Chapter one: the run-in at the hospital“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner, Ammi?” Rashid asked his Mom as he held her hand. Rashid had rushed home as soon as his Abbu (Father) had told him the news. Apparently, Ammi didn’t want to worry the family but Abbu thought Rashid needed to know. He was relieved he found out sooner rather than later. Rashid had just finished his last final before winter break early and got permission from his professors to take the finals early so he could make it in time for when his Ammi would be going through chemotherapy. “You should be in med school, jaanu.” Ammi told Rashid. Ammi was lying in the hospital bed in one of those hospital gowns. Rashid has never seen his mother like this. “I came back early to be with you, Ammi. Aren’t you happy to see me?” Rashid teased his mom. Ammi held his hand and gave him a weak smile. “I’m glad you’re home, beta. But, you should be studying for your finals, no?” Ammi inquired. “I was able to take them early. I want to be here with you on the days Abbu has work, Ammi.” Rashid told her. “Come sit, beta. I am going to be fine. At Thanksgiving, we’ll have a chicken masala and guests will be over. You’ll see, jaanu.” Ammi replied. “Ammi, you don’t know if that’ll happen. We don’t.” Rashid said. He wished his Ammi would just admit that everything wasn’t fine and that things will never be the same again no matter how badly he wanted it to be. “Rashid, you can’t live your life in fear. Whatever Allah (S.W.T.) (God in Arabic) has planned will happen, insha’ Allah!” Ammi said, as she emphasized the last two words. All Rashid could do in response was hold her hand. When his Ammi fell asleep, Rashid sighed and looked out at the night sky. Abbu would be here soon and then he will know exactly how severe the situation was. He needed to know even if Ammi didn’t want him to. Ammi wanted him to pretend everything was okay and that she will get better but it just didn’t feel right to Rashid. Rashid remembered the first time his mother told him he had cancer. She had ordered Halal pepperoni pizza and even ordered garlic knots …one of Rashid’s favorite. She waited until he had finished his share before breaking the news to him. He had been in so much shock that he had ran out and went for a bike ride with Ammi calling after him.When he got home, his father explained that he had wanted to tell him sooner but Ammi was still in denial about how severe the situation was. “She doesn’t want to miss out on your life, beta.” Abbu had told him. When that sunk in, Rashid realized he should’ve thought about it the other way around: He didn’t want to miss out on being in Ammi’s life. He didn’t know how much longer he had with her or what would happen if… Rashid shuddered thinking of that what if moment. He didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he focused on counting his blessings that he even had this time with his mom. Not everyone is lucky enough to have these moments with their parents. Rashid thought to himself as he texted his friends telling them that he was out for tonight. “Assalamu Alaikum, Abbu!” Rashid stepped out of the hospital room as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to wake Ammi up now that she was asleep. “Yes… I will. Right. Yes I prayed Isha, Abbu. I went to the masjid before driving over. Will you be here tonight? Okay… I will wait until you come. You have to tell her, Abbu.“ Rashid told his Abbu before hanging up. Rashid sighed before walking back in. “Rashid? What is it, beta?” Ammi said as she sat up in bed. “Abbu is coming, but he is going to be a little late, Ammi.” Rashid replied. “You shouldn’t be here… you should be with your friends, Rashid. You have friends, right?” Ammi teased as Rashid rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ammi. I have friends - but I’d rather be here with you. Besides, Abbu will be here soon and then I’ll head home.” Rashid replied. “Go home, Rashid. I’m just going to go back to sleep. I will tell Abbu you were here all day.” Ammi pats his hand and motions to the door with a small smile. “Thank you for coming, beta, but I don’t want you watching me sleep.” Rashid kissed his mom, gathered his things, and rushed out the door. He looked back in the direction of his mom’s hospital room and shook his head. It had been a long night, but it was time to head home. He was on his way out when someone crashed into him. “Watch where you’re going!” Rashid snapped as the girl looked up in surprise. She took out her headphones from her ears and quickly fixed her hijab. “Sorry - I was on my way to the west wing and I got lost. I didn’t even realize you were there.” Realization dawned on him as he realized he had been asshole. “Sorry for being an asshole. I know it’s no excuse but it’s been a rough week.” “Likewise.” “The west wing is just around the corner after you go straight and take a left.” “How do I know you’re not leading me to some weird part of this building?” “Take my advice or not … I really don’t care. But, if you don’t it’ll be awhile before an assistant can help you out.” Rashid pointed to the line of people waiting to talk to the desk assistant. She gave him the middle finger and walked off in the direction he had given her. Rashid laughed at how bold she was and she was so defiant that he had to admit he was enamoured by her. What a weird girl. He had forgotten to say salams but figured he’d never see her again. She had left quite an impression on him but Rashid knew