The story of four wives!

Once upon a time there was a rich King who had four wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to the finest of delicacies. He gave her nothing but the best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much and was always showing her off to neighboring kingdoms. However, he feared that one day she would leave him for another.

He also loved his 2nd wife. She was his confidant, and was always kind considerate and patient with him. Whenever the King faced a problem, he could confide in her, and she would help him get through the difficult times.

The King’s 1st wife was a very loyal partner and had made great contributions in maintaining his wealth
and kingdom. However, he did not love the first wife. Although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice
of her!

One day, the King fell ill and he knew his time was short. He thought of his luxurious life and wondered,
“I ! now have four wives with me, but when I die, I’ll be all alone.”

Thus, he asked the 4th wife, “I have loved you the most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I’m dying, will you follow me and keep me company?”

“No way!”, replied the 4th wife, and she walked away without another word. Her answer cut like a sharp knife right into his heart.

The sad King then asked the 3rd wife, “I have loved you all my life. Now that I’m dying, will you follow me and keep me company?”

“No!”, replied the 3rd wife. “Life is too good! When you die, I’m going to remarry!”

His heart sank and turned cold.

He then asked the 2nd wife, “I have always turned to you for help and you’ve always been there for me.
When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you out this time!”, replied the 2nd wife. “At the very most, I can only send you to your grave.” Her answer came like a bolt of lightning, and the King was devastated.

Then a voice called out: “I’ll leave with you and follow you no matter where you go.” The King looked up, and there was his first wife. She was so skinny as she suffered from malnutrition and neglect.

Greatly grieved, the King said, “I should have taken much better care of you when I had the chance!”

In truth, we all have 4 wives in our lives: Our 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it will leave us when we die.

Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, it will all go to others.

Our 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how much they have been there for us, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.

And our 1st wife is our Soul. Often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the world. However, our Soul is the only thing that will follow us wherever we go.

Love Story… Ugly Twist of faith!

**

Once a Muslim young man loved a Christian girl , they wanted to get married but her parents would not accept because he was a Muslim! It
was a big dilemma for them! But they both loved each other sincerely and thought nothing should separate them.

One day , the Muslim man got very ill and was dying, he was on the death bed. A friend of his was beside him , he told him: Say Shahadah, say
La Ilaha Illa llah Muhammadun Rasulullah , but the Muslim man didn’t say it, he cried and told his friend: I ’ m afraid that if I die as Muslim I will not find my beloved in the hereafter !! So I want to become Christian hopefully I will meet her in the hereafter!! And he became Christian !! He came out of Islam , he became a murtad! And right after he went out of Islam he died ! So he died as a non- Muslim.

The girl that he used to love came asking about her lover, she found his friend , she asked him :
Have you seen that person (her lover)? He sadly told her that he died ! But he did not tell her that he went out of Islam ( Apostated ). She was very
sad and cried , and said : I fear as a non Muslim I will not meet him in the hereafter , So I bear witness that there is no God except Allah and Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah ! She embraced Islam, hopeful that she will meet him in paradise !

Later on she died , and died as a Muslim and her lover had died as a non -Muslim, she won Paradise and lost him, and he lost her and lost paradise and got hellfire .
Subhanallah, the wisdom behind this story is for one to remain steadfast onto Islam and keep the intention in the heart that I will live all my life on
Islam and to stay patient over the hardships and calamities, and Allah will reward tremendously . We ask Allah to keep us stead fast to Islam , wal Hamdulillah .

