Chapter Nine: Rejection

The family left their home later than usual that day.

Standing in the middle of her porch, Nadiah drank in her surroundings; noticing the windows and doors of the neighbouring houses were shut and the bicycles chained. It was of no surprise seeing that evening was already mid-way. Her ears picked up the sound of crickets hidden in the tall thickets and a sudden movement in the bushes nearby attracted her attention until --

"Nadiah! Buat apa termenung tu? Ya Allah! Kita dah lambat ke surau ni. Anak dara ni...sempat pula dia nak jadi minah jenin (Nadiah! Why are you daydreaming? O Allah! This child...We are already running late and you still got time to daydream like Mat Jenin?) Aminah exclaimed, shaking her head. "Tsk, child I don't know what to do about you sometimes."

*Mat Jenin : A man in Malay folklore who loves to daydream and fell to his death doing so while plucking coconuts*

"Mak!" Nadiah protested. "Don't talk nonsense lah, mak! I thought I saw something in the bushes..." She had a strong suspicion that it was probably a lizard.

"Hush! Nadiah!" Aminah reprimanded and Nadiah immediately fell silent, knowing what her mother meant. It was a Malay superstition that one should watch their tongues and not discuss about anything unusual -- whether seen, felt, sensed, or heard -- as it was possibly affiliated with the supernatural especially when it's evening or night time for they might just offend or attract one's interest.

Aminah was already watching her husband and Nadiah followed her mother's gaze. Hassan rattled the lock before giving the front door a slight shove. It didn't budge.

Satisfied, he descended down the steps and slipped on his slippers.

"Come, let's hurry. It will be Maghrib soon," Hassan said, adjusting the midnight black songkok (headgear) perched on his head before beginning to lead the way down the path with his wife and daughter trailing close behind.

The walk to the surau was accompanied by silence, saved for the sounds of leaves and twigs being crushed under their weights and buzzing of insects. As predicted, they were the last family to arrive. Most villagers were already settled inside waiting for the call to Maghrib prayer. The few men remaining outside stopped talking and turned their heads upon hearing their approach. Among them - Nadiah recognised - were Harun and his father, Pakcik Yahya. Hassan gave the salam and the group returned his greeting.

Sauntering forward, Harun took her father's hand in his before anyone else could initiate the handshake and said, "How are you, Pakcik (Uncle) Hassan?"

"Good Alhamdulillah." (Praise to God)

There's something different about him, Nadiah thought as she watched the man who'd proposed marriage to her release her father's hand and lowered his face slightly. The tone and the way he carried himself. Goodness, was he being humble? She thought, puzzled at his demeanour.

"Makcik, (Auntie)" He said to her mother, nodding his head in the same manner while Aminah returned the acknowledgement with a smile and said, "How are you, Harun?"

While they exchanged small talk, Nadiah found herself questioning his behaviour. This stark change in Harun was not at all appealing - at least not to her. Normally girls would be awed by a man's humility but the way he did it, it seemed unnatural and pretentious to her and she was even more repulsed. Then she stopped herself. It's not nice to think negatively of people, Nadiah. She scolded herself mentally while still looking at him.

That's when Harun turned and locked gazes with her, saying, "Nadiah, how are you?" Instead of answering, she simply cracked a small, reluctant smile and quickly dropped her gaze while still feeling his eyes burning on her. This was not the Harun who took pride in catching and torturing insects with elastic bands at nine years old, proudly showing her his collection of captives much to Zainab's horror and her own disgust at his utter cruelty.

When the call to prayer was cried out a moment later, gratitude filled her for she could not stand to have him eyeing her any longer.

All small talk was scraped and the men streamed in first before Nadiah and her mother followed suit. Entering the prayer hall, Maa'rof was the first person she sighted, seated right at the front - in front of the other male jemaahs (praying persons) - with a prayer mat sprawled before him. He's going to lead the prayer, she realised as she settled down at the outmost corner of the back row next to her mother. Zainab and her mother was in the saf (prayer row) right in front of them. They turned around and exchanged salams.