the chances of him seeing her again were slim to none. He didn’t even know anything else about this girl. I don’t have time for love anyway, Rashid thought to himself. He was going to meet up with Hashim - the Imam’s son and hang out before heading home that night. He realized maybe his Ammi was right - maybe he did need the distraction. Rashid sighed as he drove over. The Imam opened the door with a smile. “Assalamu Alaikum, Rashid! Come in, come in!” He was this tall, Arab guy originally from Palestine. He was gentle but firm. He was the kind of man anyone would be willing to approach due to how understanding he was. Unless you asked Hashim. “Hashim is in his room, Rashid. How is your mother doing?” The Imam inquired. “She is good, still recovering, Uncle AbdulRahman. Please continue to keep her in your du’aas.” Rashid replied, with a smile as he headed upstairs before the Imam could ask him anything else. Inside his house, the Imam had insisted that Rashid called him Uncle saying it was good to separate work from home. “Salams, he so did my dad hold you up?” Hashim asked. “Nah - he just asked about Ammi.” “How are you holding up?” “Not great - I could use a distraction to be honest.” “I know a good one - let’s watch Star Wars: A New Hope!” “Alright!” Rashid took off his jacket and sat on the bean bag. Hashim came back with two bags of popcorn and handed one to him. “Kettle for you and butter for me,” Hashim said,as he pressed play. Getting to see Laia find escape with Luke’s help helped Rashid momentarily forget about what his dad had told him. More like sprung on him. “Are you okay, man?” “Huh? Oh yeah… I’m alright. Why?” “You kinda zoned out a little. I tried calling your name and wasn’t sure if you were okay.” “I’m fine… it’s just ...it’s been a weird night, man.” Hashim put the video game down and turned on the fan. “If you don’t want my parents to overhear it’s better to turn on the fan. Anyway, so what happened?” Rashid sighed as he thought about brushing off what he was thinking. When Hashim gave him a look he cracked and told him about meeting the girl at the hospital. “ You were an asshole, moron.” Hashim replied, with a grin as Rashid shook his head. He gave Hashim what he had hoped was an annoyed look before he started laughing. “Damn it - I kind of was. Wasn’t I?” “Here’s the good news - you’re probably never going to run into her again. So, don’t worry about it.” “And if I do?” “You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. If not … maybe you’re not as smart as I think you are.” Rashid rolled his eyes and grabbed the video game controller. “Another round?” “Another round.” With that, the two of them went back to playing their video game; almost as if nothing happened in the first place. They were so engrossed in their game that they didn’t notice when Hashim’s mom knocked on the door. “HASHIM! RASHID! Dinner is ready!” Hashim’s Mom was the kind of woman who will insist on feeding you no matter how many times you tell her you already ate. “I’m sorry it’s not much - Hashim told me you were staying a little while ago.” Rashid looked in amazement at the macaroni bechamel, the pastries, and the kebabs. “This looks incredible, Aunty!” Rashid said, meaning every word he said. It really was an incredible sight to behold. Arab food was amazing but it could use some hot sauce. Some pepper flakes couldn’t hurt either. He thankfully didn’t say any of that out loud and by the way Hashim’s Mom beamed at him he knew he had made the right decision. They sat down at the table and the Imam (yes, Rashid knew he was his friend’s dad too but he couldn’t help but refer to him as the Imam) began serving Rashid dish by dish and then served his wife. After he served Hashim and then himself. “BismillAllah Rahman Ar-Raheem!” The Imam declared before eating. Everyone else followed suit and dug in. By the end of the night, Rashid was in a happy food coma. The bachamel had been his favorite and Hashim’s Mom insisted that he take some home with him when she heard that he liked it. Rashid tried to say it was okay (brown culture customs or maybe it was a Muslim thing) but he was secretly ecstatic that he’d get to drive home with it. Hashim walked him to the car and the two of them talked for a bit before he drove off. By the time Rashid entered the house, it was still quiet. His Abbu had stayed the night by Ammi’s hospital bed so he had the whole house to himself. Rashid had hit snooze on his alarm one too many times so he had had to rush to class. The teacher was talking about diamonds and a mining field trip when he walked in. “I want all of you to have these slips signed by Friday. The trip is mandatory. You won’t have any homework if you turn in your worksheet before you head home. It’s essentially a scavenger hunt to ensure that you’re paying attention.” Mr. Kingsley replied. Rashid was grateful that his teacher never mentioned that he had been late mainly because his teachers were all already aware of his current situation. By the time the last bell rang, he ran out of the room and headed to his car. His Abbu had texted earlier in the day to tell him to attend some masjid event. Apparently, it was a D’awah booth. The D’awah booth is usually a table that is handled by local Muslim students and supervised by the Imam or other elders in the community. It was for an interfaith session. He had to attend a workshop training tonight to make sure he was prepared for whatever happened. Abbu thought this would be a good distraction