Quiet Morning — Fruit Salad & Tension

He was slowly eating the fruit salad in front of him, his head bent, smiling that gentle, handsome smile that even showed his dimples. He shook his head, then looked up at the young woman sitting on the chair facing him. Her face was stern as she stared at him. She smiled with a sound and, annoyed, said, “Ohh, there goes the crazy one speaking, Khaleel — I’ve become your joke now?”

He hushed her lightly, put down his fork and said, “That’s not it, Mum. Please forgive me.” He rubbed his head with worry and added, “You know everything is just a phase, Mum. Ummi and Abba don’t understand it, they can’t see what I mean — I’m just bored of all this…” He rubbed his face again, worry written on his features as he looked at his small mum.

When someone greeted at the door they all turned their attention there and responded to the greeting. Small mum stood up, smiling and welcoming them as they entered the sitting room quickly. Khaleel rose and looked toward his small mum and said, “So Mum, I’ll come back — or maybe tomorrow?” She replied, “No — come back this evening; we haven’t finished talking.” He smiled, “Insha’Allah, Mum.” He picked up the bowl of fruit salad he had eaten and went to the kitchen. She said, “No, leave it, I will clear it.” He said, “No, I’ll take it, Mum,” and headed to the kitchen, set the bowl down, then returned to say a quick goodbye and left the sitting room. He checked his wristwatch as he walked toward his car. Walking, he stole a glance at a tree under which white plastic chairs and a table were set; he checked whether the people he expected were still there or had left. They were sitting, just like when he first saw them earlier — not chatting: one was pressing her phone, the other also on the phone. Their eyes met and the one on her phone pretended to keep tapping while secretly watching him. He quickly looked away. She, meanwhile, glanced at her phone and laughed softly, saying, “Look, clumsy — he’s trying to catch my attention.” Quickly she pretended to be surprised, “Oh Khaleel, when did you come?” He turned and looked at her even though he knew she must have seen him arrive; without praise or exposure he said, “You didn’t message me?” She puckered her lips and said, “No — I was just surprised to see you at our house today, because you don’t usually come around. Anyway, how was your day?” He gave her a hard look, opened his car door, honked to the guard, the gate was opened for him and he left the compound. She laughed with her friend who couldn’t stop playing with her phone and grinned until she no longer saw his car as the guard closed the gate. Then she turned back to her friend still laughing and sighed, “Honestly, this guy really caught my eye, Meenah; he’s handsome, I like him.” Meenah gave her a look and said, “Khaleel? You know his behavior — he won’t even say anything, honestly! That arrogant fellow — I, since I grew up, have never been impressed by wealth alone. He’s like a brother to me; I’ll tell you about him, Salma. Have you ever seen any of my cousins come to this house and I didn’t greet him? You know me and my modesty, Salma. Since you saw Khaleel enter our house and I didn’t greet him, I’m telling you to be quiet.” Salma said, “That upsets me, really. Well, may God decide. I need to go inside and greet Mom and then head home before she starts calling me.” Meenah said, “Come on, hurry, and let us let those people be. I know they will mind their own business.” Salma glared and said, “Because you are at their house you think you can order me? That’s why you say I should wait for guests whose return I don’t even know.” Salma stood and went inside; Meenah rose laughing and followed; they entered the sitting room together.

Blessed Eid to you, sisters.

~Dr Khaleel — By Khaleesat Haiydar (Part 2)

At half past nine at night Khaleel parked his car in the parking space inside their home in G.R.A, Kaduna. He got out, looked at his father’s car — even without being told he knew his father had returned. He walked to the balcony that leads into the main sitting room, greeted and entered. He found his sister Rukayya lying and watching. She sat up, saw him and said, “Welcome back, Khaleel.” He replied, without looking at her, “Hi,” then went toward the stairs. As he passed, his father nearly collided with him; Khaleel quickly stepped back and greeted him, though there was no praise or affection in his father’s response. His father said, “I was calling you into my sitting room.” Hearing that, Khaleel turned and went to his father’s room. He wiped some sweat from his forehead and climbed the stairs slowly. He went to his mum’s room where she sat by her bed on her phone; a helper was cutting fruits into a plate. He took a seat beside her and when she looked at him she said, “Now you want to be affectionate?” He quieted her softly and said, “Ummi, please take me to Abba; he’s calling me.” She gave him a look and said, “Take you? You mean you didn’t go?” He pulled a handkerchief, wiped his face — nothing more — then got up and headed for his father’s sitting room. He sat on the carpet in front of his father, who was sipping coffee. Without looking directly at him Khaleel said, “Abba, I’m here.” His father put down his cup and said, “Have you finished your hide-and-seek with me, Khaleel?” Khaleel forced a smile and, unprepared, replied, “No, that’s not it, Abba, I had a lot of work at the clinic.” Ummi popped her head into the sitting room and sat next to the homeowner.

~Dr Khaleel — By Khaleesat Haiydar (Part 3)

Khaleel raised his head slowly and looked at his father; seeing that his father seemed serious made him lower his head. His father shook his head, sighed and said, “What are you trying to do to us, Khaleel?” Khaleel could not answer; he lowered his head and remained silent. His father glanced at the TV playing in the sitting room and said, “That clearly shows how you belittle us — so I’ve decided to arrange for you to choose either Meenah or Maryam; go and speak with them and choose one of them. I bet you — it won’t take long. Get up and leave our presence.” Khaleel could barely move; everything inside him froze. He wiped the sweat forming on his face and looked at his mother, who showed no sign of being affected. The names his father mentioned swirled in his head: Meenah or Maryam. He felt as if he wanted to cry at his parents’ decision. His father’s voice echoed in his head: “I told you to stand and give us privacy.” He raised his head hurriedly and, voice trembling, looked at his parents and pleaded, “Please, for the Prophet’s sake, have mercy, Abba — I really don’t like them. I promise you — give me only one month and I will present to you the woman whom I will marry. Please, consider me, Father, I know I have sinned.” He finished speaking as if about to cry. His father glared harshly and said, “You disrespect yourself, don't you? Get out of my presence.” Khaleel, saying nothing more, stood up with difficulty, turned and left the room.

At half past eleven Ummi entered Khaleel’s room. He was lying down, eyes open, clearly exhausted by life. Ummi sat beside him and he sat up. “Ummina, have you seen what Abba is planning for me?” he asked. Ummi said, “Yes, you brought this on yourself, Khaleel. When did we become so strict with you that you’ve been acting like this and treating us like children?” He lay back down and said nothing more. She knew very well his temperament and what could happen tomorrow if he went to bed in the troubled state he was in; that’s why she said, “Calm down, son. I will reason with Abba, but it won’t be easy. He has already given you the extra month you asked for to bring a woman to introduce to them — don’t embarrass me, you know I dislike such things.” Khaleel stood and hugged his mother with gratitude; she patted his head, smiled and blessed him, then left. Khaleel could not sleep that night despite some calmness; his main worry was where to start looking for the woman he was to present to his parents now — how would he begin this difficult task? The thought tormented him.