Respect The Letters

Respect the Letters (Continued)
                        ﺭ* ﻁ* ﻝ* ﺩ

                                                    ﺩ
Me *Hey Rokeeya, how are you?* I initiated
another text a few days after she suggested
that I stop at the MSA which I haven’t done
yet.
Rokeeya *Hey… You again?* she asked. Her
annoyance was definitely ‘showing’.
Me*I am sorry to bother you. What are you
studying by the way?*
Rokeeya *Who wants to know Aaron? I am
busy.* I felt the sharpness in her words even
though they were not said to my face.
Me*Do you always have a wall up?* I asked
intrigued by this creature. My intuitions were
telling me that her acts were just smoking
mirrors. If there was one thing I knew how to
do was to spot a girl that had a thing for me.
And on that night she came to our house, I
definitely sensed distraction in her thoughts
before she spoke.
Rokeeya *I am studying for finals. I am on
working on my PHD in Chemistry, and this
semester is my last insha Allah*
Me*Wow! Good luck.* This girl was almost
taking off with her life, and I was still trying
to get a Bachelor’s degree. I thought to
myself.
If I wanted to have any chance to graduate to
impress her, I needed to put some order in
my life. I was two years behind on my degree
because of the distractions of Greek life. So
much for wanting to become a History
teacher. I needed to leave New York and go
somewhere else more student friendly. I
barely passed my classes. The life here
worked for some people but not for me. My
fraternity alone was my biggest distraction.
What makes you think that she would be
there when you are ready to affront her again ,
my consciences snapped in. ‘We will just
have to wait and see,’ I muttered. She
seemed like the type that make men run in
the other direction. So, I may be in luck
because I had eyes on the prize; her. I swore
to myself then that her tenacity would not
deter me from trying to get her.
Where can I go? Where should I go if I want
a taste of some American History? The
questions just kept popping in my mind. All I
knew was that Google could point me in the
right direction. After searching American
History, a list of redneck TV shows popped
up. As stereotyping this sounded but true
enough, I decided to go to Texas.
Now, Houston or Richardson? According to
my researches, both cities have a high
community of Muslims. Hmm, maybe this my
ticket to get to know more on Muslims and
see what they are up to since the school year
is over. I decided to go for a school that did
not have my fraternity so that I wouldn’t
betempted to join. UTD (University of Texas
in Dallas) is my first choice.
I applied to the school for the fall 2013 and
decided to take the spring semester off. Time
to make money for my trip to Texas!
ﻝ
I stared at the last text feeling cheated; ‘Wow!
Good luck.’
He didn’t even say good bye. It was like he
was intimidated by my level of education or
saw a ghost then scurried away as soon as
possible. He also didn’t even try to flatter me
with Latin words like he normally did. Oh
well, why am I even obsessing over this boy
when he wasn’t even Muslim? He will
probably try to text me in a few days, I
inferred delusional.
Days passed. Then weeks elapsed. And
before I knew it, months had gone by. Aaron
had probably found a girl that was not harsh
like me. Every day, I had to stop my
nafs from constantly reminding me of
someone I could not have. It is probably
better that way. But how did he even
disappear with noone knowing where he was.
As a new Alumnus, I inquired on him a few
times and that raised doubts in the minds of
my sisters that were still in the House and
going to school. This is how it went down
during one of my weekly visits after grad
school.
“By the way Ameetah, is that tool of Aaron
still leading that TMZ chapter?” I asked her in
a pseudo disinterested tone.
“No one knows where he is. He never came
back after last fall semester. You keep asking
that question a lot. Why do you care?”
“Yes, why do you care?” Homayra jumped in
in our A to B conversation. She was
obviously eavesdropping.
Darn ! There were no secrets in this
sisterhood. Ameetah knew everything on
campus even though she was unnoticeable
the majority of the time like Madhuri in
Outsourced . She was the gossip queen with
her nerdy classes and self. Bright sister
though.
After that, I stopped inquiring to raise more
suspicions on myself. However, one day I
don’t know what came over me, and I
decided to text him. I had his number on my
phone all along but assembling all the guts in
the world to cross ‘The Line’ was my main
concern. I am still human so don’t judge me.
Me* Hi Aaron, did you ever check out the
MSA*
Aaron’s phone*Who are you?*
Me*Wrong number.* I prompted to reply. I
knew this was a bad idea! Ugh! I wanted to
dig a hole and hide myself in. I am such a
moron!
Aaron’s phone *Liar! He will only marry me
la bellaza or whatever your name is.*
May be the receiver had a point, I was lying.
Ignoring this ever happened would be the
best thing to do now. But wait a minute, la
bellaza ? Forget it; he probably didn’t
remember my name so he went by this
predictable name. I refuse to believe that he
was still into me. Plus, he looked like he was
getting married. Excuse me! I was not getting
on this train. So long irrational wishes! I
finally thought before unplugging him from
my thoughts forever.
ﻁ
“Uncle A, this girl texted you but I deleted
her texts and her name from your phone
along with other ones. I will be the only
woman in your life.”
“Melanie…You did what?” This niece of mine
was definitely a psychopath. I had yet to
understand her infatuation with my lame self.
I wanted to scold her further but her eyes
started to water and she was about to burst
out in tears.
“I ..I …I am sorry uncle Aaron.” Against my
