a 21st-century romantic and entertaining Muslim novel about an inter-sect relationship
'Appreciating the similarities and respecting the differences '
*****
Zulaikha, a daughter...
I looked out through the bus window. The dirty water marks and sunlight blocked a clear view of the streets. It had been a week that I had kept pondering about the decision I was going to make. What was I going to tell Yusuf? and my parents?.
The bus stopped at a red light next to a farmer's market. I watched an elderly Asian couple bickering over groceries. Looking at them, I wondered if love faded after some time. Was I willing to risk my future for something temporary?. My mother always told me a relationship needs commitment and stability because love doesn't last forever. But that is what all Indian mothers tell their daughters.
I got off at my stop and started to walk home. My mom was eagerly waiting for me at the front door.
I could smell the pakoras and gulabjamun from the front porch. My mom made gulabjamun only on special occasions. I tried to remember if it was someone's birthday today.
"Go upstairs and get dressed. There is someone here to see you."
I tried to peek at who was giggling in the living room. No-one had told me guests were coming over. My mom pulled me by my arm and hurried me upstairs without anyone noticing.
"Who are they?" I asked mom as I inspected my closet for a decent salwar kameez to wear.
"They are friends of your brother-in-law who came to his graduation party a few months ago if you remember. They saw you and have bought a marriage proposal for their son."
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I turned, looking at my mom furiously.
"Ammi, my answer is NO"
"Zulekha, his name is Saif he is in Med School. He was born and raised in the States. He has great humor, is from a respectable family, and has his own condo at 26."
"I don't care. I like-" I paused, glancing down at the wooden floor. I knew what I was about to say next would bring chaos. I wanted to break the news to my family after talking to Yusuf.
"I like Yusuf," I stated, looking straight at her.
"Zulekha, I am not doing this with you again. Yusuf is not a suitable match for you. Get dressed. They are waiting for you downstairs."
There were days when my mom would not take no for an answer, and this was one of those days. But at the end of the day, I was her daughter and carried her attitude. I was not going to step back from my decision either.
So I wore the ugliest salwar kameez I could find, plotting to create a scene in front of others, and headed downstairs to the living room.
The room was cold and smelled of Arabic perfume. My mom's finest china was laid out on the coffee table with tea and Indian snacks.
"MashaAllah, you are beautiful. But you are so skinny you need to eat more." Saif's mom said as she got up to greet me.
"It's due to my anemia. Maybe your son can prescribe something for it," I replied with a smirk. Taking a seat next to my sister and dad.