for him. When he had attempted to protest, Abbu had rebutted his rebuttals saying that whatever Rashid wanted to do probably isn’t a one way ticket to Jannah (Paradise). So here he was about to go to his first D’awah workshop. “Asaalamu Alaikum, everyone!” The Imam greeted us with a smile as we walked in and removed our shoes. The women sat behind us and Rashid sat with the other male teens in the front. “We will take a break for Asr salah but feel free to pray dhur before we commence.” The Imam paused and watched as many of the students got up to pray. Typically, Rashid prayed at the library in school but because had left immediately he didn’t get a chance so he joined the others. Once they were done, Rashid sat back down and did his best to listen attentively to the Imam. “Remember that we always ask if they would like a flyer. Never get angry regardless of what the other person says. Remember not to take it too personal if the other person is rude to you. If you’re talking to a Christian, be empathetic. Acknowledge that you also believe in Prophet Isa (A.S.) or as they say Jesus. We just don’t believe in the trinity. Focus on the common ground with whomever you’re talking to. If you don’t have patience, this will be a tedious task for you and I suggest that you think about whether or not you’re cut out for it. You will have a supervisor with you at the booth should you have any questions or if things get out of hand. We have never had any dire situations.” The Imam handed out booklets with information on topics that could be of interest to others. He droned on for a bit and Rashid zoned out. “We will have a container of candy for kids to walk by and take. When that happens, this is your time to hand out a booklet. One woman and man will be manning the table every hour. If you are unable to make it, please come and see me before you leave tonight. This is my number if you need to reach me at any time.” The Imam wrote down his number on the white board and everyone took a picture or wrote it down. “I am going to pass this sheet around and I want each of you to sign up for the time slot.” Rashid looked around to see if he recognized any of the guys. There was one kid he recognized from school - they had the same Art class but other than that he didn’t recognize anyone. Hashim avoided these workshops as often as he could and usually only attended them if his Dad guilt tripped him into attending one. The Imam droned on for a few more minutes and then it was finally time to head out. “Rashid!” He spun around to face the kid from his Art class. “It’s me… Samad!” Samad replied. “Oh… right. Hey, so what did you want to talk about?” “You have no idea who I am … right?” Samad asked. “Sorry… no. “ “That’s alright. Anyway… what time did you sign up for?” “Five pm.” Rashid said silently hoping that Samad didn’t sign up for the same time. He just wanted to head home but this kid was persistent. “Damn … I have the last shift.” “That’s a shame… well, I have to head out.” With that, Rashid smiled at him and got inside his car. He was finally able to drive away. He turned on some music and listened to Eminem as he drove home. He was more introverted than most and preferred solitude to large gatherings which is why it was a miracle that he had even agreed to volunteer for that Da’wah booth. The only reason he went through with it was because Ammi had been so ecstatic when she heard that he didn’t want to disappoint her. When he finally arrived at home, it was already eight pm and Abbu was asleep on the couch. CNN played in the background and Rashid had no idea why his dad insisted on watching it whenever he was home when he could read about it or do anything else. He quietly walked in, locked the door, and lowered the volume of the TV. He knew if he turned off the TV it would startle his dad awake and Abbu didn’t get a lot of sleep recently so that was the last thing Rashid wanted to do. Instead, he put away his things and started to make dinner. A family friend had dropped off food so he just had to heat it up. He wasn’t sure if Abbu ate so he made two plates filled with Nihari, biriyani, and naan. Nihari is a stew of slow-cooked beef and depending on who makes it it has some of the best flavors Rashid had ever had. He made some chai on the stove and added some cinnamon and spice. Although Rashid wasn’t an expert cook, he knew his way around a kitchen. His Ammi believed that both men and women should learn how to cook. It had been drilled into his head that you needed food for survival and cooking isn’t just something for girls. Still, he appreciated it when he didn’t have to worry about cooking even though the reason Aunties would send food is because they thought Rashid and his Abbu didn’t know how to cook. A common misconception. The aunties' food were scrumptious, so Rashid and his Abbu never corrected them when they made their assumptions. Rashid sat at the dining table and it was only when he was washing his dishes that Abbu woke up. “Ah, beta, you’re home!” Abbu exclaimed, as he rubbed his eyes and got up from the couch. “What did Aunty Samreena bring today?” Abbu asked. “Nihari, biriyani, and some naan. She also left a tray of pakoras and some samosas.” Rashid replied, as he handed Abbu his plate. Abbu smiled and microwaved his food. “Thanks for the chai, beta. How was the workshop? You did go, right, Rashid?” Rashid resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, Abbu. I went and it was alright. I probably won’t