will, I gave her a hug. I knew she was
playing me. And she probably had a smirk
on her face while faking these crocodile tears
while my protective arms were wrapped
around her. A few more minutes of
consolation went by before I gently kicked
her out of my room. Unbelievable! I blinked
for a second and she was all over my private
life.
‘Now, who are the ones that she deleted?’ I
secretly pondered. Then, I thought of
checking my data usage online. Ha! I
seriously hope it is Rokeeya. But it dawned
on me that our internet was down and my
cell phone was not immune. Seriously no
bars? The universe must be against me. If it
is important, God please let whoever that
contacted me do it again. God? I never asked
upon him. That’s a first.
And so I waited and waited and no one ever
did. From that point on, I carried all my
personal belonging around with me. I logged
out of my computer. I put a password on
everything I owned to deter that little pest to
screw with my life again.
I wasn’t interested in girls after I met
Rokeeya because I yearned for that rare
feeling I experienced when I first laid eyes on
her. She didn’t have an overpowering scent.
She just smelled fresh. She was very
attractive. Having said that, ‘beauty lies in the
eyes of the beholder.’ I wondered if her hair
was curly under that scarf of hers. My
curiosities were satisfied when her vindictive
sister posted her pre-Islam pictures all over
the school campus. I kept a picture of her,
and I bet she would have been mad if she
knew I held on to one.
When you are a crook, you think like one and
act like one. I said that because my eyes
were sparkling with malice because of my
next move. Because I snatched a picture of
hers without her knowledge, I searched the
pockets and clothes of all my pledges before
we got inside our frat house. Then, I told
them that if anyone was caught with a
picture of Rokeeya I would personally see
that they are reprimanded. I implied and
intensified that hazing was meant. I knew I
was selfish but I couldn’t bear the thought of
her being slandered as I was growing a
strange sensation to her.
“Why do you care?” a pledge inquired.
“Because I said so Bill! She is Muslim and
she doesn’t deserve the disrespect. I am not
one but I know that much from their religion.
Their privacy and respect is something they
strive to keep intact.’
“ Oooo , someone is going gooey on us…” and
a bunch of more oooo followed from the
crowd of pledge.
I thought quick and decided to give them an
ultimatum they would take seriously. “If you
value your initiation that is taking place the
day before finals, you will do as I say.” They
knew then I wasn’t in the mood or for that
matter joking around. There were dozens of
boys that would literally kill to rush our
fraternity.
My threat worked and that was my last
semester as acting president. As I was
thinking this, I reached for my wallet in my
pocket and admired her picture once again.
Here she was; temptatious and the real
Devious Maid of her Master. Like a stalker
would, I perfected her poster into a wallet
picture and stared at it for hours. Some days,
I would fall asleep watching her. I was mad
about her but I promised I would not contact
her until I was a descent and eligible
candidate to be able to make her fall for me.
Hopefully, she would miss me during the
silent time that had elapsed between us.
ﺭ
“Hey Jerry! It is Aaron.”
“Hey man! The hermit is finally out! Where
were you man? We missed you!”
“Same here, I am in Dallas, Texas.”
“Wow, all the way there? Why?”
“Long story. Do you have Fatou’s number?”
“Yea, but she doesn’t give me the light of
day. You aren’t trying to hook up with her?
Are you?”
“Shut up! I need to talk to her friend
Rokeeya.”
“Oh, the former freak. Man, I wished you let
us play and fantasize with her pics.”
“Watch it man! If you don’t have room in you
to see past people’s past and respect
women, you will never land a decent one
brother. I wouldn’t even dare to play with her
picture that way.”
If my subconscious was in control, I would
have gave in. I resisted the urge every time
the desire presented itself.
“I am sorry dude. You are different now. I
wonder why… No offense, I was just joking.
Take a pen, I know her number by heart. She
drives me nuts!”
I jotted down the number and thanked him
and promised to come visit them soon. Then,
I called Fatou.
“ Assalamu aleikum Fatou, this is Aaron.”
“ Assalamu aleikum ?” she paused trying to
understand why I was calling her. And to top
it all, why I was greeting her in Arabic
“Yea, I am a new member of ALM.”
“ALM? As in Alif Laam Meem? Is everything
okay with you?”
“Yes, I need to talk to Rokeeya. Is she
married yet?”
“No, she is not. Did you become Muslim to
impress her?” her tone was very inquisitive.
She wasn’t convinced at all. And all I was
thinking was ‘she was a career girl for sure.’
The idea gave me hopes of still being in the
race.
“Yes and no.”
That’s all I said and my short answer tipped
her off to drop the subject. She realized it
wasn’t her place to question my faith and
choice.
“Let me talk to her and get back to you. If
she is interested in talking to you, she will
contact you herself.”
“Sounds good, thank you Fatou.”
“No problem Akhi . Did Jerry give you my
number?” she asked.
“Yes, he did. I apologize for that.”
“It is okay. Jerry has a bad case of not
accepting rejection.”
“I agree.” And we both laughed and I said
houb salam to her. I also asked her not to
say anything about my new faith to her
friend. I wanted to tell Rokeeya myself. I
hoped she didn’t steal my sun. I was also
elated to know that my Devious Maid wasn’t
wedded yet. She had the mean-strong
character of Zoila Diaz and the intuition and
intelligence of Marisol Suarez. Such a
contradiction but I was falling with her every
day that passed.
(To be continued)

