Nawal winced at the harsh voice of her mother. Her feet froze on the stairs. Ghazala rushed out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a wooden ladle in her hand. She glared at her guilt stricken daughter's face and demanded, "I asked where were you?"

Nawal thought wildly what to respond, "I...I ... I went for salah and then ..."

Ghazala raised an eyebrow, "Salah was over more than 2 hours ago."

Nawal's eyes roamed wildly around the hall, trying hard to come up with some excuse, "I got a call from a friend that there are extra classes for business math and if I am interested and so I went for the class as it is confusing." She breathlessly made an excuse and praying silently her mother didn't see through her lie.

Ghazala narrowed her eyes, "Why didn't you call and tell me?"

"My phone's battery is low and I wasn't able to call." Nawal responded spontaneously.

"Well next time you better tell me" she huffed and raised the ladle pointing at her fretting daughter, "Do you understand me?"

Nawal nodded vigorously, "Yes of course." She then whirled around and dashed to her room. Shutting the door, she leaned against it and took a sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, she wondered she was not in trouble now but what about next time.

****

Late afternoon, Daud's forearms rested on his mahogany office desk, his piercing gaze met a desperate Mr. Shams. The man was nervously squirming under the fierce blue eyes. "Do I hear you right then, Shams? You are no more interested in the partnership."

Shams nodded warily.

"Salman is behind this." Daud commented not bothering to ask. Picking up the file from the desk he threw it at Shams chest, "Get out of here. I fucking don't need faggots like you in my business."

"You asshole you have no m.." Shams hissed but wasn't able to complete as Daud abruptly stood up from his black leather office chair, slamming his hands on the desk he leaned forward, "Don't you dare use that language with me in my office." His jaw clenched, "Get out."

Shams breathed deeply and stood up, "Good riddance" he muttered under his breath and left.

Taking a cigarette out of its box, Daud lit and as he inhaled the first swig of the smoke he sank back on his chair. Leaning his head against the headrest of the chair, he puffed out the smoke. So Salman wanted to play it rough. He breathed in through the cigarette. And slowly, a smirk spread on his lips, who needs a big supplier when you can create an alliance with small ones and dominate the market.

Swirling on his chair, he turned to face the office windows, the bustling city centre where the yellow and blue buses were lined on the road and countless pedestrians were making their way on the busy streets. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he puffed again. He wasn't going to play childish games and run after Salman. Instead he will make his own identity and his own business firm footings. Then he will see how Salman or anyone else is able to uproot his establishment. He had big plans. Much bigger than catering to Irish market as what Salman was doing.

He will prove it to them. All of them from his Dada jaan to that fucking asshole Salman.

He will become successful.

And as he puffed out more smoke, his gaze flickered to the clear blue skies of the spring afternoon. And his face softened thinking of Nawal. And then again for the second time that day he used the Arabic term for if God wills.

Inshaa Allah I will.

****

Eyebrows knotted, forehead creased, Salman cancelled the call after speaking to Mr. Shams. What game was Daud playing now? Gently he set his phone on the table and idle picked the Mont Blanc platinum pen. Tracing the shiny surface of the pen, his frown deepened. He had thought to bring Daud to his knees. But Daud had easily escaped from his trap. What other strategy can Daud be using? But most of all, how the hell will he bring Daud down in time so that Nawal doesn't marry him.

Time was the essence.

He had only fuckin four months. How the hell will he crush Daud. No matter what he was trying, it wasn't working. His gaze flickered around the room in deep thoughts. There must be some weakness of Daud. Anything.

His gaze landed on the laptop screen, he had been reading news when an article caught his attention. 'How social life was changing in Ireland?'. His grip tightened on the luxurious pen. This is it.

If it not business, he will target his personal life.

His grip loosened and the pen dropped on the pine desk with a thud. Daud, I will find your weakness in these four months. His jaw tightened, and that is my challenge.

Everyone knew Salman loved challenges.

****

They hadn't met since the Friday lunch. Two weeks had passed. Daud had been busy at work. He would also talk much less on the phone. When he explained Nawal how he was working hard to bind contracts with suppliers, Nawal understood his stress and gave him space. There were days when he would just text her "Good morning beautiful" and "Good night beautiful". Nawal had gotten so used to listening to his voice at night that those days she felt lonely. But she had to be patient and as a wife in the future she will need to support her husband in good and tough times. She had no regrets. But not a day passed by that she didn't think over their lunch.

In the last two weeks, each and every day, she relived the moments of the lunch and cherished those memories. The feeling of his hands. The warmth of his palm against hers. The tingling sensation of his lips. But most of all the concern in his eyes. How she felt she was melting under his gaze. She always ended up with a racing heart unable to control her feelings for him. With each passing moment her feelings for him were deepening. She had mentally designed a calendar, crossing each day and counting the number of days were left to the wedding. And today was a celebration. There were only 99 days left for the wedding.

