by S. Nahar
“Listen here,” I whispered, leaning close so only he could hear, “I don’t care whether you choose to ignore or hate me for the rest of the year, but keep religion out of it. Have some decency to be at least respectful to other people’s beliefs.”
“Aren’t you a little fireball?”
“Whatever.”
He was about to say more until the bell rang. I was the first to get out of class. The nerve of that guy! I wanted to punch him. He had to get off his high horse, as he wasn’t the king of this school. I hated those types of people who acted like the world revolved around them, especially this guy who was the epitome of an arrogant high school senior.
***
Lunch came around fast. I went to sit at my usual table that consisted of my awesome but weird friends.
“Trouble in paradise?” Aria teased.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“Don’t play dumb with me. Damon seems to be all over you,” she giggled.
“Yeah, no. I don’t have time to waste on that fool. We were just talking about the project, and then he started to subtly insult me,” I huffed. “The nerve of that boy disturbs me.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Tasneem smiled, as she fixed her hijab using her phone camera.
Everyone laughed because she was partially correct. Many students did get on my nerves, but Damon pulsed the venom through my veins with his hateful words. Although it was a subtle comment, it weighed a lot heavier on my shoulders. Muslims at our school were already struggling through their days, but adding someone like Damon to the mix only made things worse.
My laughter ceased after seeing a displeasing sight. Across the lunchroom was Damon, with Maya, sitting on his lap. They were whispering only Allah knows what to each other. I could only imagine. I was deep in thought until someone snapped their fingers before my eyes.
“Amira, are you even paying attention to the conversation?” Tasneem asked.
“Sorry. Could you repeat that?”
She sighed.
“I was saying that Damon is a known flirt. Don’t get too fond of him. He crushes a girl’s heart, and then moves on to his next interest. Don’t fall for it.”
“Who said anything about falling in love? I already have too much on my plate to deal with him.”
“I had an older brother to worry about,” I added silently.
Damon could rot in the darkest depths of hell for all I care.
Chapter 2
Story Time
Amira Sarker
I woke up to yelling, and groaned at having to get up at five in the morning. I already prayed, so I tried to catch a little more sleep before school. Desperate for more sleep, I covered my ears with pillows, trying to muffle the voices.
It didn’t work.
Finally deciding to find the source of the yelling, I stood up, determined to give them a piece of my mind. Opening the door, I saw Baba and Tanwir arguing again.
“How could you come home so late last night? You had us worried sick!” Baba exclaimed.
“I was just out with some friends, playing soccer,” Tanwir mumbled. Man, he could be so stupid sometimes. Who in their right minds would go outside in the middle of the night and play soccer, especially in a Bengali community?
“At midnight? Are you crazy? Do you even know how unsafe America can be during night time?” Mum shouted. I flinched at her tone. It’s like five in the morning and my parents were already shouting.
“I know what I’m doing, Mum. You guys are just worrying too much,” Tanwir shrugged off. Bad move, buddy.
“Worry too much? You didn’t even tell us you would leave! Where is the communication?” Baba yelled.
“You guys should have just called,” Tanwir muttered.
I face palmed myself. He was asking for more trouble than he already was in.
“But you never answer! Tanwir, I don’t want you going outside at midnight. You could have been reading Islamic books to increase your knowledge,” said Baba.
“Yes, Baba,” Tanwir rolled his eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, son. Your time here in this world is limited. You should be trying to increase your iman (faith) during this time,” Baba glared.
Tanwir just glared back at him and went to his room, slamming the door loudly. Geez, what’s his problem?
Baba sighed and went up to my mother. Mum hugged him and sobbed a little. I hate seeing how depressed my parents are and I could feel their pain.
“Mum, he’s just having a tough time now. I once went to this Youth Conference, and one of the speakers said it was normal for young Muslims between the ages of eighteen to twenty-five to lose their faith. Just don’t stop being the good Muslim parents you are. In Shaa Allah (If God wills it) he will come around,” I said softly, and went back to my room.
It was already six. I got ready for school, carefully pinning my scarf around my head, ensuring all hair had been hidden under the cloth. When I was done, Baba came into my room.
“I’ll drop you off to school today. I have something I need to talk to you about,” he said, before walking out.
A dread feeling came upon me. I felt as if I was in trouble. My parents had never asked me for a talk, and the idea of being trapped in a moving vehicle with them as they yell at me, terrified me to no end. Oh Allah, save me.
***
“I’m very impressed by you and so is your mother. What you said today gave us an idea,” Baba started as he drove the car, his Bengali accent occasionally slurring over his words.
“What kind of idea?” I asked.
“Did you know that in most Muslim families, it’s the older sibling who finds the truth of Islam and becomes the role model to their younger siblings?” he questioned.
I nodded my head.
“Well, in our family, it’s you. You found peace and guidance in Islam, and saw what a wonderful religion it is. You’re the role model to Tanwir now,” he sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“Meaning, I want you to help him,” he stated calmly.