Jazak’Allah Khair for reading,
Papatia F eauxzar
Author of “Between Sisters, SVP!” and
upcoming novel “ The Hazardous Life of
Nilüfer”

Copyright © Papatia Feauxzar 2014

RESPECT THE LETTERS (conti)

ط
It was 9 p.m. during the winter season. So, I prayed Ishaa (the last obligatory prayer of the day) and went on a study spree. My PhD researches were consuming a lot of my time but it was all worth it. I hope my thesis on the HIV drug I am working on shatters the floor and leave the committee speechless.

Anyways, as I was studying, I decided to have a word with Homayra (also known as Homie) before sleeping on it. I searched for her number in my phone and dialed her number instead of walking to her room. Laziness at its pinnacle!

“Hey, can you come to my room please?”

“Sure.” She replied.
A few minutes later, she knocked at my door.

“Come in.” I said.

She came in, and I told her to sit next to me on my bed. So I started, “Do you have an expelling wish?” I asked still trying to wrap my head around her leading disaster.

“No.” She replied bluntly. She honestly did not have a clue.

“I mean you promise me that you would look after the girls and look what happened.”

“Jeez, relax!” She said. “I joined this group to have a family that does not judge me. So, don’t start.”

“Please don’t use that j-word, it is not appropriate for a Muslim like yourself.”

“And you are telling how to talk now? Omg, you are so overbearing and perfect! You micro-manage everything around here! Come on Rokeeya, just relax a little bit!”

“I am not going to relax because I do not want a bad reputation for the group or myself.”

“Ain’t you Miss. Perfect over here?” She roared intensely.

“No, I am not perfect Homie! It is very degrading to see sisters that wear or do not wear the veil strut themselves openly and engage in blamable behavior like you guys did this weekend. You think boys keep secrets to themselves. No, they don’t! They share with their friends and the next time you are amongst them, they giggle when they look at you! Be careful! Have some honor and dignity.” I pleaded.

“How do you know?” She asked with an unsure look.

“Because I have seen it many times.” I replied sadly.

“Hum…” That is all she said and left my room.

“Way to have manners! Unbelievable!” I let out exasperated.

