Chapter Seven: A Marriage Proposal

"Have you ever done anything that offended him?" Zainab asked, casting Nadiah a meaningful look.

"No," Nadiah said, her eyebrows knotting together as she began to contemplate her friend's words. Her slender fingers were plucking the petals of a wild lily and throwing them into the pristine river, the discarded petals flowing along with the currents. A few birds could be heard chirping merrily from atop the trees but Nadiah was too distraught to pay attention to nature. "I don't think I have."

"Are you very sure of that?"

Nadiah argued. "I'm positive, Nab. We parted on good terms. I sent him off at the train station the morning he left. I saw him; waving at me, his parents, my parents and the other villagers before boarding the train."

Zainab agreed hesitantly. "Well... since you put it that way, I guess. But why has he been avoiding you for the last three years?"

A sigh left Nadiah's lips. " That's the answer I would like to know myself. I sent him a letter a month after he left, and two more times after that but no reply. So I stopped sending. I thought perhaps I got the address wrong or maybe the letters got lost but I was too embarrassed to confirm with his mother the address. "

She threw the remains of the flower into the waters, watching it float. "But... after what happened on Thursday afternoon, I'm sure he hates me and I don't even know why or what I have done. Could it be the fruits? Or me smacking into him? He didn't seem too pleased about either occasion."

After a long stretch of silence, Zainab said, "I think it is better you ask him."

Nadiah's eyes widened. "N-no! I don't want."

Zainab raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want to know the truth? Ask! It doesn't hurt to ask, does it?"

"But what if he doesn't answer me?" Nadiah challenged, reaching for a rubble. "Or what if he admits that he hates me?"

Zainab was quiet after that.

"See..." Nadiah pointed out with a sigh, hurling the rubble and watching it sink into the river. "You don't even know what to do right?"

***

December was coming to an end much sooner than Nadiah had expected, marking it close to a month since Maa'rof had returned to the village. Over the last couple of weeks, there was no improvement. She had not spoken a word to him after the fruits incident. She would sight him once in a while around the village whenever she was at the market, going about doing her chores or fetching errands. It was true what Zainab had said about him.

The several occasions she saw him before she turned away; he was alone. Occasionally accompanied by his cousin, Jamal, but mostly, alone. While most village men could be found engaging in idle talk with a cup of coffee or focused on a game of chess and the like at coffee shops, Maa'rof could not be found among them. It was as though he had distant himself from society.

She had voiced this to Zainab and once again, her friend had urged her to approach him. But she dared not to. Despite not mingling with the other village men, Maa'rof had earned a new level of respect from the villagers ever since he assumed the role of an Ustadh. (Religious teacher) Many looked up to him: Children, teenagers and even adults. The teenage boys wanted to be like him so they strived hard during Tajweed (Quran pronunciations) lessons. Young men would consult him on matters pertaining to the Deen (Islam). Unwed maidens wished they would have a spouse like him and parents hoped Maa'rof would consider their daughter for a bride.

"There he goes," Munirah said, elbowing her friend, Raudhah, to look. Nadiah looked up from examining the potatoes in the cart and followed their gazes across the end of the road. Maa'rof was walking with a folder in hand, unaware of the eyes watching him.

"He's so handsome." Munirah sighed with a dreamy look.

Raudhah agreed. "Yes he is rather fine looking."

"I hope he will propose to me!" Something inside Nadiah's stomach stirred upon hearing that statement. The two girls returned their attention back to picking the vegetables and Nadiah quickly picked up the nearest potato in front of her and pretended to examine it.

"Well dream on...because every other village girl wants to marry him," Raudhah said making Munirah pout.

Raudhah chuckled. "But you know what I've heard?"

"What?"

"Aidah has set her sights on him. She's planning to propose to him!"

"What! Which Aidah are you referring to?" Munirah asked, turning her body so that she was fully facing Raudhah." Is it even proper for a woman to propose to a man? "

"Aidah....the daughter of Pakcik Norman," Raudhah said, gesturing with her hands. "The pretty, fair and slim one?"

"Oh! I know which one!"

"Well yes, her..." Raudhah went on. "And actually it is permissible for a woman to initiate the proposal instead of the man. That's what Siti Khadijah Radiallahu 'anhaa did. She proposed to Prophet Muhammad Sallahu allayhim wassalam through her cousin and became his first wife. "

"Really..." Munirah answered thoughtfully. A smile crept onto her face as she held a tomato in her grasp. "Maybe I should do that before Aidah does!"

"You are not really serious on that, are you?"

Munirah crossed her arms. "Why not? "

"I'm not sure whether Aidah is really pursuing the marriage. That's only a rumour I heard. But you aren't allowed to propose to him when you know someone else plans to do that. "

Munirah scoffed. "Fine..."

"You know I'm right." Raudhah told her with a wink as she sorted through the pile of long beans.

Munirah brought about a change of subject and Nadiah tuned off her ears as she finished choosing the potatoes and dumped it into the small rattan basket. She handed the basket to the vegetables seller - a Chinese man with a balding scalp who wore a thin white t-shirt and cotton shorts. He tipped the contents into the manual weighing scale. The needle pointed to three.

"That would be twenty cents." He told her in Malay, yanking a plastic bag and bagging the potatoes.

She paid him and turned on her heel. She just needed to make one more stop at a spice store owned by an Indian man. She passed a cobbler who was busy mending the sole of a shoe and a few food carts. Some were ran by Malays and therefore, halal (permissible) for consumption and others were run by Chinese folks. A few roasted pigs were hung upside down on display at the Chinese carts, the Chinese hawkers were busy butchering the pork into smaller pieces and preparing meals for their customers who were mostly Chinese as they weren't Muslims.

