Love me, Love my Lord (Complete√)

Chapter 48

Extremely sorry for the late late update. I hope you enjoy! 💕

HER POV:

“I don’t think I should waste my time, Iris. I’ve got an assignment to submit next week.” I spoke hesitantly, pulling Iris’s sleeve to grab her attention. Iris rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “Come on, Romma. You’ve got plenty of time.” She said. “And besides, we’re already here. Trust me. You’ll have a blast!” She winked at me.

I looked up ahead of me. We were walking towards a small two story building. A beautiful garden was splayed outside with sparkling grass and a beautiful assortment of flowers. I looked around, seeing multiple bushes. The atmosphere was so serene and beautiful.

“I’m not worried about not having a blast.” My eyes were glued to the garden as I spoke. “I just don’t want to get low grades. I want to apply for a scholarship and you know why that is.”. Iris nodded, mockingly. “Yeah, yeah. I know you want to get a scholarship but being cooped up in your bedroom for a whole week won’t transform you into a genius.” She told me. Before I could open my mouth, she spoke again. “Now lighten up yourself. It’s a party not a funeral. I want you cheerful and happy when we get inside.”. Iris sounded like a mother. It made me laugh at how easily she could switch to being a dumb 24 year old to a sassy grandma.

I obeyed with a nod, chuckling . Iris cocked an eyebrow at mep but she let it go once we climbed the three stairs in front of the main door.

“That’s more like it.” Iris nodded in approval. She rang the bell. Both of us waited patiently outside when I started thinking about the party. Iris told me it was a youth club set by a few sisters who were converts. They held Islamic classes and activities for the young Muslim generation living here in Canada. They threw parties like these every once in a while and Iris and I decided to check them out this once.

I did know a few girls who went here but never really checked it out myself. I was expecting to be impressed. Places like these made me feel at home. Where I didn’t have to be frowned down upon. Especially in a society like mine.

The creaking of the door opening shook me out of my thoughts.

I looked up at the woman standing in the doorway. My face brightened up looking at her welcoming smile. She had a long hijab on that covered her abdoman. She was wearing an abaya underneath. The woman looked at Iris. “Assalamualaikum, Iris! So happy you could make it!” She beamed. Her brown eyes twinkled. “Wa salaam, Yumna. It’s my pleasure.” Iris replied, giving her a gentle smile. The woman, supposedly Yumna turned to look at me.

“And who is this lovely young lady?” She asked, reaching out to shake my hand. “This is my bestie, practically my sister from another mom. Her name’s Romma.” As Iris introduced, I shook hands with Yumna. Yumna nodded knowingly. “Nice to meet you, Romma. I’m Yumna. Hope you have a great time today.” She spoke softly. She looked like she was probably in her early thirties.

“Oh my, I’ve kept you standing for so long. Come in, girls!” she moved aside, motioning us to come in. Iris and I exchanged a look before we walked in. We found ourselves in a corridor. It was decorated with balloons. Despite the cute and lively decor, it was oddly quiet.

Then it came to me. Of course this wasn’t the kind of party I was used to. For sure, there would be no music booming in the whole building. Nor would there be any girls and boys hooking up right And left. I rolled my eyes at that.

Yumna took us to a room. We could see the crowd inside. There were about 20 to 25 girls—hijabis. It made me feel more secure about mine. We walked in, no one really noticing us. When i turned to Iris, she had already set her eyes on a girl familiar to her. By the looks of it, she was probably gonna walk up to her. I grabbed her arm and pulled her close to me. “You’re not leaving me in this pool of strangers.” I hissed. She laughed a little before nodding.

“Well, you girls enjoy. I need to tend to a little things. In shaa Allah I’ll catch up with you later.” Yumna told us. We nodded before thanking her. She gave us a final wave before vanishing. Iris quickly turned to face me. “Romma,” she called. “hmm?” her mouth formed a grin when she said. “Let’s socialize!”

“But, we hardly know anyone.” I looked around the room for a double check. “We can start from there.” Iris pointed at the same girl she was going to walk up to. Both of us walked up to her.

As we got closer, I noticed that the girl looked very young. In her mid teens or something. A peach hijab was wrapped around her head neatly. Her skin was fair but had a tint of brownish it. Her eyes were big and her lashes were long. Her eyes were probably the most beautiful feature.

“Salam, Faryaal.” Iris beamed. The girl — Faryaal turned to Iris. Her original smile turned into a look of excitement. “IRIS!” she practically screamed before pulling Iris into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much!” she cried. Iris laughed. “Me too!” she returned the hug.

By now, I felt like no less than a third wheel.

“This is Romma. She’s the one I told you about. It’s her first time here. “ Iris had already broken the hug and had started introducing me. About time. The girl turned to me. “Oh! Romma! It’s a huge honour to meet you! Iris has told me so much about you.”

And here I thought Iris had come here for the first time or something.

“She did? I hope they were compliments.” I laughed nervously. Faryaal nodded excitedly. “Don’t worry, they were!” she told me. Faryaal and I talked a bit before Iris went to grab some food for us. We were left alone when Faryaal started. “Honestly, you should come here more often. Attend a few classes and stuff.” She advised, crossing her hands over her chest.

“You know, Romma. When I first started coming here, my father wouldn’t even speak to me. He hates the fact I wear the hijab and want to study Islam.” I frowned. “Why did he not like it?” I asked, pondering if there was ever such a situation. It never occurred to me that the way my dad encouraged me to wear the hijab, others' dads would tell them to take it off.

Faryaal’s face fell. Her expression was all gloomy.  “I come from a traditional Indian family. For us, our respect and rank in the society means a lot. Although my family is traditional, we aren’t really religious. None of the girls in my family wear the hijab. When I started it, my parents got worried that it would change the way people think about us. They were worried we would be considered “old fashioned”.” She let out a sigh, expressing the disappointment she felt.

I just looked at her with a sad expression. I only knew how to sympathize with her.

“Is everything okay now?” I questioned with concern. I couldn’t do much to help her but I could at least ask her if she was fine. Faryaal moved her eyes from the floor to me. She nodded slightly, her mouth forming a small smile. “Alhamdulillah. Even if mom and dad don’t approve of it, my Allah’s pleased. I don’t intend to stop anyway.” Her smile brightened. She wasn’t smiling about what she said, rather she was smiling because she had peace in her heart and she confident about what she was doing. Most of all, she knew Allah was pleased with her.

I just kept quiet. Even speechless for a while. I kept thinking that I wanted to achieve this level of serenity and peace in my life. Faryaal was an amazing girl. She made me look like a new convert. Despite being so young and surrounded with fitnah everywhere, she managed to overcome her emotions and desires.

She was no slave of herself.

“May Allah keep you strong. Mashaa Allah, what you’re doing is amazing.” I smiled at her encouragingly. Before any of us could say anything further, Iris stepped in. “I brought food!” She exclaimed. Faryaal and I turned to her in an instant.

“Great! I’m hungry!” Faryaal announced. All of us started to dig in. The day went pretty well after that.  I made a lot of new friends. Best of all, all of them were struggling Muslimahs like me. It made me feel secure and safe that there were people like me who were trying their best. Iris was right. I did have a blast.

Alhamdulillah.