, he answered, “What do you mean, why? To please Allah, of course. May Allah accept their deeds and reward them.” I concluded them to be stupid to cover up the envy that I felt. But today, when I feel this helplessness inside me, I remember their happy faces and wish to be in their place. If only I knew then.”

She shook her head slightly and wiped her face with her hands.

I looked at her and felt the weakness that she felt, not being able to turn things around and make everything right was an immense weight on a person, especially if most of what he has done is wrong.

“I feel sleepy,” she said and rubbed her eyes. She kissed my forehead and cupped my face in her hands. “I love you both so much. Where is Aabira? The nurse told me she came to see me when I was sleeping. She has become so weak. She worries a lot. Talk to her and tell her not to worry and ask her to come see meet me when I wake up.”

“Okay mom. Just rest now, and don’t think too much now. You have to get better for us. I love you too mom,” I kissed her hand and adjusted the pillows for her to lie down. She closed her eyes and I left the room, closing the door behind me. I went to my room to keep my bag and books, when I heard Aabira scream from the next room.