HALF HER DEEN

9.

The Walima, also known as the marriage banquet, stands as the second important part of an Islamic wedding, following the nikah or marriage ceremony. It can be traced to the Arabic word "awlama," signifying the act of gathering and assembling.

As we approached my house, we were greeted by the sight of several cars already neatly parked in front of it.

I turned to look at Hassan, who retrieved the car keys from the ignition. A soft, knowing smile graced his lips as he met my eyes.

"Are you ready, my beautiful?" he whispered, as though the intimacy of the moment extended beyond just the two of us in the car.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied softly, sealing our shared anticipation with a tender smile.

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As we made our entrance, the room erupted in cheers and heartfelt congratulations. Hassan and I found ourselves drawn in separate directions, with men extending handshakes and giving him hugs and women also enveloping me in warm hugs and kisses.

The house was a beautiful sight, bathed in a palette of white and gold, with butterfly lights adorning the ceiling. In our living room was a centerpiece bearing the words "Nikkah Mubarak", I loved it so much.

The Walimah proved to be an intimate affair, but it quickly turned into an unforgettable celebration. My cherished cousins and closest friends gathered around me, and the atmosphere was one of joy and togetherness.

Then there was the food. My favorite part so far. All my favorites graced the table, and though I attempted to eat with grace, instilled had stains on my dress, but in the company of loved ones, it hardly seemed to matter.

Later, a grand white cake, adorned with intricate gold designs and three layers, graced our celebration. Across the cake, the words "Nikkah Mubarak H&H". It was all so cute.

Hassan and I cut into the cake together, and the room erupted with joyous cheers. The applause loudening when I playfully fed him a piece, and he, in return, carefully lifted the lower edge of my niqab to offer me a taste.

After that we again seemed to be pulled into different directions. Hassan conversing with the dads and uncles while i was engrossed in conversation with my cousins.

A little while later as we were still speaking, a shadow cast over me, and as I looked up, I saw Hassan, and he was holding a big white box adorned with a regal gold ribbon.

My Mahr.

A hush fell over the room as I anxiously received the box from him. Its weight filled me with anticipation, leaving me eager to unveil its contents. As I gingerly lifted the lid, what lay before me moved me to tears.

It was perfection.

The very first sight was a personalized light blue Qur'an, featuring my name elegantly scripted in Arabic. I recalled having mentioned my love for the color light blue, and Hassan had apparently remembered . Accompanying the Qur'an was crafted holder and an also customized prayer mat.

A ruby red box revealed a diamond jewelry set, comprising a necklace in the form of delicate petals, a bracelet, and earrings. It was so elegant and looked very expensive which left me wondering about the extent of Hassan's wealth.

At the bottom of the box, my gaze was drawn to a slender, delicate container. Carefully, I lifted the certificate from its confines, and as I unfurled the parchment, intricate calligraphy danced before my eyes.

The words spoke of a remarkable gift - I was declared the proud owner of a mosque, a sanctuary of faith currently under construction in the heart of Iran. As I finished reading, my eyes widen in sheer astonishment.