A MOMENT TO REGRET: Short Story
My eyes were wide open, I was breathing heavily and still holding tied to my pillow, passionately. I was still for minutes then suddenly, my wake-up alarm rang and I had to start preparing for office. Without hesitation, I smiled, observed my after bed supplications and got on my feet, light-headed. I picked my mobile phone to call Christine before proceeding to take my shower.
My company, 'The Emirates' is famous in producing all sort of big ticket textiles and Jewelry in the world in Istanbul. I was the CEO. I met Christine, an American Millionaire business woman at a Summit in Dubai some two years back. We were both pleased to have met each another. Christine wasn't just an experience and dedicative business woman, she was intelligent, a caring and loving mother of two who respect people for who they are. "Reading is my hubby in life," she once told me. And yes, she read quite alot. Hardly the sun will greet the land and lay to rest twice without Christine calling either my cell phone, office or my landline at home. At a time, my wife was a little disturbed but was later pleased after realizing that most time Christine call, she enquire a thing or two about Islam. Though I wasn't quite a practicing Muslim, it was really cool educating a non Muslim who's sincerely willing to learn about Islam. For things that has to do with women, I connect Christine with my loving wife I married decade ago from Nigeria, Husnah. Husnah was more sound about the Deen than I do. She keep me reminded and committed too.
The phone rang and Christine wasn't picking. I took my shower, had a break fast with my wife and then made my way to the office. I asked my driver to tone in BBC as we drive. We stoped at a hold up and waited for the green light.
"Of course, Boss" said my driver, "haven't you heard?"
"No, I slept early yesterday Kelvin."
I was shocked. It was a news about a shooting the night before at a gay club in the United States. The news caster says it was the most horrible shooting in the history of the States and that the shooter was identified to be a Muslim, Omar Mateen. I was still tensed when my phone rang. It was Christine.
"I am so sorry Ahmad, I drove the kids to school and forgot the phone on the couch." She explained.
I suddenly tried to relaxed my self and composed my voice. I then said "you've forgotten to say the Salaam again, Christine."
"Oops, sorry, Assalamu'alaikum," she said inarticulately.
"Wa'alaikussalaam wa rahmatullah."
"So why the call earlier this morning Ahmad, have you heard so early?" She asked, jokingly.
"Heard of what Christine?" I enquired.
"No, you tell me first."
I delayed momentarily then said "hmm, Ok then," I hesitated again.
"Tell me now," she was nosy.
"I had a dream about you this morning," I finally said.
"A dream?"
I could sensed how eager she was to hear about the dream. It's human nature, curiosity. 'One can be in awe when he contemplate the mystery of eternity, of this life, of the marvelous structure of reality.' But 'it's enough if one tries to merely comprehend little of these mysteries each day.' I couldn't say it because I could see my driver glancing through the mirror, his ears craving to hear what I'll say. To her dislike, I told her to hold till I reach the office. I was still questioning myself as to why must I inform her of this dream. I thought, 'aren't dreams suppose to be sealed in one's heart?'
Shortly after I leaned on my chair, in the office, Christine called. She was hankering to hear the dream of her Muslim friend. Something he never did say before. 'Could he have had about it before me telling him?' she thought, 'no way, even the media are yet to find out.' As for me, I never mind asking her her version of the story because I knew it's all about the Orlando killing.
"I ... had sex with you in the dream!" I stammered. My shoulder shrugged as little shame surface on my face.
"W-H-A-T!" She protested and then said "innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un!"
The phone went silent for some seconds and then got terminated. That was my last phone call with my dear non-Muslim friend, Christine. Her phone never went through again, and she neither call nor reply my email or Husnah's. Husnah was more disturbed than myself. They've became more than friends though they only see themselves via Skype. She had no idea what I did and I pray she don't. Christine last words was what disturbed me much. I was embarrassed and disenchanted with myself. Those words, are only uttered by Muslims whenever they're afflicted with a calamity. All our conversation, I never thought her and I doubt if Husnah did.
Husnah later convinced me to visit and checked her friend out. I tried all I could to convince her to stay behind while I go alone, but she insisted, we hardly debate on issues. In the early morning of Saturday, at about 1:35am, we flew to the States from Istanbul on my private airplane. It was a very long flight. We stopped for 1 hour 30 min at Cairo Int'l Airport from Atatürk Int'l Airport Istanbul, a flight of about 2 hours 25 min. And then finally arrived JFK Int'l Airport ien New York at about 5:40pm on Sunday. Both of us can't keep our eyes opened. But we still need to make our way to The Greenwich Hotel which was 36 min drive from JFK Int'l airport.
I was holding my briefcase, in the middle of the reception, standing as everyone did, my heart pounding with two conflicting feelings; exhilarated and yet heartbroken by what we saw as "BREAKING NEWS" displaying at the slides all around. My wife suddenly fell down with her face to the floor and observed Sujud ash-Shukr (Prostration of Gratitude), thanking Allah. I was still standing. "Alhamdulillah ... Subhanallah ... innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un," I mumbled, shivering and finally collapsed to the floor, helplessly. I was rushed to the hospital, unconsciously. In the dark, all I keep seeing was what I saw in the slide: "The famous American Millionaire Miss. Christine has on Friday finally embraced Islam after meeting with 'The Emirate CEO,' a Nigerian based Muslim two years ago."
'How do I look Christine in the eyes? What would I tell my wife if I wake up? What if I die now, how do I meet my God?' I keep puzzling in the ambulance, regretting that moment I uttered such filthy words, till my eyes finally shut down.