ل
I should have seen the next morning come up. I was blindsided. In fact, the way that hot head of Homie left my room last night should have made me realize that something was up. As I was walking the streets of the campus, I came across my pictures pre-Islam glued all over the University town. I started pulling the pictures down but there so many of them, and I could not do it alone. I panicked.

My reputation was garbage now with pictures of me wearing the skankiest clothes ever are all over the university. I prayed that Allah spare the sisterhood from slander. I guess I am taking the hit instead. I recited the surah 2 verse 156. Then I called Fatou. She was genuinely sorry.

“Don’t worry, I will come down right now, and we will find a way to deal with it insha Allah.” She said hopeful.
I hung up and got busy removing the pictures of me I could spot.

“I knew you had a streak of freaky in you!” Aaron laughed behind me.

“This is not funny! I have long repented from my sins.” I replied with a sullen look.

“I am sorry about that.” Aaron said after realizing that he hit below the belt. Then, he accrued, “do you need help?”

“I am fine.” I actually needed help but I did not want to admit to it. Saved by the bell! Fatou showed up at the same time.

“Fatou and I can handle it.” I said hoping that she backed me up.

“No Rokeeya, this is way too much. Who could have done that?” She asked.

“I am sure Homie knows.” I barked.

“Don’t throw accusations in the air.” Fatou reminded me.

“Ladies, I can have my brothers help us remove all these scandalous pictures.” Aaron jumped in the conversation.

“That is a great idea.” Fatou interjected.

“No way!” I retaliated.

“You don’t have a choice. And my guess is that they have already seen your pictures or heard about them.” Aaron dropped some reality words on me.

“Fine call them.” I gave up.
He gawked at me for a while and got busy. A few hours later, my posters were gone from the face of the university.

“Please say thank you to your brothers for me.” I asked him before heading to the sisterhood’s house. I was mentally and physically exhausted. On the way home, a few boys whistled at me. I rolled my eyes and thought: Great! I guess I am going to wear a niqab now to stop the unwanted attention.
Back at the house, Homie was waiting for me in the living room.

“Liked the display of your past life on the walls?” She asked me wickedly.

“Your doing?” I asked.

“Of course it is. It was very easy to do. I just googled your name, and there were everywhere.” She admitted with a grin. Unbelievable! She did not even deny it.
So I got in her face, stared coldly at her, and said, “You think this is going to shake me? It just makes me stronger. I forgave you for your acts over the weekends but you go and do this to me. That is very low and shady! And coming from my own sister, it is very disappointing.”

“Well, I thought to myself: I will either be kicked out or have her kicked out.” Homie antagonized me further.

“You are a psychopath! I was not even planning to have your badge removed.”

She felt stupid then.

“Oh I am so sorry. That was very spiteful.”

“Ya think?” I asked in a pseudo-incredulous tone.

“Excuse me, I need to take of these ‘cockroaches’ of the internet.” I let out disappointed and crushed. Then, frustrated, I roughly bumped my shoulder to hers before disappearing behind her.
د
I emailed Google, Bing, etc. to take any pictures (covered or not) of me down. It was a ‘fun” process.

Later that night, Aaron texted me.

Aaron *Hey, you are very beautiful. But I did not need to see uncovered pictures of you to know that. Aaron.*

Me *Where did you get my number? And thank you for the compliment.* I blushed at his words.

Aaron *I have my sources and that is my business ;).*

Me *Touché! What’s up?*

Aaron *Bellissima…*

Me* La bellaza would be more appropriate. I am not Italian, lol! Anyways, I don’t mean to burst your bubble but you and me can’t happen.*

Aaron *Because I am not Muslim? That is wildly unfair.*

Me *It is not. I am not encouraging your feelings because it goes against my belief. I worship Allah and not feelings or love for that matter.”

Aaron * Very deep. This is not over. I want to learn about your religion.*

Me * Stop by the MSA (Muslim Student Association)’s office, they can help you 😉 *

Aaron * Will do.*

Me * Talk to you another time.* I replied and smiled. There was something about him I could not quite explain or understand yet.