She sat on her desk, smiling dreamily, and doodling with her pen on the notebook when her mother's voice startled her and immediately made her come out of her reverie. Her pen dropped to the notebook where she had been sketching hearts and flowers.

"Nawaaaaall" shouted Ghazala again.

Immediately, she ran out to her mother who was in the kitchen cooking lunch. It was Easter holidays and nothing much to do. She was spending the time at home with her family. Well mostly locked up in her room with the thoughts of Daud.

"Why are you hiding in your room all day?" Ghazala frowned, looking up from the pot of curry she was stirring.

Nawal cautiously stood beside her mother, "I was studying." She whispered.

"You are getting married in three months now." Ghazala spun around to face her daughter, "What exactly do you plan to feed your husband? Cookies and cakes that you bake or sandwiches?"

Nawal squirmed under Ghazala's ferocious gaze.

"It's about time you learn to cook. You need to learn to make your curries and round rotis. Do you understand me?"

Nawal nodded eagerly.

"No more wasting time in the room. Now get to work. Slice some onions. Today you are going to make palak paneer (spinach and cottage cheese curry)."

Nawal hurriedly followed her mother's instruction and cooked the vegetarian curry. When it was time to eat, Nawal gazed at her father and youngest brother in anticipation that perhaps they will compliment the food. But instead they continued to eat in silence. Finally, unable to bear not knowing how the food is, she blurted, "How is palak paneer? I made it." She beamed.

Arbaaz sneered, "You?" he laughed harder, "No wonder it's so ewww."

Nawal eyebrows furrowed, "Heyyyy..."

"Calm down beti. It's lovely. For first try it is very good." Shabbir said and helped himself for a second serving, "Look I want to eat more of it." He raised his plate in emphasis.

Nawal grinned showing off her glimmering white teeth, "Oh Daddy thank you." She turned to Arbaaz and stuck out her tongue at him.

"Dad is just being nice. I am telling you the truth." He said smugly.

"Stop it Arbaaz or else I won't make the double dark chocolate cookies for you."

In silent mirth, Arabaaz shoulders shook as he lowered his head and took a bite of roti filled with curry, "You really know how to bribe me."

"I always win." Nawal laughed softly.

Shabbir lovingly glanced at his daughter and silently prayed that there will always be a smile on her lips and the music of her laughter may remain forever.

But he didn't know was that his supplication was not to be heard for years to come. After the following next three months, Nawal will forget to smile and laugh for very long time.

Happiness will be snatched away from her.

Replacing despair and loneliness...

****

"Aaaah Nawal, I am so tired," Daud laid down on his bed and rubbed his eyes and placed the phone on his ear.

"Why don't you go to sleep then?" Nawal suggested sitting cross-legged on her bed, it was after dinner and Nawal had just come up in her room after washing the dishes.

"Yes I will in a while. I wanted to hear your voice." He said huskily.

Nawal was speechless unable to respond.

"I miss you so much." He whispered.

"Me too," she whispered back.

He was about to suggest to meet up when Nawal spoke, "Can I call you in 15-20 minutes? I haven't prayed my Isha salah yet."

"Ok no problem I will call you in half an hour," Daud immediately agreed.

As he put down the phone, he sat up on the bed and decided to pray as well. In the last few weeks, Nawal's small reminders made him offer his salah as well. And now he was praying 1-2 prayers a day. He even bought a prayer mat, an asset that had been missing in his home. But most of all, he got the greatest possession. A copy of the Quran. As a young boy his father had made him go to the local mosque for the Quran classes and he had completed the recitation of the Quran once. But since then he had never opened it again. Now he glanced at the Quran on his desk. He will start reading from today, he determined.

After his isha salah, again his eyes flickered to the Quran. With trembling hands, he opened the copy in decades and recited. And as he recited all the Tajweed rules he had studied came back to him. But more so, he wanted to understand the meaning. Reading the first surah (chapter) brought goose bumps in his arms as he read,

His eyes lifted from the Quran and he pondered. All these years, he had distanced himself from his religion in anger as to how he had been treated. He had completely ignored the teachings. His anger had been towards Allah as to why he was being treated as such when it wasn't even his fault.

Was it wrong to be half white?

Was it wrong to have a Christian mother?

But now gazing down at the verses, his eyes watered, no matter how angry he had been deep down in his heart he had known the Merciful was watching him and taking care of him. He may had forgotten his path for years but no he was not astray completely. Because if he never prayed through his lips, his aching heart prayed. Each and every night, laying in loneliness. A lone tear dropped on the open page of Quran and a sigh left his lips.

"Ya Allah show me the Straight Path, the path of those who thou hast favoured..."

He had only Allah and his parents. No one else in this world.

