Alisha Earns Her Veil
© “Michelle” 2005
Chapter 6 – Veiling for Mother
As they near the office, Alisha asks another question.
“Uh, when will your mother be arriving ? I’m still worried she won’t like me.”
“Oh don’t worry about her. You’re probably the only person who she knows that wears a burqa as well. She’s been delayed in Lahore for a while. She’s coming next month now.”
“Oh. So Javed could have kept his room.”
“No he could not my young lady.” Rana snaps though not in a harsh tone of voice.
“Imagine what you two would get up to behind my back.”
“Well nothing. The house is haram to him until you are wed.”
“By the way, is there a reason you insisted I stay here rather than at my parents ?”
“Oh that’s simple. Your mother works and so wouldn’t be able to spend time chaperoning you and running you back and forth to the office or mosque like this. She’ll be coming to see you regularly though and she said you’re of course most welcome back home whenever you want.”
“I bet me turning up like this will cause a stir with the neighbours.”
“Oh you don’t have to dress like that there. It’s allowed to hide being a Muslimah where it would cause problems.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course I do ! Father thinks the neighbours are all snobbish and he’d probably love to have me arriving like this.”
“Why’s that ?”
“Because he cannot tell them what he does they just assume it’s something menial and so they tend to ignore him.”
“So he still works ?”
“Oh yes. But at home now, not abroad.”
“I see. I assume that’s all I can ask of course.”
“And more or less all I know.”
“Oh. I bet that’s been difficult for all of you.”
“Yeah. I think that’s one reason I behaved so badly when I was young. I just didn’t realise how important his work was for keeping us all safe.”
They reach the office where Rana tells Alisha to stay in the car.
“Why can’t I come in ? You’ve just spent all this effort veiling me.”
“Oh that’s just because I really like doing it.” Rana grins, “If I took you in there I have to chaperone you and I can’t do that easily while sorting through the storage rooms.”
“Great !” Alisha groans at being denied another opportunity to be near her fiancé.
She returns shortly afterwards with a large pile of clothing.
“That’s a heavy looking prayer robe.” Alisha laughs as the size of the pile is obvious even with her restricted vision.
“Best sort.” Rana grins back, realising she perhaps should have put the sightless gold burqa on her charge.
Either that or made the tie up ribbon modification to this burqa – with the ribbons on the outside !
Back home, Alisha pulls off the burqa, causing her to blink repeatedly while her eyes get used to seeing all of the room once more rather than a grid of small sections of it. She quickly slips the prayer robe over her other garments.
“Oh my, don’t you look cute.” Rana smiles.
“I recall not quite thinking that when I first saw this in the catalogue.”
“Shows how quickly times change, doesn’t it ?”
“Now go and kneel near the door with your face in your hands.”
“Quickly girl, that’s your mother’s car drawing up outside. You said she liked to see you on your knees praying.”
“Oh … right. Of course. Thanks.”
Alisha is in position before the doorbell rings. Rana opens the door and greets Alisha’s mother Lydia.
“Oh don’t you look gorgeous like that.” the visitor remarks on noticing her daughter kneeling on the ground before her.
Alisha looks up with a wide grin. “Hello mummy.”
She then goes to lean back and rise to the standing position in an elegant movement she has practiced often, only to find a hand on her shoulder.
“You remain kneeling there and make your prayers.” Rana remarks, “Your mother and I have important business about your wedding to discuss.”
Lydia instead bends down and kisses her daughter on most cheeks.
“Your father sends his best wishes. He’s looking forward to meeting his new daughter as he refers to you now.”
“And I him.” Alisha grins.
The two women depart into the lounge and shut the door. Obviously the discussions on her wedding don’t require any input from the bride. Different feelings swarm through her mind and body then decay until the most pleasurable one remains, that of total submission to others. She has surrendered control of her own destiny to these two women who obviously both love her, and they will pass this control on to her loving fiancé on their wedding day.
How could things be more perfect than this ?
Though she smiles at the thought that for at least a short period of time she did have total control of Javed at the mosque the previous day.
She shuffles round to face the right direction and settles down to a long prayer session, her only concern being whether she should disregard Rana’s instruction to remain on the floor so as to complete the Qiyam and Ruku’, the standing and bowing parts of the Salat. She thinks about what she has been taught and remembers it is allowed to complete missed parts of prayer at a later time. This solves the problem and she is soon prostrate on the floor for the first of the many Sajdah she feels she needs to catch on, some for her years of being non-religious, a few more for those she missed due to her self-imposed confinement in the cardboard box, but most to repent for her leading her fiancé’s penis astray.
Eventually she returns to the sitting Qa’dah once more and says the Taslim. Her only remaining decision is whether to make her Du’a personal prayers in the normal sitting position or to take up the far more strenuous prostrate position. And as so often happens, her subconscious instinct takes over and before she knows it her forehead is on the floor where it will remain for possibly many hours, her whispered personal prayers quietly filtering out from under the pink mound on the floor.
Inside the room, the two mothers discuss the plans for the wedding. One thing immediately becomes apparent is that time is tight to get certain things arranged in the few months previously mentioned.
“She could have a simpler dress.” Lydia suggests.
“Or we could delay the wedding a bit.” Rana counters, “Javed showed me the picture of the dress she wants.”
“Which do you think she would prefer ?”
“You are her mother, not me.” Rana laughs, “Though I realise I tend to take over somewhat.”
“That’s alright. You got them engaged and that’s what counts.”
“So shall we flick a coin ?”
“We could ask my daughter.”
“Hmm. Islamic law says the bride must agree to the wedding for it to take place but there’s nothing written about consulting her on where the wedding is, when the wedding is, or what she wears to the wedding. They’re all the responsibilities of the parents. However if that’s your way we could indeed ask her.”
They look at each other, giggle and both then shake their heads.
“Let’s she how she’s doing.”
They quietly open the door to the hall and peer through, careful to ensure the object of their discussions doesn’t notice their actions. They hear the delicate strain of her prayers and both women nod to one another.
“Delay the wedding.” they whisper in unison, it being obvious to both that this is one girl who really does deserve the very best even if it will take a little longer to prepare.
They close the door again.
“Right I’d better get off to do some shopping for materials.”
“Just find out what you need and Javed will get it wholesale.”
“Won’t that delay things even more ?”
“Oh there’s lots of other things for us to do.” Rana remarks, then giggles, “And we’re not the ones getting sore knees, are we ?”
“I suppose not. Are you leaving her there all day ?”
“Well actually I was wondering about putting her to bed.”
“At one in the afternoon ?”
Rana nods then explains about where Alisha had slept the night before last and her problem this morning.
“Okay, let’s do it.” Lydia grins, “After all her father and I had to put up with, sending her to bed early seems a fair enough punishment.”