***To be continued
THANK YOU FOR READING, I HOPE YOU GOT THE MESSAGE(S) THEREIN. Please leave a comment.
All Right Reserved.
16th Ramadan, 1437 H (21st June, 2016).
My company, 'The Emirates' is famous in producing all sort of big ticket textiles and Jewelry in the world in Istanbul. I was the CEO. I met Christine, an American Millionaire business woman at a Summit in Dubai some two years back. We were both pleased to have met each another. Christine wasn't just an experience and dedicative business woman, she was intelligent, a caring and loving mother of two who respect people for who they are. "Reading is my hubby in life," she once told me. And yes, she read quite alot. Hardly the sun will greet the land and lay to rest twice without Christine calling either my cell phone, office or my landline at home. At a time, my wife was a little disturbed but was later pleased after realizing that most time Christine call, she enquire a thing or two about Islam. Though I wasn't quite a practicing Muslim, it was really cool educating a non Muslim who's sincerely willing to learn about Islam. For things that has to do with women, I connect Christine with my loving wife I married decade ago from Nigeria, Husnah. Husnah was more sound about the Deen than I do. She keep me reminded and committed too.
The phone rang and Christine wasn't picking. I took my shower, had a break fast with my wife and then made my way to the office. I asked my driver to tone in BBC as we drive. We stoped at a hold up and waited for the green light.
"Of course, Boss" said my driver, "haven't you heard?"
"No, I slept early yesterday Kelvin."
I was shocked. It was a news about a shooting the night before at a gay club in the United States. The news caster says it was the most horrible shooting in the history of the States and that the shooter was identified to be a Muslim, Omar Mateen. I was still tensed when my phone rang. It was Christine.
"I am so sorry Ahmad, I drove the kids to school and forgot the phone on the couch." She explained.
I suddenly tried to relaxed my self and composed my voice. I then said "you've forgotten to say the Salaam again, Christine."
"Oops, sorry, Assalamu'alaikum," she said inarticulately.
"Wa'alaikussalaam wa rahmatullah."
"So why the call earlier this morning Ahmad, have you heard so early?" She asked, jokingly.
"Heard of what Christine?" I enquired.
"No, you tell me first."
I delayed momentarily then said "hmm, Ok then," I hesitated again.
"Tell me now," she was nosy.
"I had a dream about you this morning," I finally said.
"A dream?"
I could sensed how eager she was to hear about the dream. It's human nature, curiosity. 'One can be in awe when he contemplate the mystery of eternity, of this life, of the marvelous structure of reality.' But 'it's enough if one tries to merely comprehend little of these mysteries each day.' I couldn't say it because I could see my driver glancing through the mirror, his ears craving to hear what I'll say. To her dislike, I told her to hold till I reach the office. I was still questioning myself as to why must I inform her of this dream. I thought, 'aren't dreams suppose to be sealed in one's heart?'
Shortly after I leaned on my chair, in the office, Christine called. She was hankering to hear the dream of her Muslim friend. Something he never did say before. 'Could he have had about it before me telling him?' she thought, 'no way, even the media are yet to find out.' As for me, I never mind asking her her version of the story because I knew it's all about the Orlando killing.
"I ... had sex with you in the dream!" I stammered. My shoulder shrugged as little shame surface on my face.
"W-H-A-T!" She protested and then said "innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un!"
The phone went silent for some seconds and then got terminated. That was my last phone call with my dear non-Muslim friend, Christine. Her phone never went through again, and she neither call nor reply my email or Husnah's. Husnah was more disturbed than myself. They've became more than friends though they only see themselves via Skype. She had no idea what I did and I pray she don't. Christine last words was what disturbed me much. I was embarrassed and disenchanted with myself. Those words, are only uttered by Muslims whenever they're afflicted with a calamity. All our conversation, I never thought her and I doubt if Husnah did.
Husnah later convinced me to visit and checked her friend out. I tried all I could to convince her to stay behind while I go alone, but she insisted, we hardly debate on issues. In the early morning of Saturday, at about 1:35am, we flew to the States from Istanbul on my private airplane. It was a very long flight. We stopped for 1 hour 30 min at Cairo Int'l Airport from Atatürk Int'l Airport Istanbul, a flight of about 2 hours 25 min. And then finally arrived JFK Int'l Airport ien New York at about 5:40pm on Sunday. Both of us can't keep our eyes opened. But we still need to make our way to The Greenwich Hotel which was 36 min drive from JFK Int'l airport.
I was holding my briefcase, in the middle of the reception, standing as everyone did, my heart pounding with two conflicting feelings; exhilarated and yet heartbroken by what we saw as "BREAKING NEWS" displaying at the slides all around. My wife suddenly fell down with her face to the floor and observed Sujud ash-Shukr (Prostration of Gratitude), thanking Allah. I was still standing. "Alhamdulillah ... Subhanallah ... innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un," I mumbled, shivering and finally collapsed to the floor, helplessly. I was rushed to the hospital, unconsciously. In the dark, all I keep seeing was what I saw in the slide: "The famous American Millionaire Miss. Christine has on Friday finally embraced Islam after meeting with 'The Emirate CEO,' a Nigerian based Muslim two years ago."
'How do I look Christine in the eyes? What would I tell my wife if I wake up? What if I die now, how do I meet my God?' I keep puzzling in the ambulance, regretting that moment I uttered such filthy words, till my eyes finally shut down.
***To be continued
THANK YOU FOR READING, I HOPE YOU GOT THE MESSAGE(S) THEREIN. Please leave a comment.
All Right Reserved.
16th Ramadan, 1437 H (21st June, 2016).
Comments
Post a Comment