“But—”
“He listens to you. He has a very strong love for you as his sister. Have you ever noticed that he calms down as soon as you enter the room? You’re the one who can reach out to him better. That’s why I want you to help,” he cut me off.
“Okay,” I answered, getting out of the car.
Giving me a responsibility really scared me. I wanted to help Tanwir with all my heart, but would he actually listen to his little sister? It almost seemed unbelievable that he would or even attempt to acknowledge my advice. I sighed, as I entered the school doors. Perhaps one day, Allah will show him the right path.
***
I walked to my history class after taking my things from the locker room. Of course, Damon was there, talking to his friends. For a new guy, he sure fit in really quick. My footsteps echoed as I walked, allowing students to glimpse at me for a moment. Damon’s gaze, however, lingered longer than the rest. I ignored his burning gaze, wishing he’d stop. He had that same cautious look that swirled around his green eyes like a glowing ember. Something about me bothered him, and I was betting a lot of imaginary money that it was my beliefs, judging from his comments in class.
Snapping himself back to reality, he caught up with me. “We’re still meeting at the library, right?” Damon asked.
“Huh? Oh yeah. Right after school. Don’t forget,” I said.
He nodded, and walked off to his group of friends. Something about him made me feel odd, almost a little pressured when he stared at me. I shook my head; he was just another guy.
***
Damon was in four of my classes; English, History, Science, and Gym. I saw him more often toward the end of the day. His mere presence in multiple of my classes was starting to bother me. I didn’t want to see him at all; I had an instant dislike toward him.
Spotting my group of friends at a table nearby, I waved and joined them for lunch. I had to stop bombarding my mind with Damon be
cause he was irrelevant to me. I tuned into my friends’ conversation.
“Have you guys ever read The Mortal Instruments?” Aria asked.
“Yeah, I read the first two books. Why?” I asked.
“In the fourth book, two of the characters named Jace and Simon go into a market. There’s this girl who come up to Jace and was like ‘Can I touch your mangos?’ and she wasn’t talking about the fruit,” Aria smirked.
We all laughed except for my other non-Muslim friend, Meredith.
“Oh my. That just ruined mangos for me now,” I grinned.
“I know right! I was like that girl has some naughty thoughts going on there,” Aria said as she wiggled her eyebrows.
“Wait, I’m lost. Why is that so funny?” Meredith asked, confused.
We all looked at her. “Mangos, as in a guy’s jewels,” Tasneem said.
It took a while for Meredith to realize what that meant until her face twisted in disgust.
“That’s gross.”
“It is, but hey! That’s how messed up society is nowadays,” Aria shrugged.
“True, but seriously, I will never look at mangos the same way again,” Meredith groaned.
We erupted into a bubbling laughter once again, enjoying each other’s company. Friends were the real reason I came to school, because it didn’t matter if I was having a horrible day. They always reminded me that everyday could be a great day with the right people.
***
Before I knew it, it was time to tell Damon the Seerah (biography) of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him).
I packed up my things and went to the library, impatiently waiting for Damon. Glancing at the clock, I wondered, where in the world is he?! I had studying to get to. After a couple of more waiting minutes, he came in.
“Alright, let’s start this thing.”
“Okay, so Muhammad (peace be upon him) was the last prophet of Islam-” I started, but was cut off by Damon
“This isn’t going to be another religious lecture. Is it?” Damon groaned.
I rolled my eyes. “Shh. Just listen. Anyway, He’s a leader because he brought a new light to the people of Mecca. He was an honest man and acknowledged the equality and brotherhood of men. Some of his oldest companions were an African slave, Bilaal, an Iranian called Salmaan, and Suhayb of Rome. All of these men came from different places with different culture. However, in his company, they were equal to each other without distinction.”
“What else did he do?” Damon asked in bored tone.
“Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) went through many struggles in life, and lead people on the right path. He was sent with a message from God, but he didn’t just preach it. He practiced it. The moral values and life lessons he taught and showed are important things for all mankind to follow. He also gathered an army to fight in the Battle of Badr. Lastly, Muhammad (peace be upon him) would listen always to the people of Mecca and Medina. He would listen to their problems, and help guide them through it. He was the ideal role model for all mankind,” I finished.
“Impressive. I didn’t know you knew so much.”
“I do try my best,” I shrugged it off.
“Since I don’t have anyone else in mind for this project, let’s just go with this holy guy.”
I nodded, making a couple of side notes for our work. As I was writing, I noticed Damon’s blank expression as he watched the movement of my hands again. He seemed so cautious like a bird without its wings, flapping with all its might to survive in a dangerously cruel world for the weak and helpless. I wondered if he truly feared me.
Were the rumors true? Did he and a Muslim student really fight over their beliefs?
Like a nail shattering the glass of tension between us, “Why do you wear that?” he asked, pointing at my hijab.
“I wear it because my Lord commands it,” I simply replied.
