The night was moonless with some stars shimmering in the airspace. It was cold and breezy with some signs of rain, but it hadn't rained yet. Zoya sat, staring off into the darkness of the cerulean sky. She recalled the story of Prophet Ibrahim and how he discovered the answer to everything.

Though, it was magical. The beauty of the different layers of the sky with hidden colours we don't take notice of. The effortless beauty of a flowing river itself was magnificent enough. How could that have made itself? How were the atheists capable of assuming that? Zoya didn't know, but she was glad to know her creator and his creations.

"Zoya, Naimat is here!" Zoya's mother called out to her. Zoya broke out of her trance and jumped off the couch to greet her lovely friend.

Naimat and Zoya were friends for a long time and now they were in Uni!

Subhan Allah, the way Allah only strengthened their bond more and more each day was amazing. Zoya jogged to the living room only to get tackled onto the ground by her soul sister.

"As' salamu Alaykum Zoe! Allah, I haven't seen you in forever!" Naimat squealed. Zoya giggled, wrapping her arms tightly around Naimat.

"Wa' Alaykum salam! I missed you so much, Naim! How was Italy?" Zoya asked, still not letting her arms unwrap. Instead, they just tightened. Zoya and Naimat were the ultimate best friend goals.

"It was stunning! I can't wait for us to go back to Uni. We'll finally get done with our courses. You're going to be a fabulous Cardiologist, and I'm going to be a fantabulous teacher," Naimat excitingly announced.

Zoya laughed at the never-ending enthusiasm and nodded in agreement. The girls pulled away from the hug, standing to walk towards Zoya's bedroom. Zoya served cookies, and Naimat happily dug in, emptying the plate in seconds.

"I have so much to tell you!"

From there began the girly chit chats. Zoya listened attentively as Naimat explained the scary feeling of being close to The Leaning Tower of Pisa. Naimat talked about the historic hotels in Venice and the trouble of not finding a spray in the toilets.

"There's something more I have to tell you." Naimat's lips twisted into a shy smile as she stared at her lap. Zoya grew suspicious, then asked for the news.

"Well, Baba thinks I'm capable of marriage, and tomorrow the boy and his family are coming over to see me." Zoya's eyes almost popped out, her jaw dropped in shock as she gasped. Zoya bounces up and down on the bed, thrilled with hearing such news.

"Oh my Allah!"

"I think I'm dreaming!"

"Oh my Allah!"

Zoya pulled Naimat into a warm embrace. Naimat giggled hugging her back.

"But I'm scared Zoe," Naimat mumbled, pulling away from the embrace. Zoya laid flat on her tummy as she bit her lip in worry.

"Why?" Zoya questioned because in all honesty, why? She didn't see a reason to be afraid. Marriage was Allah's gift to us human beings and it completed half of our deen.

"What if he's just not the right guy?" Zoya frowned as she saw Naimat's crinkled forehead.

"Naimat, Allah is Al Muhaymin, our guardian. Trust him. He does everything for a reason." Zoya wasn't good with words. All that mattered to her was the frown on Naimat's lips, and she didn't like it. She had to make it better.

Naimat nodded, her brown eyes gleaming. A while later after talking their hearts out, Naimat stood to leave. Zoya and her bid their goodbyes and then Zoya flopped on the comfy bed. Tomorrow, her best friend was going to meet a guy who could be her potential husband. That was insane! Zoya hoped he was a good man because Naimat deserved every happiness in the world.

She was positive the guy would like her because what's there not to like? Naimat was a gorgeous girl, inside out. She possessed a charismatic personality, jolly and funny. She was talented, without a doubt and most importantly, her relationship with Allah was beautiful. She trusted Allah and accepted every obstacle coming her way.

Naimat Ali Farooq was one in a million.

Suddenly the Isha adhan echoed, and Zoya jogged to the washroom, making her wudu attentively. Zoya disliked laziness in deen. Were the humans supposed to be lazy when they could just be inches away from Jannah? No, it was unacceptable.

Once Zoya tied her hijab, making sure no brown piece lingered out, she splayed the praying mat on the marble floor. Before she started, her mother, Mariam, ran in with droplets of water dripping from her elbows and chin, a hijab beautifully tied on her head.

"Let's pray, Zoe."