do it again but I’ll go for the D’awah workshop over the weekend, Insha’ Allah!” Rashid replied, as Abbu patted his shoulder. “Good, good, beta. Your Ammi will be pleased. Are you stopping by the hospital this weekend after the D’awah booth?” Abbu inquired. “Yes, Abbu. I’m going to go upstairs. I’m meeting with Hashim and some others tomorrow evening. Do you want me to do anything before then?” Rashid questioned. “That’s okay. I’ll be at the hospital in the evening after work, beta. I know Ammi didn’t want you to be there during the week but I’m sure she’ll want to see you over the weekend.” Abbu informed him as he started eating. Rashid sipped his chai as nodded along. He didn’t get the logic, but he knew better than to pressure his Abbu into answering his questions about Ammi and the chemotherapy. When Abbu was done, Rashid washed the dishes and they talked for a little while. Then Abbu got a call from a relative and Rashid rushed upstairs before Abbu could ask him to come and talk to whoever was on the phone. Rashid turned on his TV and began to watch Hassan Minhaj’s Homecoming King . He loved how Hassan got what it was like being a kid from an immigrant family with all this pressure to be perfect. Hassan wasn’t perfect and he shared his struggles of being Brown in America. He also thought it was hilarious how described how people used to view Hassan’s mom as a model. “She was like the iPhone 8 of Aligarh. Everyone was like, ‘Oh, my God, have you heard of Seema? She’s very slim and slender. Her family owns a camera,” Hassan said in Homecoming King and Rashid shook his head. He looked at the TV in amusement. When the show was over, Rashid prayed Isha with Abbu at the masjid and then headed back home. By the end of the night, Rashid scrolled through Instagram before drifting off. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day and he was going to need all the sleep he could get.
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So I thought this would be a fun tag to do since I'm participating in NaNoWriMo this year. For those of you who don't know NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month and it is where writers from all over the world write 50,000 for their novel. There is also a Young Writer's program for students so that they can set their own goal and challenge themselves. You can check it out at: www.nanowrimo.org or www.ywp.nanowrimo.org.
Here are the questions: 1. Tell me about your NaNoWriMo project this year! Give me a blurb. It's called My Big Fat Muslim Wedding. I'd pitch it as My Big Fat Greek Wedding meets Love from A to Z by S.K. Ali! This is the blurb for the script: An Indian Muslim man falls in love with a young, career-driven Sri Lankan Muslim woman. When they introduce each other to their parents, chaos ensues. Between meddlesome aunties, pretentious cousins, and the girl's siblings things are not as easy as they thought it would be. To make matters worse, someone leaked their engagement pictures to their parents! 2. What's the genre? it's a rom-com family dramedy! 3. Describe your MC in three words. Energetic,loyal, and witty. 4. Without spoilers, describe your villain in three words. Self-centered, pretentious, and cares a lot about being in the "right kind of family." 5. What is your goal? (the traditional 50k, 100k, etc) 50K! 6. Is this your first draft? Second? Third? First! 7. Are you starting a new project or an existing one? I started the first few pages a few days before NaNoWriMo. 8.What is your favorite time to write and why? Late at night when everyone's asleep or during the evenings when there's a writing sprint going on! 9. Where are you going to write? Either on my bed or at my desk. 10. Computer or pen? Computer but I like writing my outline in pen, 11.NaNoWriMo is a huge commitment!! How are you going to make time to write? I write when I can so usually in the evenings or when I get a break! 12. Are you going to participate in local or online NaNoWriMo events? (e.g. kick-off parties in your city, write-ins, virtual writing sprints…) Online events! I tend to attend a lot of livestreams or webinars throughout the month. 13. Do you write from beginning to end or skip around? Beginning to end. Sometimes I'll draft a scene that I'm excited about in a scene on Scrivener or word but it really just depends on how excited I am to write it. 14. Planner or pantser? (or plantser?) Plantser! 15. What will be your go-to NaNoWriMo snack? Red Swedish Fish or Recess Peanut Butter cup and coffee! 16. Any rewards for milestone achievements? For finishing NaNoWriMo? I will either get myself a book I've been eyeing or spend hours binge-watching a favorite show. 17. Share a tip for other NaNo-ers! Even if you think you won't need it, it's always important to have an outline. You can be pretty vague so that you can go off of it but it's helpful so you don't get writer's block. Even if NaNo has already started or is close to the end, there's always time to write an outline. Just so you have an idea of where you're going with your novel or writing project (if you're a NaNo Rebel!) 18. How are you feeling about NaNoWriMo? (Excited?! Nervous!? Terrified?!) EXCITED! 19.Share an aesthetic for your NaNoWriMo novel! I didn't make one yet, but maybe I'll make one when I'm done! 20.I want to tag these wonderful people!
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AuthorHere's where I'll write tips on surviving NaNoWriMo and where I'll share my writing journey . ArchivesCategories |