Damon scoffed in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you telling me that your Lord commands you to hide your beauty away? That’s so stupid.”
“No, it’s not. The hijab is a promise and a reminder. It shows the world I’m a Muslim girl. It also shows my dignity and is an act of modesty,” I stated confidently.
“Still, shouldn’t the girl be free?” he asked with a curious gleam in his eyes.
“The girl is free, but she’s very precious in Islam. Women in Islam are considered the diamonds of Islam. When she is a daughter, she opens a gate to Jannah (paradise) for her father. When she is a wife, she completes half the faith of her husband. And when she is a mother, Jannah lies under her feet. That is the status of a Muslim woman in Islam,” I said.
“But still...”
“Think of it this way. She is giving herself self-respect through her various acts of modesty. It’s no secret that there are men who see women as objects of sexual pleasure, but in Islam, the hijab prevents a woman from being ogled and judged purely on her appearance. A hijab is more than just a piece of cloth.”
The fire of ignorance still flared within his eyes, closing the gates to open-mindedness. “Islam treats a woman exactly like an object. Don’t even pull that bullshit on me.”
My defensive walls arose, towering over my tired form with its own magnitude of energy. I was prepared to defend my morals, my beliefs, my Islam.
“Damon, I suggest you stop spewing nonsense,” I said each word, slow and steady as if he was the tiger and I was the trainer. “If you truly understood Islam, you would know that women are not seen as toys in my religion. Historically speaking, it was the first religion to truly give women rights for divorce, court systems, and property. Muslim women had the most freedom.”
His jaw clenched, a vein beginning to pulse on his smooth, white neck. “Islam is a religion that just hurts innocent people. Look around you, Amira. Look at all the destruction and pain Islam has brought to your nation. Look at all the lives that have been lost in wars against the Muslims!”
“Those wars were fought due to nationalism and superiority! Wars don’t happen, but religion tears people apart. It happens because people are imperfect and flawed. It happens because of greed and power. Religion is a barrier that they use. It’s shown throughout history that people of power take advantage of those below them, and crave to dominate inferior people. They also used religion as an excuse when it had nothing to do with it!” I argued fiercely.
Damon stood abruptly, his chair shrieking against the tiled floors. His height dominated me from my seated position, as his piercing glare cut through me like a double-edged sword from ancient times. He practically growled like a beast.
I didn’t back down.
When he continued to stay silent while seething at me in distaste, I began to puzzle some pieces of the rumors in my head.
“Did you get in a fight at your previous school with a Muslim student?” I asked quietly. “Was that why you switched schools?”
His shock was evident in his crumbling visage. “H-How do you know about that?”
“Rumors fly fast.”
“Just… just go away,” he mumbled, as he grabbed his stuff and ran away from me, leaving the ripped pages of his story untold.
Well, that was interesting.
Chapter 3
Mystery Behind Eyes
Amira Sarker
When I went home, I caught Tanwir eating my soft chocolate chip cookies. This jerk had the nerve to eat my cookies. I shook my head before I ran up to him, glaring.
“How dare you eat my cookies? They were mine,” I whined.
He took another cookie and put it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting.
“I didn’t see your name on them. Besides, sharing is caring little sister,” he smirked.
“Since when do you share? You never share with me so you can’t say that,” I retorted.
Just like that, his smirk dropped, and he glared at me. I took the chance, and grabbed my cookies back, taking him by surprise.
“Wha—?”
“Pig,” he mumbled, as he walked away from me.
“Excuse you mister, but that is not the way to talk to a lady,” I said in a fake British accent.
He just ignored me, and walked off to his room. I took my cookies into my personal den and started to do my homework. After an hour, Aria had texted me.
Aria: Can I ask u something?
Me: Sure.
Aria: Do u think Mark still likes me? I feel like he’s avoiding me. I mean, I feel like he’s lost interest in me.
Say what now? The perfect couple was having relationship issues? That was unexpected. I thought Mark was crazy about her.
Me: Where is this coming from???
Aria: He ditched me for the last few days to hang out with a girl, his childhood friend and… I feel like he has some sort of strong feelings for her.
Me: I think he just wants to be around her for a while. Don’t stress it. I know he really likes u. I doubt that he’s gonna leave u for her.
Aria: Idk anymore. I really like him. But I’m also kinda hurt that he just ditched our plans and went with someone else.
Me: I agree that it wasn’t right for him to ditch both of ur plans like that. Just give him some time. Give him space until then. Boys r idiots at romance. But ur quiet attitude should snap him out of it.
Aria: I’ll try and thanks :)
I smiled; feeling satisfied that I could help my friends. Dropping my phone, I continued writing mathematical equations onto my notebook.
***
Deciding to reward myself for my productivity, I went downstairs to watch a movie. I was turning the television on, when I heard Tanwir’s footsteps thundering against the staircase like a storm had followed him all the way down. He was about to walk out the door when I stopped him.
“Where are you going?” I asked, suspicious.