The happiness brimming in Zoya's heart at that moment couldn't be described. She was so grateful to Allah for her crazy, lovable family altogether. Baba and mama were her light, and her sibling, Bilal, was half her spirit. They were pure blessings Allah had showered her with.

The two ladies stood, shoulder to shoulder, feet to feet, and began reciting their Surahs. Zoya felt tranquillity fill her heart, and her chest didn't feel as heavy with the guilt anymore. Standing in front of Allah was an honour.

How cool was that? Being able to communicate with your creator felt unbelievable. Did He need to hear us complain about our lives? Of course not. He gifted us prayer for our benefit, so we could empty our hearts of the discontent and sadness.

Being in sujood was the best part. Zoya loved giving into the will of Allah and submitting to her Lord. Zoya didn't pray because her parents told her to from the very beginning; she didn't pray because she was in a habit of doing so: Zoya prayed because Salah was her answer.

Prayer was all the answer to Zoya's unsaid problems. It cleared her head and dissolved her fears.

Allah listened, and he understood the reason behind every tear, every sob, every smile and every unvocalized problem. He was there, always. People just neglected him being there.

Zoya finished her prayer and proceeded to read Ayat-Al-Kursi and then recite the daily dhikr, which helped a lot to calm her nerves.

As Zoya put her hands together to speak to Allah, she felt this sudden urge to just cry. Whenever she was making Dua'a, she just felt her heart become heavy. She didn't know the reason behind it, but she felt obligated to let Allah know how much she appreciated his blessings and mercy upon her.

Tears dropped on her pale cheeks as she repeatedly mumbled, 'Allahu Akbar." Then she began spilling her heart out to Allah, telling him how bad she felt for making mistakes and committing sins, pleading for his forgiveness and begging for Jannat-Ul-Firdous.

She knew Allah listened. And that's what caused her heart to race and her eyes to well up with more unshed tears. She loved Allah immensely, and she hoped Allah accepted her ways to please Him. Although Allah always knew every situation Zoya was in, Zoya liked talking about the things happening in her life. Things she couldn't say to anyone but her Lord.

Zoya began narrating the incident with the injured man to Allah and how she didn't want that jacket. She talked about the scent and how Shaytan, but she rejected the urges and removed it as soon as she got home.

Zoya also prayed for Naimat's good fate with a good man who'd protect and love her. Then Zoya prayed for a pious, loving man for herself. She pleaded for a future with a man who was deeply in love with Allah and who'd bring her closer to her Lord. Though she didn't want good looks or wealth, Zoya wanted him to enjoy his religion and love her based on it.

A relationship like Rasulullah (s.a.w) and Khadijah (r) was what she dreamt of having.

She jolted at the sudden sound of her phone ringing. Sighing in annoyance at the person for disturbing her and Allah's conversation, she simply picked the phone from her bed, answering it.

"As' salamu alaykum!" Naimat's voice erupted through the speaker.

"Wa' alaykumu salam, are you okay?" Zoya asked.

"Alhamdulillah, I'm perfect. I forgot to tell you something important." Zoya's eyebrows furrowed worriedly.

"What?" Zoya muttered.

"You have to be there tomorrow."

Zoya officially wanted to strap herself into a box and ship it to Poland where some bear would munch her up. She bit her lip as the panic began to set in.

Zoya disliked sitting in a gathering where she barely knew anyone. She wasn't a very social person, not at all. She was awkward and every bad thing out there.

"Naim..." Zoya whispered.

"Zoe..." Naimat teased.

"Naim, I can't-"

"I'm not asking you. You have to be there," Naimat commanded.

"Naim, you know how awkward I get. I don't want to be there, please," Zoya was now pleading Naimat, but she was well aware that Naimat wouldn't agree. Naimat was stubborn.

"Zoe, that guy and his family could be my new family. I want you to be there. How will I enjoy a happy day without you? Please Zoe, for me," Naimat was using the emotional tone which hit Zoya right in the heart.

Naimat was right though. Zoya and her were best friends from the very beginning of their lives. If Zoya wasn't going to be there, it'll be incomplete. Zoya realized that if she was to be getting married, she would want Naimat there as well on the first meeting.

After all, fears were meant to overcome, right?

"I'll be there, In Sha Allah."

Praised be God.

Peace be upon you

And may peace be upon you

Verse 255 of Surat Al Baqarah

The highest level of Paradise

Guardian [One of Allah's names]