God had other plans, however. Not long after my dad made the statement of wanting to have a man-to-man talk with Hafiz, he started developing severe back pains -- severe enough to land him a three-month long medical leave from work. With the uncertainty of when my dad would resume work, and the possibility of him having to undergo a major surgery, we had to put all marriage talks aside. After numerous trips to a myriad of doctors, hours of physical therapy, and nights of worrying, my dad got better -- slowly but surely. In the midst of my dad's recovery, my grandma had succumbed to liver cancer. It was a very dark moment for us all, given that it was the first death within the family. With that said, it took our family quite some time to get used to the absence of our beloved Nanny/Mama.
Even though discussions regarding a possible union were put on hold, the idea was never fully ignored. My parents would talk about the matter with me from time to time, making sure that I hadn't changed my mind. With God's will, my dad got so much better by the time March arrived. His doctor and physicist had both given him the thumbs up to get back on the plane. And then the moment came... the man-to-man talk (/shivers). My dad insisted that the talk should be just between the two of them, and no one else. Quiet as a mouse, I sat on the stairs whilst eagerly trying to make out what was exchanged between the two. It didn't take me long to give the mission up though. Who would have thought that the talk would last for four hours. Yes, four long hours. I didn't know what to think of it -- did it mean that they got along really well, or did my dad use those hours to cover up a murder scene... (/gulp). Thank the Lord it wasn't the latter. During the talk, it was decided that both parents would meet the next coming weekend to discuss the matter even further whilst Hafiz and I attend the compulsory pre-marital course. Another crucial thing that was agreed on by the two was that Hafiz and I would not see each other until the day of the wedding -- a wedding that was yet to have a date. I was genuinely upset that he would agree to such thing. Within the two and half years we had been together (+ some months before), we had never been apart except for that one time I went to the UK for a family vacation. And here he was suggesting that we do not meet and limit all contacts in the next, what... three months? But he assured me that it was going to be worth it, and it is something that he had to do, for him, myself, and our future.
Our last 'date' was during the pre-marital course, and it was also then that it all felt real to me. "Wow, this is really happening. We are really getting married." I thought to myself about only half a million times. And whilst we were in the mosque, our parents were having their own little meeting. Yikes. I kept on sneaking text messages to my mom to see how everything was going, but of course she refused to spare me any details via the telephone. But Alhamdulillah, with just one meeting, our parents had managed to mutually agree on a date -- 15th of June 2014. My dad had made it clear from the start -- he wanted to take the easiest route. Why make the process of completing half your deen arduous? Everything was surpassingly straightforward and painless that most times it didn't feel like I was going to tie the knot in three months' time. No entourage were sent to ask for my hand, no overpriced fancy-schmancy engagement, no ludicrous conditions and/or demands were set, no nothing. I realize now that marriage is made difficult due to our culture. If things are planned based on Islam, almost nothing is burdensome. Most parents have too high of an expectation when it comes to choosing partners for their children. All my dad asked was if I was confident that Hafiz could lead me closer to Allah. He didn't ask me how much Hafiz earns, what kind of car Hafiz drives, or if Hafiz lavishes me with branded goods. It wasn't because my dad didn't care, but it was because all that do not matter. If you do things purely for the sake of Allah, He will make things easy for you, and it will all eventually fall into place. All you have to do is put your trust in Him.
And that meant that we really had to stay away from each other. To genuinely purify our intentions of getting married for the sake of Allah. Many people gave me bewildered reactions whenever I tell them that Hafiz and I are staying away from each other until the day of our wedding. "How are you going to plan your wedding if you don't see each other?","But what is wrong with seeing each other? Just don't do anything you're not supposed to!","But, wwwwhyyyy?","Aren't you worried that it'll drive you guys apart instead?","I don't think that's necessary.", and all things simultaneous to those. To describe the three months as being difficult would be an understatement to say the least. It was a very intense and emotionally-straining period, especially on my side, given that I didn't understand the purpose of it all in the beginning. But thinking about it now, I'm glad that we went on with the three-month hiatus. It blossomed our relationship into one that is much more genuine and powerful. And the feeling of seeing him for the first time on the day of our union was... (/sigh) nothing short of beautiful.
