Part 11

Dear Diary

“Sweety, how did you hear about this?” Mum asked.

“I was passing Dad’s study,” I confessed.

“Your father says you’re too young and he doesn’t like Salmaan but I’ll see what I can do, do you like Salmaan?” Mum asked.

“His my type,” I admitted turning red.

“Its not a definite yes but I’d like to consider it,” I said.

“I think you should do, I will try Dad again,” Mum assured me.

It was a pleasant jummah and Dad was in a good mood for once in his life but my mood was sombre. I was dying on the inside. Couldn’t he get my opinion first? Couldn’t he ask me? I wanted to get married!

Mum confronted Dad after lunch before he went to the office.

“F***, no Ruqayyah is still small,” Dad said not even giving us a hearing.

How many a parents do this? How many don’t let their daughters get married even when they want to. My father was trying to refuse the proposal behind my back but I heard, not like it helped me, I could do nothing. Life was just so damn frustrating….

In todays time I’ve seen so many parents not allow their kids to get married even when they’re interested and I thought ill highlight it here


Dear Diary

I tiptoed closer to the study door, I didn’t want to eavesdrop but I had to because Husnaa obviously couldn’t be getting a proposal and if it was Mummy’s sister’s son it was definitely Salmaan. So he did try after all?

“Understand that it’s my sister’s son Aadil, I can’t just tell her no,” Mum said trying to reason with my Dad.

“Ruqayyah can’t f***** marry a f***** moulana!” My father shouted.

No, no, what was he doing?

I rushed off to my room and burst into tears. I wanted to marry Salmaan! Why couldn’t my father ask me? Why was he making his own decisions on behalf of me?

Damn! I was so frustrated and tired of this father from hell.

I wanted to dial Salmaan’s number but I knew he wouldn’t answer, he probably wanted to make this right.

I wanted to too, so acting on instinct I went to my mother and tried to speak to her.

“Mum, I wanted to ask you something,” I said.

“Yes sweetheart?” Mum asked, looking up from her pot of chevda that she stirred.

“I heard you and Dad in the study,” I began.

“Hmmmm,” My mother hummed.

“Could you convince Dad to say yes, I’d like to consider the proposal,” I said. The look on my mother’s face was priceless.

Till next time


A Sinner


Part 9- What on earth?

Dear Diary

Sometimes you just need to think about something and reflect on your doings and that’s just what I did.

Had I wore proper purdah none of these would’ve happened, so when the next weekend rolled by and we went to Pietermaritzburg, I didn’t remove my niqaab when we entered the house.

“Ruqayyah sweety,” Mummy said.

“No Mummy, I’m not taking it off,” I said. This time I wasn’t going to.

“F***! So hectic,” Yahya remarked. Salmaan was obviously staying away and it was painful.

Zaynab and I chatted but since I started niqaab she wasn’t too proud of me.

The weekend was still blissful, even though my father was mad at me.

He literally swore me the whole way home because I was embarrassing him, I didn’t even know how.

Salmaan’s absence wasn’t easy on me. I was slightly angry with him when a month passed by and he didn’t even call me or talk to me once.

It was a sunny Wednesday morning when I was walking pass my father’s office and heard his loud voice against my mother’s soft pleading voice.

“Please Aadil, its my sister’s son,” My mum pleaded.

“F*** him! She’s too small and will never marry that b*****!” My father screamed.

Oh no! What was he doing without consulting me?

Till next time…


A sinner


Part 8: BROKEN

Dear Diary

The regret and remorse I felt after that was half killing me.

I felt so dirty so I went and had a ghusl, while salty tears streamed down my face.

What had I done?

Salmaan and I conveniently avoided eye contact or each other that night and the next day.

It was the first time in weeks that I was relieved to go home.

Salmaan had left a note in my handbag which I didn’t have to courage to read, but when I went home I opened it and read it.

