Mum has been on my case since last week about the list she has put together of prospective girls for me,
” Ali !!!!! Come have a look at this list please ”
” ok Ummi!!! Tomorrow”
” Ali you’ve been saying that since last week”
” ok let’s have a look” I say
Aneesa, Amina, some other names I can hardly remember but there about 12 names.
” nah Ummi not now, what about that girl Zakera told you about ? The girl from that small plaas town (Breyten Mpumalanga)? ” I blurt out
” her name is Zainub” mom says
” yeah let’s go see her” I say this with knowing full well I was just going to enjoy the Samoosas and tea, and doing the whole formality thing just to make Mom happy that I am considering marriage.
The date to go is set and Mom is beyond herself with joy as her ‘baby’ is going to get married soon. My little brain maintained this notion that these farm plaas girls suffered a serious inferior complex due to not dwelling in the city, ” please don’t shoot me, iv changed that notion” 🙂 I was going to walk into a room were there is this girl smiling from ear to ear and looking as if she had a bath in all the make ups and foundations of the world and was going to pull out a small note pad asking my autograph just because I was a Jozi boy. Lol I know what you thinking ” damnn you so full of yourself”
Ok let’s roll up the red carpet I was walking on in my mind and get back to reality.
Being an ardent reader of the Muslim Women Muslim Magazine, I knew pretty well that en- route to Breyten we would pass the towns of Bethal and Kriel, back then there was no highway. So I told the folks, I’m not having breakfast we shall have a nice burger at SANHA approved Steers in bethal. On arriving there at 9am but they refused to sell us anything as the store was only opening at 10, I was highly upset as used to getting things instantly in Jozi- you can get a burger at 1am or 5pm didn’t matter, if you wanted one you got it. Told Mom
” see how slow they are in this part of our glorious country”
” shut up ” Ali
After I long tiring journey we arrive at this small town namely Breyten, reminded me of town out of those Jan Van Riebeek history books we did in school, with the old locomotive train at the entrance-
I remember telling dad that this is the last town on the map if you jump off at the end you’ll probably land in Austrailia.
We received at the door by an elderly man with the brightest smile, and led to the lounge, many other people in the lounge as well and my mini brain, it’s once again confirming its theory,
” ah hah small town, so the whole gham invited to the house just to see the boy who doesn’t even know if he is going to marry the girl, classy real classy” my mind screaming on its PA system
The adults enjoy their conversations about the good old days. I’m just interested in the Samoosas if there were any.
After a short period of time. Zainubs dad asks me ” are you ready for your interrogation? Or whatever you want to call it”
I follow him into the dinning hall, signals me to sit on the chair in the corner, which seems as though it was there for me.
I sit there making sure my jersey is neat and mocosins are still shinning.
After a short while Zainub walks in, too shy to look up immediately, I stand up make salaam whilst looking down and sit in my interrogation chair the conversation is basic, I ask all that I had to, stealing short glimpses of her whilst she wasn’t looking. My brain is at it again.
” ok no layers of make up, no eye shadow enough to cover the sun, no over dressing” stunned I was and slightly disappointed that my silly theory was proven wrong.
The time passed so fast that one hour had passed. As we head on our journey back, I was so taken aback that I uttered nothing,
” what you think Ali ?” Mom constantly asked.
I said nothing.
Just thinking that, this servant of Allah beams takwa speech audible , not loud and making presence known, spoken when spoken to, but asked what she had to, I shall not go into the physical beauty as she adheres to the strict laws of purdah, and obviously I’ll go hungry if I do lol.
My mind racing, thinking about my future. About life with her.
” Ali hold your horses, you have to take guidance from Allah first” I say to myself
Not noticing Mom watching me smile as I’m lost in thought.
I over hear her telling dad.
” this chap is gone”
I know what you picturing now?? This guy that went to see a girl in some gham in India and sitting at the window seat on the 3rd class train smiling out of the window whilst building castles in mid air, typical Hindi movie style??? Isn’t? Isn’t?
Yeah something like that, just here I was in a Caravelle sitting at the window seat with aircon listen to the tunes of Ahmed bukhatir an not kabhi kabhi and minus the awful smell of the Indian air. lol
To be continued tomorrow WASALAAM
Enjoy ALI ISMAIL JOGIE