While the Muezzin led the Azan, she watched Maa'rof from where she sat. His face deeply etched in concentration as he silently read the Quran in front of him. There was something enthralling about the way he did so which pulled her attention so much so that she could not look away. Only when her mother's prayer fabric stroked her arm did she snapped back to reality. Next to her, Aminah was standing up and tying the strings of the white prayer garment behind her head.

In bewilderment, heat began to pool in Nadiah cheeks upon realising that she had been staring at Maa'rof - which was an inappropriate thing to do - especially when she was supposed to lower her gaze. She repeated the istighfar in her heart a few times - seeking forgiveness from God for her action - as she stood up and pulled on her own garment on top of her own Baju Kurung dress and tudung (headscarf).

A short moment after the call was finished, everyone present got on their feet simultaneously to pray salah sunat. (An additional prayer) After straightening her posture, Nadiah recited the niyyat (intention to pray) in her heart, raised her hands over her chest before placing it on top of each other over her belly and began to pray.

After the sermon was delivered later that evening, once again the same group of youths sat congregated together on the floor. The females on one side and the males on the other. Each with their own copy of the Quran already opened and ready for the Quran recitation class to start. Meanwhile Maa'rof had disappeared into one of the rooms at the back. Nadiah turned her head and was surprised to see Harun present; sitting obediently while playing with a loose thread on the rug. For he rarely attended or even when he did, he will go missing during the breaks and never return.

Maybe he did change. I'm such a bad person to have thought otherwise. I really should give him a chance. She thought, shaking away the ill thoughts she have of him swimming in her head.

"Assalamualaikum wahrahmatullahi wabarakahtu..."

Nadiah snapped her head in front and saw Maa'rof lowering himself onto the space before them. The group returned the greeting in unison.

"Walaikumsalam wahrahmatullahi wabarakahtu..."

"Before we begin, I would like to say a few words," Maa'rof said. "We are not far from finishing reciting the whole Quran and when that happens, you no longer need not attend but, regardless of that, I would urge you to still come or at the very least, try to complete reading the entire Quran at your own pace -- cover to cover -- at least once a month. Remember, for every letter you recite you earn a reward and that reward is multiplied by ten.

So recite daily, even if it's only a page. I understand that most among us do not know how to speak or understand Arabic. We only know how to read. Some of us may stagger and even take a while to spell it out correctly. It's alright to be slow, just do not give up and continue striving. In a hadith narrated by Aishah, may Allah be pleased with her, the Prophet SAW said:

'Verily the one who recites the Qur’an beautifully, smoothly, and precisely, he will be in the company of the noble and obedient angels. And as for the one who recites with difficulty, stammering or stumbling through its verses, then he will have twice that reward.'

All of your efforts will be rewarded, InsyaAllah (God-Willing). Another reason why it's better to attend recitation classes is so that you can correct your pronunciation mistakes because when pronounced wrongly, it takes on a different meaning altogether. That's all I have to say for today." Turning the pages of his Quran, he continued, "Let's begin today's class, turn to where you last stopped."

Sounds of pages being flipped contained the air. Nadiah found the page easily as she had leafed a little strip of cloth inside.

She felt a slight nudge from her right. "Which surah?" Zainab said in a whisper.

"Surah eighty-two."

While the others were still searching for the correct page, Nadiah directed her gaze to the front. And at that same moment, Maa'rof happened to look up - their eyes meeting, making her heart stop for a millisecond before he broke off the eye contact as quickly as it happened. Nadiah down casted her own gaze as well.

Before turning away, she had noticed the unreadable emotion in his eyes. She wasn't sure what it meant. All around her, more pages were being flipped. No one else was aware of their little exchange. When the sounds ceased, Maa'rof cleared his throat. "Have you all already found it? It's Surah Al-Infitar, chapter 82."

"Yes," The ones present answered, the males' voices dominating over the females'.

Maa'rof initiated the Basmala - the others recited it as well - before reading the Surah.