Ruqayyah, I would like to apologise to you for letting things escalate out of control. I have realised that I am mostly to blame. Please forgive me. I would request you to please block me on WhatsApp as well as Instagram and I will block you too. Also please can you wear niqaab from me, even if I’m the only cousin you wear it from and I will play my part of looking down. We have let Shaytaan blow us away and I do not want to fall deeper into his trap.


I read the letter with tears in my eyes. Salmaan wanted to break up? I knew I shouldn’t feel sad but I couldn’t help it.

Salmaan was right. I had to start observing strict purdah, had I done that, I wouldn’t be in this difficult predicament.

Everyday I waited in anticipation for his phone call, but it never came and I felt broken. He used me and dumped me.

Weekend rolled around once more, it was time to start wearing niqaab properly….

Till next time…


A sinner



Assalamu Alaikum

Hope ya’ll are well.

Sometimes I help my mum with her madressah students but they’re exceptionally rude 2 me. They don’t listen n just run a racket. Any suggestions or Opinions?

Part 8: The last straw

Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem

Dear diary

“So how’s the hifz going?” Salmaan questioned as Salmaan, Zaynab, Yusuf and I sat in the lounge, chattering away casually.

Everyone had grown quite and were playing on their devices, with the exception of Salmaan and I. I found it extremely unethical to do in public, especially since were talking. We were visiting Sahlah Khala’s house.

With Yahya, I barely spoke, but Salmaan and just got along, there was a zing, maybe it was because both of us are different compared to the rest, so we could relate.

“Alhamdulillah, its going well, how’s madrassah?” I replied.

“Shukr, its going well. You know we have to sacrifice for deen, the sahaabah sacrificed so much, our test of family is paltry compared to theirs. You know there’s a story I’ve heard before, but when Moulana explained it I fully understood it,” Salmaan said, luring me towards him with this beautiful story and that’s how shaytaan works sometimes in the disguise of deen.

Abu Bakr R.A migrates with Nabi S.A.W to Madeena, with all his wealth. He leaves nothing for his family.

His daughter Asmaa R.A tells her grandfather he had left khayr because se understood that he had indeed left khayr.

And as Salmaan went on, I was entranced by what he said and continued wanting more, until eventually only the two of us remained in the lounge completely secluded since someone had closed the door. We continued joking around and talking like there was no tomorrow.

“Oh Ruqayyah, do you know how much I love you?” Salmaan asked suddenly after a silent moment.

I felt my cheeks warm up as he casually swung his arm around me, making me feel comfortable and continued talking.

I yawned tiredly as we spoke about the sahaabah R.A, whilst we held hands.

One of the kids suddenly came into the lounge to look for their toy, so Salmaan left my hand and pretended to be busy on his phone while I shivered away, since the cold wind was coming in through the opened door.

Alarm bells were ringing in my head, warning me that I wasn’t supposed to be alone with Salmaan but I ignored it.

The kid found his toy and ran out of the lounge eagerly, slamming the door behind him. All the kids were excited because everyone was going out for milkshake apart from Salmaan and I, who didn’t drink KFC milkshake since it was doubtful.

I wrapped my arms around my shivering body, the cold was eating me… literally.

Salmaan grabbed me into a fierce embrace, warming me up immediately. There was some guilt at the back of my mind, but I was too comfortable to let the guilt stop me.

Eventually one thing led to another and we were making out like two sick lovers passionately in the lounge.

We were on fire as Salmaan placed his lips on mine, we were passionate in our love for each other.

Salmaan suddenly picked me up in true Bollywood style to his room where we proceeded to break all barriers between us. I felt like I was on another planet.

Just as we were about to do the actual act, filled with passion and elation, regret filled me. I blocked my path, not cared that it might anger Salmaan, I was angering my rabb.

“Astaghfirullah!” I exclaimed.

Salmaan immediately stepped back, with a regretful expression on his face.

Tears welled my in eyes, as I remained put on his bed for a few minutes.

