Her cheeks were worn and sunken and her skin hugged her bones. That didn't stop her though; you could never catch her not reciting Qur'an. Always vigil in her personal prayer room Dad had set up for her. Bowing, prostrating, raising her hands in prayer. That was the way she was from dawn to sunset and back again, boredom was for others.
As for me I craved nothing more than fashion magazines and novels. I treated myself all the time to videos until those trips to the rental place becames my trademark. As they say, when something becomes habit people tend to distinguish you by it. I was negligent in my responsibilities and laziness characterized my salah.
One night, I turned the video off after a marathon three hours of watching. The adhan softly rose in that quiet nght. I slipped peacefully into my blanket.
Her voice carried from her prayer room. "Yes? Would you like anything Noorah?" I said.
With a sharp needle she popped my plans. "Don't sleep before you pray Fajr!"
Agh...theres still an hour before Fajr, that was only the first adhaan!"
With those loving pinches of hers, she called me closer. She was always like that, even before the fierce sickness shook her spirit and shut her in bed. "Hannah can you come sit beside me."
I could never refuse any of her requests;you could touch the purity and the sincerity."Yes, Noorah?"
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