***

By

Papatia Feauxzar
Author of “Between Sisters, SVP” Novel

“The Hazardous Life of Nilüfer” Upcoming novel
“The Dream” Upcoming novel
“Freedom Fighter” Short story
“Fixed Up!” Short story
“Change of Shoes” Short story

Respect the letters 2

Part 2
ر
“Are you coming or not?” I asked.

“Do I have a choice?” Fatou snarled bitterly.

And we left the house in our green and white abaya (dresses) we normally wear for chapter (weekly meetings). Our hijabs were white. In our rush, I forgot to hide my Juicy Couture heart necklace.

The AKA (Alpha Kappa Alpha)’s house was to our left and the GPhiB (Gamma Phi Beta)’s house was on our right. Behind us stood the house of the APhi (Alpha Phi). Further down to right, we could see the houses of the XΩ (Chi Omega) and the ΚΔ (Kappa Delta).
Within ten minutes, we were at the house of the TMZ (Tau Mu Zeta). They were also known as Trouble Maker Zeroes. Their members opted for Troubled Maker Zorros instead.

I spoke first. “I am here to see your president if he is available.” I spoke with confidence and my head high. I am a woman that will not be intimated by men, I tried to convince myself inside.

“He only meets people on appointment but since you guys are Irish that came to give their hearts to him, I am sure he won’t mind.” The tool mocked us.

“We are not Irish, and we are here to discuss business.” I replied with a sharp and calmed tone while putting my heart necklace under my abaya.
The tool gave me a look which was part amused, part confused before going in to get his president. That’s right silly; I am not oppressed or afraid to speak my mind! The media and people with their own cultural baggage would have you believe that a Muslim woman is supposed to be afraid to speak up or make a difference.

The tool of frat boy came back with his president and stood next to me. Their president was definitely the type I used to fall for; tall, blond, with green eyes. I hoped his looks would not distract me from what I was there for.

“Hello, I am Aaron. What can I do for you?” He asked.

“Hmm… Hi, can we sit somewhere to talk in private with my sister? I said loosing my focus due to my slight attraction to him. Slight? Noooo, it is a major what is happening right now.

“If your sister is coming, my brother, who is also my right hand, has to come.”

Dang it! We are outnumbered. Well, even… I should have taken Fatou’s advice to come with her brother. She read my mind and shot me a look that said I told you so!

“Give me a minute to consult with my sister.” I told him and pulled Fatou closer. “What do you think?”

“Tell him that we can sit under the tree over there with the benches. We need to be quick. I don’t want people spotting us here. It is a man place…” She replied uneasy.

I relayed the info to him, and we went to sit under the tree. I started, “Over the weekend, a group of sisters from our sisterhood came over here and were enabled to smoke drugs. One thing led to another and questionable and inappropriate behaviors were the results.”

Aaron’s face changed and became icy. “I am not aware of any drugs.” Then, he shot a look at the tool whose name is Jerry.

“Jerry is that true?”

“She may be right. I heard rumors.” Jerry admitted distracted. He was devouring Fatou with his eyes. She was just ignoring him the whole time. She has that effect on many men and women. She was not flashy or anything but she had this aura that drew people in. Men wanted to make her their Queen and women wanted to be her friend or become just like her. She had that Nur (light).

“What? You don’t even know what’s going in your own house?” I snarled.

“Lady, this is not the time to pass judgments. For all I care, we men will always come up on top and your sisters will unfortunately be treated as little whores after what happened. So calm down so we can figure this out.”

His words stabbed me. Oh no, he did not just call my sisters names!
As soon as I wanted to jump in his face with my quick temper, obviously angered by his statements, Fatou grabbed my hand to hint me to calm down and think clearly at my next move. Thing I did. I recomposed myself pretty quickly and sat.

“I don’t care if you knew or not. I am here as damage control. I want to put a lid on this one. I am sure you don’t want to loose any members over this or your charter for that matter. Neither do I. If international hears of this, we are grass, and they will be the lawnmowers. So, find the culprits and deal with them. It is irresponsible.” I ended my prose in a verdict tone.