While Malays were the indigenous people of Pulau Ujong, the island was also populated by Hadhrami Arabs; Chinese; Indians; various ethnic groups of Indonesians; Dutch, British and Portuguese. Many of the ancestors were traders and merchants who immigrated to the tiny island since the early eighteenth century and have made it their homes since then. Despite the differences in race, background and religious beliefs the people lived harmoniously, co-existing together.

Entering the shop, Nadiah went straight to the counter and asked the man behind it for the spices she wanted to buy. Once he was done packing them, Nadiah started on her journey home. The first thing she saw when she entered the premises of her home was a trishaw parked right in front of the house. The driver was sitting on a small stool next to the trishaw and reading newspapers. He looked up for a moment when he heard her footsteps, cleared his throat before holding up his newspaper again. She briefly noticed that he wore a straw hat, is quite thin and is a Chinese.

She turned her attention back to the house. Someone or a family probably had dropped by to visit. But who? She thought as she wandered closer. It definitely couldn't be her neighbours since the visitors had hired a trishaw just to come here. It definitely had to be someone from another village or someone who lived far away.

She heard a man's chuckle coming from inside the living room.

"Well let's just put it this way, Hassan." She heard the clinking of a tea cup being set on the table. "No need for the formalities, shall we? We've known each other since young. Aminah also had known Sumayyah for a long time. So, we are practically family! I know my son is quite the unreliable and irresponsible fellow in the past; but he had bucked up. Two weeks ago he turned up at my workplace - for the first time without me having to force him - and asking me to teach him how to run a business; saying that he wants to start assuming responsibilities."

Nadiah reached near the foot of the steps, deciding it best not to make it known of her return yet. She felt feverish. Not because they were discussing about marriage, but because it was not just anyone's marriage but hers!

" Of course at first, I thought he had cracked because this is Harun we are talking about! But even after I laughed at him and told him he can return home that day as there wasn't much work to allocate to him, he still insisted on staying and he did. He had been showing up punctually every day since. Even my workers complimented him!

And so, I can safely declare that he has turned over a new leaf. A few days ago, Harun sat down with me during lunch time and told me he wishes to marry your daughter. We believe your daughter will make a good wife, and he, a good husband. Look at them, they are meant for each other! They were childhood friends and had grown up together. And we would love to have your daughter as our daughter-in-law. So what do you say?"

Nadiah held her breath, clinging on to every word. Her pulse racing as she waited for her parents' reply.

It was her father who answered. "Uh...we are very honoured that you're considering our daughter and we would love to have Harun as-"

"Oh of course. No need for thanks!" She heard Harun's mother, Sumayyah, interrupt. She peeked at the adults sitting in the living room. Harun's parents, Yahya and Sumayyah, were sitting together on the long wooden furniture; her parents sat adjacent to them.

Sumayyah continued. "So, when do you think the wedding should be held? How about two months from now? And holding the Nikkah {Solemnization} on a Friday night and the Walimah {Reception} the day after? Or is it too short of a notice to book a food caterer? "

She turned to her husband. "Abang, will you be inviting your British contacts? Ah! We have to make a guest list!"

Nadiah saw her mother exchanging looks with her father while Sumayyah rambled on about making it a grand affair. She felt an alarming panic rising in her system. This could not be happening. She didn't even have a say in the matter!

It was Aminah who interjected Sumayyah's babbles. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but this marriage isn't confirmed yet. We haven't asked Nadiah whether she is agreeable to this arrangement as much as we would love to have Harun as our son-in-law. My apologies once again, but could you allow us some time on the matter and we will get back to you soon?"

Slightly relieved, Nadiah watched Harun's parents' facial expressions as they exchanged glances. Yahya nodded his head."Very well, I understand. We need to get permission from the lady herself."

Sumayyah's tone had changed slightly. "And when will we hear from you?"

"In five days."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why so long?"

"We want to allow our daughter time to think it through. I'm sure Harun would be willing to wait. After all, this isn't a play thing. It's marriage we're talking about," Aminah responded in a calm manner.

Hassan reassured. "InsyaAllah, we will let you know of her decision in five day's time."

Yahya drank his last drop of tea and stood up. "Alright then, we will be taking our leave now." He offered his hand to salam Hassan while Aminah took Sumayyah's hand in hers.

Nadiah quickly slipped into her backyard and hid behind the bathhouse. She watched the couple get onto the trishaw while the Chinese driver kept the stool he sat on earlier in a storage box and got on the bicycle.

Yahya gave the salam. "Assalamualaikum wahrahmatullahi wabarakahtu!" [Muslim greeting: May Peace be upon you with God's blessings and prosper.]

Her parents answered in unison."Walaikumsalam wahrahmatullahi wabarakahtu." [May Peace be upon you with God's blessings and prosper too]

***

Author's Note:

Additional info for non-muslim readers who don't already know or are wondering; Muslims don't eat pork or drink alcohol. So that's why we don't buy food from non-muslim people due to our dietary restrictions. BUT, there are eateries owned by non-muslims which are certified halal (permissible for our consumption as there's no pork or alcohol) so we do eat there.

If you want to know more, message me or comment here and I'll give you a detailed explanation.

And if you're interested in reading another Muslim story, please check out my other story "Dearest Mum and Dad, With Love." It's a coming-of-age story which follows the life of a Muslim girl who craves social acceptance and abandons her morals and values just to do so. Major themes: Peer Pressure, Filial Piety, Family, Morals and Values. It's a serious story meant to educate.

Thank you so much for reading, everyone! ^^