"Auzubillah hi minash Syaithaan nir rajim {I seek refuge in Allah from the accursed Satan and his evil whisperings}

Bismillah hirahman nirrahhim...{In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, Most Merciful}

Itha assamao infatarat; {When the sky breaks apart}

Wa-itha alkawakibu intatharat; {And when the stars fall, scattering,}

Wa-itha albiharu fujjirat; {And when the seas are erupted}

Wa-itha alqubooru buAAthirat; {And when the [contents of] graves are scattered,}

{A soul will [then] know what it has put forth and kept back.O mankind, what has deceived you concerning your Lord, the Generous,Who created you, proportioned you, and balanced you?In whatever form He willed has He assembled you. No! But you deny the Recompense.And indeed, [appointed] over you are keepers,

Noble and recording;They know whatever you do. Indeed, the righteous will be in pleasure, and indeed, the wicked will be in Hellfire.They will [enter to] burn therein on the Day of Recompense,And never therefrom will they be absent. And what can make you know what is the Day of Recompense?Then, what can make you know what is the Day of Recompense?It is the Day when a soul will not possess for another soul [power to do] a thing; and the command, that Day, is [entirely] with Allah.}

Bismillah hirahman nirrahhim...{In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, Most Merciful}

Waylun lilmutaffifeen { Woe to those who give less [than due] }

Allatheena itha iktalooAAala annasi yastawfoon { Who, when they take a measure from people, take in full.}........"

As the night heightened, the Quran recitations were carried along with it, weaving its way into the hearts and minds of the people.

***

After completing her routine morning tasks the next day, Nadiah slipped into her parents' empty bed chamber, intending to take up her father's suggestion. She stopped in front of the book shelf and fingered the books nearest to her reach, scanning the titles for the intended book. Majority of the books - if not all - were written in Bahasa Melayu (Malay Language) and a few texts were in Jawi. Her index finger paused at a brown coloured book, one that was much thicker than the rest in the collection. Tracing its spine which does not bear a title -- as normal books would have -- she pulled it out.

Yellow, plastic letters graced its cover. It read: Kisah-Kisah Para-para Nabi dan Sahabat sahabat Nabi. (Stories of the Prophets and the companions) Slow steps carried her into the sanctuary of her bed room, onto her bed as she leafed through the delicate pages, stopping when she found the person she had been looking for: Siti Khadijah Bint Khuwaylid.

Rolling on her stomach, she started reading. The first few paragraphs were about her early life and how she came to marriage to Prophet Muhammad SAW. Khadijah (RA) was a wealthy widow who came from a noble family and was a business woman. The Prophet(SAW) had worked for her. She had entrusted him with some of her wealth, asking him to trade with it in Syria on her behalf. He was already well known for his honesty, truthfulness and trustworthiness. He returned from Syria after having made a large profit for her.

Deciding he was someone of good character, she proposed marriage. They got married when she was forty years old, and he, at twenty five years old. They had five children and the marriage lasted for twenty five years; in which he did not take on another wife during that time and only remarried after she had passed away.

What struck Nadiah the most was when she read about how Khadijah (RA) had comforted Muhammad (SAW) when he first received the first revelation from God brought by the Angel Jibrail in the cave of Mount Hira. Stricken with fear, he clambered home, shivering and asked her to cover him with a blanket. He had thought he was mad, possessed, or was imagining things but she'd assured him he wasn't and readily believed his account.

"Do not worry," she had said to him. "for by Him who has dominion over Khadijah's soul, I hope that you are the Prophet of this nation. Allah would never humiliate you, for you are good to your relatives, you are true to your word, you help those who are in need, you support the weak, you feed the guest and you answer the call of those who are in distress."

She was the first person to publicly embrace Islam and never stopped helping him, to the extent of giving up her wealth to support him throughout his prophet hood up until her death. He had loved her, as she did loved him, and he continued to do so even after her death.

