Chapter-5 #Rewritten

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Next day during evening Qibriyah was sitting at one of the tables of the mess canteen drinking tea. Bringing out his mobile he called Khadija. It had been two days since he had spoken with her on phone. Nor did he visit her. After he rejected Khadija's call, she didn't call again.

Khadija answered the phone within a short time.

"How are you?" Qibriyah asked after they had exchanged salaams. He took a sip from the teacup.

"Why didn't you ask that during the last two days?" Khadija mocked.

"I needed space." Qibriyah clenched his jaw at the discomfort from her question.

"You don't need that. I don't hold a grudge. It is your right to decide who you want to marry."

"Thank you." Some of the guilt for not accepting Khadija's wish lifted from his shoulders.

"Visit me tomorrow." Qibriyah took another sip. He debated if he should tell her he wouldn't. He chose not to in case an argument would start.

In the evening that came after, dressed in a sweater, polo shirt and lounge pant, Qibriyah was sitting crosslegged on the grass land next to the paved road inside the mess area. He was scrolling down his facebook newsfeed. If one's eyes fell on him from the entrance of the mess building on his right, they would be able to sort out his silhouette due to the light from the building, moon and stars. His mobile started ringing. His lips thinned seeing Khadija to be the caller.

"Asslam Walaikum Aunty. What are you doing?"

"I am sitting in the balcony. What about you?"

"I am sitting on the ground outside mess building."

"You were supposed to visit me today." Khadija sighed.

"I will visit you when I am ready." Qibriyah sensed longing in her voice. Guilt pierced his heart. But then his's lips parted as something came up his mind.

"You are making a mountain out of molehill . Tell me, what is going on in your head that is stopping you from coming here?" Qibriyah's face tensed as Khadija's face from that day flashed in his head.

"I don't want to talk about it...yet."

"Fine. I can't beg you always. Have your way of acting like a child." Khadija's words echoed with frustration. After his conversation with Khadija ended about five minutes later he walked inside the mess building to get wifi access. Then he googled "Psychologists in Dhaka" on his mobile.

"Hawwa the matchmaker is not finding it easy to get a proposal for you." Khadija's face wore concern as she spoke to Hawwa during the night after seeing he finish offering Isha Salah.

"Why?" Hawwa frowned taking off the khimar. She was sitting on the zainamaz on the floor. Khadija was on the bed with the Quran on a stand in front of her.

"It is because of your preferred age gap ranges."

"I am not changing them." Hawwa's eyes narrowed.

"The men you want may not want you because they will find you too young. So, what you should do is change the minimum age gap to six years." Khadija explained, her lips pressed in a line. Hawwa shook her head. "We don't get everything we want."

"Why can't we wait a bit? Maybe it's not only about the age gap ranges but also because I want to marry someone who is similar to me in practicing Islam. It's not easy to find someone who wants to practice Islam traditionally." Hawwa spoke fast. Khadija starred at Hawwa. Biting her lips, Hawwa prayed for Khadija to agree with her.

"I don't know how much time I have left." Khadija responded after a pause, her words laced with emotion.

"Dadima, I have dreams of my marriage. If you want to see me get married for my well being you should let me fulfill them. I didn't do anything Haram or unreasonable." Hawwa's eyes softened, her voice sounding desperate. Khadija's eyes widened.

"But...but I am asking to do a small thing."

"It's not small for me." Khadija's lips parted as she indulged in deep thoughts again.

"Fine." Hawwa's face beamed.


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