How far had I gone? I had just almost shared the bed with someone unlawful.

“Ruqayyah,” Salmaan choked out.

“Jee?” I asked, too ashamed to even glance at him.

“I’m sorry… so sorry, please please go,” Salmaan begged through tears.

I picked up my abayaa which was on th floor and quickly wore it, before leaving his room.

O Allah, what have a done?

Till next time


A sinner


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Part 7: Ocean Deep

Bismillahir Rahmaanir Raheem

Dear diary

Life has been so awesome. Salmaan calls me everyday and we chat away. It’s been affecting my work a bit but I can’t stop myself.

I always knew it was wrong to have a boyfriend and I looked down on others but now I’m ocean deep in sins.

Salmaan actually came by in his busy week to see Mum but I know his lying, he came to see me.

We went upstairs into my room for the chit chat. He was my cousin so my Mum didn’t mind.

I never thought I would come to the point where I exposed my hair in front of Salmaan.

“Such lovely hair, MashaAllah!” Salmaan praised.

I was floating, did he actually love me?

We spoke about deen, yes deen! We had ta’leem and he thought me a lesson from Riyadh us Salihin.

“You really pick on well, MashaAllah,” Salmaan said.

When Salmaan went, a hole formed in my heart, it felt like a part of me was gone.

We thought we were just friends, but we were ocean deep in sin.

Till next time


A sinner

Part 6- Drowning in sin

Dear Diary

The worst part about leaving Camperdown for me, was leaving Salmaan too. He was so understanding and deeni orientated, he helped me through the dark.

“If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away,” Salmaan kindly offered.

My routine was the same boring routine like last week on Monday.

The best part about Monday was I completed twenty second para. I was elated.

“Ruqs, Salmaan’s on the phone,” Yusuf called from the passage. He answered the passage phone.

Butterflies erupted in my tummy, my Salmaan was on the phone.

Salmaan and I literally spoke till it was almost Fajr. It was nothing haraam, just about Islam.

My parents didn’t figure out anything or see that anything was wrong. They just thought that we were cousins.

Salmaan’s absence in the week wasn’t so tough on me as he called me everyday and we spoke till around Fajr but I was yearning to see his handsome face and brilliant smile.

I blocked my father’s swearing out, because Salmaan made it easier to bare although I never spoke about my father to him.

I was feeling guilty about our conversations and it was taking a toll on my body.

“Mum, I’m tired today, I’m not going to school,” I informed Mum on Friday morning. I needed to sleep because I barely did for the whole week.

It was our chance to get the entire family by this week; the worst thing, because I wouldn’t get to talk to Salmaan, I’d have to help Mummy.

I always wore an abaya around the family men since I started abaya, so I decided to go ahead and wear my newest branded abaya, a Hibah Homayra abaya with a lipstick trinket and a floral red and pink hijaab.

“Sweety, don’t you want to wear jeans or something?” Mum asked.

I put my foot down, I wasn’t going to. Salmaan and I were already deep and I could do nothing. Showing him my shape would add to the fire of haraam.

In our families we never ever ate separate. Salmaan always sat between Yusuf and Yahya or one of the small children. I tried to do the same too.

At night everyone decided that they wanted to go to a local Casino to play bowling. I downright refused, my Apa had time and again told us not step near to the place as Allah’s Azaab can come at any time.

“You will come,” Dad said.

“It’s okay Aadil Masagee. I’m not coming too, I’ll stay with Ruqayyah,” Salmaan said. I loved the way he said my name, pronouncing the qaf with th right makhaarij.

My father agreed, because Salmaan is too sweet to decline. I honestly wantedto hug him there and then for that, but I didn’t want everyone to get suspicious.

After everyone left, Salmaan and I sat outside by the pool, enjoying the breeze as we read ta’leem from fadhaail A’maal.

We thought we were doing good yet in reality we were drowning in sin…

Till next time


A sinner


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