When asked by his third wife, Aisha (RA) whether Khadijah (RA) was the only woman worthy of his love, he (SAW) had said, "She believed in me when no one else did; she accepted Islam when people rejected me; and she helped and comforted me when there was no one else to lend me a helping hand."

Closing the book shut, Nadiah set it down. Her thoughts already stirring over what she had read. Khadijah (RA) had status but she married the Prophet (SAW) even though he wasn't rich. Marriage, she had realised, was more than just the wedding. Caring and giving their best to each other, riding through hardships and obstacles together and still loving each other at the end of the day. Khadijah (RA) was his comfort just as he was hers.

Though she may not have decided whether or not to marry Harun, reading about their life together, she came to know one thing: To her, that was love. And, she wanted one just like it.

She prayed salah istikhara that evening just as she had done the previous night, putting her trust in God.

***

She didn't dream that night either.

And that was enough to leave her questioning whether the Istikhara prayer was performed correctly. But... she did follow the steps exactly like how it was explained in the how-to-pray-istikhara guide book and she knew the dua (prayer) to be recited by heart. She was starting to get nervous especially since it was already Saturday and she had to reach a decision by Monday.

"Have patience," Aminah said, as she thinly sliced the long beans. "The answer will come, InsyaAllah. "

Blinking absent-mindedly, Nadiah asked, "How? How do you know what the answer is? Is there anything specific that brings to the realisation?"

Aminah stopped cutting, turning to look at her. "It varies for person to person, " She said, tossing the last strand into the basket. Picking up an onion, she began to chop it into dices. "For some people, the answer comes in a dream. Some have to pray Istikhara only once. And some, for seven days straight. "

Furrowing her brows, Nadiah brought her elbows up to the table, resting her chin on her palms as she listened to her mother speak."But not everyone receives their answer through a dream. For some, it could be an event or an incident which happened which made them certain of a particular decision or they have a sudden change of heart. It's heavily based on gut feeling. When you get the answer, you will know in your heart that it is the right one."

Nadiah knew then that her mother was right.

On her way back from the post office that afternoon, she stopped at a fruits seller's cart in the market, intending to pick some up for her family when a voice behind her made her blood curl.

Harun.

He wasn't addressing her in particular. But rather, was speaking to someone else. Very carefully, she lowered the apple back onto the crate, adjusted her scarf properly and surreptitiously sneaked a glance over her shoulder.

Yep, it was the devil himself in the flesh. Remembering of Thursday's incident and not wanting to risk into any unnecessary small talk with him, she turned to the direction of the nearest alley. It was mostly deserted except for a few loitering, stray cats. She treaded carefully, refraining from stepping onto the leftover prayer offerings of a Buddhist altar and manoeuvred her way through the litter and broken, unwanted items. She was too busy trying to escape to realise that unfortunately, the alley led her further away from home. Only when she'd travelled halfway into the lane did she realised this, a groan emitting from her lips.

She had no choice but to turn back.

Not ready to be defeated, she shadowed herself, staying close to the wall for fear Harun might actually pop up from the other way. Male voices talking coming from the opposite direction made her bones jump out of her skin. Falling to one knee, she hid herself behind a large barrel and waited. The voices growing louder as did her heart beat. When she started to see the first outlines of several men, she prayed Harun wasn't among them.

She felt like a thief for hiding there and contemplated on coming out but decided against it after making out a group of them approaching. For they could possibly cause her harm. Shuddering at this thought, she shrank further inside her hiding place as noiselessly as possible.

When they stopped metres away, she thanked God that they did as she couldn't bear to be seen. She peered at the group, her heart flipping when she saw Harun. What made the situation even more dreadful was the fact that she was trapped in her hiding place and could not escape until they went away. There were a few other Malay and Chinese men - all of which, she had never met before. What on earth are they doing? She thought to herself while straining her ears to listen.

"Harun," The Malay lanky man said, putting one hand on Harun's shoulder and directing his thumb at the Chinese man with a beer belly. " This is my friend, Ah Kai, the one I told you about last week."

Nadiah watched as the duo shook hands.