And that was that. Before I knew it, I became someone's wife. And I wouldn't trade the life I have now for anything.
Even though discussions regarding a possible union were put on hold, the idea was never fully ignored. My parents would talk about the matter with me from time to time, making sure that I hadn't changed my mind. With God's will, my dad got so much better by the time March arrived. His doctor and physicist had both given him the thumbs up to get back on the plane. And then the moment came... the man-to-man talk (/shivers). My dad insisted that the talk should be just between the two of them, and no one else. Quiet as a mouse, I sat on the stairs whilst eagerly trying to make out what was exchanged between the two. It didn't take me long to give the mission up though. Who would have thought that the talk would last for four hours. Yes, four long hours. I didn't know what to think of it -- did it mean that they got along really well, or did my dad use those hours to cover up a murder scene... (/gulp). Thank the Lord it wasn't the latter. During the talk, it was decided that both parents would meet the next coming weekend to discuss the matter even further whilst Hafiz and I attend the compulsory pre-marital course. Another crucial thing that was agreed on by the two was that Hafiz and I would not see each other until the day of the wedding -- a wedding that was yet to have a date. I was genuinely upset that he would agree to such thing. Within the two and half years we had been together (+ some months before), we had never been apart except for that one time I went to the UK for a family vacation. And here he was suggesting that we do not meet and limit all contacts in the next, what... three months? But he assured me that it was going to be worth it, and it is something that he had to do, for him, myself, and our future.
Our last 'date' was during the pre-marital course, and it was also then that it all felt real to me. "Wow, this is really happening. We are really getting married." I thought to myself about only half a million times. And whilst we were in the mosque, our parents were having their own little meeting. Yikes. I kept on sneaking text messages to my mom to see how everything was going, but of course she refused to spare me any details via the telephone. But Alhamdulillah, with just one meeting, our parents had managed to mutually agree on a date -- 15th of June 2014. My dad had made it clear from the start -- he wanted to take the easiest route. Why make the process of completing half your deen arduous? Everything was surpassingly straightforward and painless that most times it didn't feel like I was going to tie the knot in three months' time. No entourage were sent to ask for my hand, no overpriced fancy-schmancy engagement, no ludicrous conditions and/or demands were set, no nothing. I realize now that marriage is made difficult due to our culture. If things are planned based on Islam, almost nothing is burdensome. Most parents have too high of an expectation when it comes to choosing partners for their children. All my dad asked was if I was confident that Hafiz could lead me closer to Allah. He didn't ask me how much Hafiz earns, what kind of car Hafiz drives, or if Hafiz lavishes me with branded goods. It wasn't because my dad didn't care, but it was because all that do not matter. If you do things purely for the sake of Allah, He will make things easy for you, and it will all eventually fall into place. All you have to do is put your trust in Him.
And that meant that we really had to stay away from each other. To genuinely purify our intentions of getting married for the sake of Allah. Many people gave me bewildered reactions whenever I tell them that Hafiz and I are staying away from each other until the day of our wedding. "How are you going to plan your wedding if you don't see each other?","But what is wrong with seeing each other? Just don't do anything you're not supposed to!","But, wwwwhyyyy?","Aren't you worried that it'll drive you guys apart instead?","I don't think that's necessary.", and all things simultaneous to those. To describe the three months as being difficult would be an understatement to say the least. It was a very intense and emotionally-straining period, especially on my side, given that I didn't understand the purpose of it all in the beginning. But thinking about it now, I'm glad that we went on with the three-month hiatus. It blossomed our relationship into one that is much more genuine and powerful. And the feeling of seeing him for the first time on the day of our union was... (/sigh) nothing short of beautiful.
And that was that. Before I knew it, I became someone's wife. And I wouldn't trade the life I have now for anything.
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