Just then his phone had rung. He glanced at the screen, Nawal's name was flashing.

He smiled, and now he had Nawal.

His Nawal.

****

"You are saying you want to go to the Easter Rising Parade this Sunday? Don't you know we don't celebrate Easter." Fumed Ghazala, lowering her reading glasses to the tip of her nose to gaze at her daughter.

"I am going with my friends. It's not celebrating Easter, Mom. It's the celebration of the 100 years since the independence of Ireland from the British Empire." Nawal tried to explain.

Fixing her glasses again, Ghazala simply said, "No" as she continued to mend Arbaaz's shirt.

"But..." she voiced her objection but Ghazala glared at her and Nawal's voice died in her throat.

Just then, Shabbir sauntered in the living room and sat beside his daughter, he had one look at her and he scowled, "What's the matter Nawal?"

"I wanted to go to the Easter Rising Parade but Mom said no." her shoulders slouched.

Ghazala didn't bother to look concerned and continued to stitch the button on the shirt. "Go then, I am telling you. I heard it will be great event." Shabbir said, encircling his arm around his daughter's shoulders.

Ghazala's head shot up, "What?"

But Nawal was oblivious to her mother's disapproval, "Really?"

He nodded, "Of course go and enjoy. Besides you will be married woman next year too busy then inshaa Allah."

Nawal squealed, "Oh thank you thank you," kissing her father's cheek she dashed out of the room.

Ghazala gritted her teeth, "Why did you let her? You know how it is at a parade, drinking, flirting what not."

"She is old enough to take care of herself," Shabbir said without looking at his wife and instead paid his attention on the newspaper laying on the coffee table.

Meanwhile, Nawal had rushed to her room and immediately dialled Daud's number. He answered the call at the second ring.

"Hello, Daud. Guess what? Baba agreed." She gushed.

"Did you tell him who you are going with?" Daud asked gently.

Biting her lip, "No I just mentioned I wanted to go."

"You should have said then, Nawal."

"But what if he had said no?" Nawal mused out loud.

"Okay I will talk to him."

Hours later, Shabbir received the phone call from his future son in law. He was surprised as there was minimal contact between them. Nevertheless, after pleasantries, Daud spoke out the reason for calling. "Uncle, I would like to let you know Nawal will be going with me to the parade. I hope that will be okay with you."

Shabbir's gaze had frozen on the television screen. He was shocked that Nawal didn't mention this. His respect for his future son in law at that moment increased tenfold. "I trust you. Take care of her."

"Inshaa Allah, I will."

It was best Shabbir concealed this information from his wife, who would make a fuss. It was better this way not to involve his wife regarding Nawal relationship with her fiancé. Ghazala had never been happy about this engagement. Besides, it was common these days where engaged couples spent time together. He was a liberal father believing in giving their children their freedom. But most of all, he trusted his daughter dearly.

But would Shabbir's trust be broken?

****

"Oh so many people. Gosh, I had no idea it would be this crowded," muttered Nawal through the crowd as she tried to find a place on the crowded street to view the parade. She squeezed between people to finally make her way to the metal barricades to have a clear view of the parade. Daud was right behind her, holding her hand so that he didn't lose her. He hated coming to such events but he had only agreed because Nawal wanted. Now seeing her excitement, he had let go of his resentment.

"I think it is going to start," Nawal exclaimed without glancing back at Daud as she held on the barricade fence. There were two men on each side of her and they constantly rubbed their arm against Nawal due to such a tight space. Nawal was oblivious, she was overjoyed about the parade to care. But Daud didn't like that. He was possessive, when it came to someone belonging to him. Taking the final step, closing the gap between him and Nawal, he glided his arm around her waist. Her back was pressed to his chest. He then lowered his head so that his lips lightly grazed her cheek. She gasped as she felt the warmth seeping from his arms to her body. Even though she was wearing three layers of clothes in this dreadful cold spring day, she could feel his warmth. Her heart hammered loudly and she stilled at the position she was standing in.

"I don't let anyone touch what is mine," he said hoarsely near her hijab clad ear. Then he lightly kissed her cheek. He had much more in his mind but the cheer of the crowd distracted them and together they watched the parade. The security of Daud's arms appeased Nawal's heart.

Hours later when finally, the parade had finished and the crowd was dissipating, hand in hand they walked on the main town streets. Daud squeezed her hand, "My office is not so far away from here. Just five minutes' walk. And since its off today, no one will be there. Why don't we get a take away and eat in some peace and quiet?"

She anxiously thought of her spiteful mother, "It is getting late, what about Mom?"

"Don't worry that's taken care of." He winked.

She faltered in her steps, "What do you mean?"

"I had spoken to Uncle and let him know you were coming with me." He said, gently tugging her in the direction of his office.

"Oh I didn't know. Well," she paused, following him on the busy street, "I guess it's alright then."