MARYAM'S RAMADAN

“Salam alaikum sister Maryam. Can I have a word?” Amina shouted gathering together her jilbab and struggling through the crowd to reach a sister who was leaving the mosque in a hurry.

Maryam rolled her eyes in frustration and turned to face the Amirah ruing her failed escape.

“Salam alaikum Amirah.”

“Wa alaikum salam. Ah my jilbab is out again” Amirah Amina said in a mocking tone fingering the blue flowing veil.

Maryam, ever willing to get into the raging war between hijabis and non-hijabis chuckled in reply;

“Jazakallahum khairan. I want to boost my iman too.”

“Masha’Allah may He make it permanent for you. I hope we plan to finish the Qur'an this Ramadan?”

“Insha'Allah Amirah.” She knew she had no chance of finishing the holy book in thirty days. Even last Ramadan's missed fasts were still unpaid.

“You are joining the recitation group right?”

“Your name's not here, but I told Amir it must be an error.” She waved the list like a prize.

Maryam faintly remembered the lecture on Surat Al-Kahf and people passing a sheet of paper round before dozing off as she always did during these meetings.

“Yes, I'll join.”

“Masha'Allah sister au revoir then.” This greeting was her way of chastising her for studying French in the university when the ummah needed doctors, lawyers, engineers and Arabic speakers. The day she informed her of the admission, Amirah only said;

“If you can study French, then why not Arabic? It is after all the language of the grave and hereafter sister.”

The Muslim community in Maryam's small town made up 5% of the total population and she was the only female in her street who often wore a religious veil. She wondered how it felt to show-case long curly hair everyday as other girls.

Ramadan was her favorite time of the year. Her family had tea and toast for Sahur while Iftar was always a party; assorted meals in such great quantities, the entire family couldn’t finish them. There were free date-palms for everybody. The northerners selling beef reduced their prices for Muslims.

The mosque environment transformed into an Islamic literature bazaar during Ramadan; Qur'an recitation blasting morning till night from speakers. Tarawiyy and tahajjud prayers are not compulsory so, Maryam sleeps to the comforting sound of the imam reciting surat after surat. As she shuffled for an ablution spot and any available space for salat, she always experienced an inner glow. Rich, poor, white and colored folks cramped together bowing to a common creator. She reveled in this feeling of comradeship; the knowledge that she was part of a global movement.

Adherents overflow the mosque during Ramadan’s first few days. As the season progressed, the number of devotees declines until only those who steadfastly observed their five daily prayers like her remained.

After saying Ma'salam to Amirah, she got into her car and her delicate fingers hovered above the stereo. In a flash, she picked up her iPhone and deleted all the secular music making a mental note to wipe off her nail polish too. She promised herself one juz of the Qur'an per day; if this didn’t succeed, by Allah “Actions are judged by intentions.”

The phone rang and Muaz appeared on its screen. He it was who’d introduced her to the wonders of fornication since they met. He looked harmless that day, hiding behind brown eyes and a shy smile. Three weeks ago, she was a virgin and now, she is a professional. She knew X-rated sites to visit for help when necessary. They hugged, kissed and sexed routinely but she still held back from shaking hands with other men. Whenever she clipped her veil, she reflected on the four characteristics of a hypocrite as stated by the Prophet. Deep stares into the faces of other sisters could not help her guess at who else lived her kind of double life.

Muaz was waiting for her in his briefs. He didn’t believe in salat so he spent jumat sleeping. They embraced and true to style, he carried her into the bedroom where they fell on the bed. She looked into his eyes happy and carefree. He smiled back kissing her slowly at first and then, hungrily while their bodies danced to match the raw emotion. Theirs was a union doomed to exist in the shadows forever. She matched force with force and when he tore off her bra, she shoved him off.

“Babe what's the matter?”

“Nothing” she replied overcoming an urge to cry.

“Why did you stop?” he asked placing his palm on her shoulder while using the other to cover his bulging erection.

She flinched and leapt up onto the chair facing him, clasping and unclasping her palms.

“I just feel we shouldn't be doing this. Let's discuss something else…anything maybe Ramadan."

“Good grief, not today” grumbled the man. He covered his face with a pillow.

“I have to go” she said with a jump but Muaz leapt up locking their bodies to the wall and silencing her unsaid words with passionate kisses.

From afar, a nagging feeling overwhelmed her. Maryam wriggled free and fled.

She turned on the car ignition and tried to steady her thoughts.

“Alhamdulillah” she proclaimed.

She knew they would eventually have sex again, but she was glad knowing the night won't be spent performing Istighfar, seeking forgiveness. A glow illuminated her soul, and she was so lost in it that, she did not see the bend fast enough, driving straight through the weak bridge abutment into the nothingness below.