“Feisty Muslim girl, huh?” He said and continued. “I have never seen anyone quite like you. You are very bossy.”

“There is a start for everything. Do we have a deal?” I retorted.

“Yes, we will tie loose ends.”

“How did you hear about it?” He asked.

“I have my sources and that is my business.” I replied with a grin. Quite honestly, a new member was the whistle blower. Her name is Ameetah. She decided to stay at the house the weekend in question. However, after a load of homework, she decided to visit the frat house and check on her sisters to relax a little bit. At her own disbelief, she found the girls misbehaving and not sober. She left promptly without them noticing that she saw them. She, then, struggled to tell me not wanting to sound like a traitor. I am glad she did before we ended up on national Television.
“So long brothers!” I said sarcastically to Aaron and Jerry. Jerry was barely listening since he was drooling over Fatou the whole time. Then I told Jerry, “She is out of your league.” I winked evilly.
Fatou smiled modestly and got up to leave with me.

TO be continued

By Papatia Feauxzar
Author of between sisters (SVP)

RESPECT THE LETTERS (CONTINUES)

Fatou will think that is a terrible idea but this sisterhood means everything to me. If it was not for this sisterhood, I would have… I can’t finish my sentence.
ل
My name is Rebecca Tia Lorenzo. I was born in Mexico, and came to USA as an illegal immigrant along with my family. I am currently a Doctoral student in Chemistry. I am very bright without trying to be full of myself or conceited. I just had a weakness which was partying like a wild animal.

A party was not a party until I came in. I drunk like a fish, I smoked like a chimney, and I got higher than a Georgia pine. I was home schooled so I had a gift to learn on my own. I did not need to show up for boring lectures. I just showed up on exam days and walked out cocky as ever because I knew I just aced another test. Teachers hated me but they could not do anything about it. I had a boyfriend but “he was too good for me” meaning he cheated on me constantly. I loved him, and I did not want to give the pleasure to be free by breaking up with him. So, to cope with this dysfunctional life on mine, I just spiraled down with the illegal stuff. I am sure you thought I slept around. I would have probably if I was not so hung up on the boyfriend. I actually received a lot of advances that I rejected, claiming allegiance to a cheater. My subconscious is rolling her eyes in a grimace.

So, one day, I was at a frat party in my first year of college and this beautiful girl approached me. I mean she was very beautiful. It seemed like she was glowing with angel like rays. She was veiled, and she was mixed. She asked me why I was behaving the way I was.  At first, I gave her a quizzing look then I said, “It is a boring and shameful story.”

“I don’t judge. Let me hear it.” She said quietly with a compassionate look.

People don’t have this effect on me. This girl was poised. She had graced to make me envious for million of years. I wanted to be like her. So, I told her my story.

“Then, she said. I am a member of RTL.”

“What’s RTL?” I asked. Then, she told me everything there was to know about her sisterhood. I became very interested but I was not Muslim. I could not blame them for not letting me join down the road if I wanted to because there is a religion requirement and a good reason to back their stand up. I put the Muslim thought aside and said.

“This may sound cheesy but my initials are RTL.” I let out with a dork tone.

“No way!” She exclaimed amazed.

“Yes, my name is Rebecca Tia Lorenzo.” I smiled. And on an impulsive tone, I said “I want to become Muslim. This is a Sign!”

“Masha’Allah!” Fatou beamed. She helped me recite the shahada (An Islamic creed to declare belief in Monotheism, Allah and his Messenger) and I became Muslim. I changed my name to Rokeeya after that. In the Greek world, they would say that Fatou had just rushed a new member. The sisterhood helped me get back on the right track and fulfill my purpose on this earth; worship Allah. Lord knows I would have self-destroyed myself in this ratchet past life.
د
After debating on my options about the weed situation, I went to knock on sister’s Fatou’s door.

“Come in.” She yelled over.
I went in then.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“Drugs are not allowed here, and I don’t to strip the responsible sisters of this beautiful sisterhood. I am torn. I don’t know what to do. I never had to make such an important decision.”

“Please forgive them. Don’t take their badge away.” She pleaded.

“I know. I have forgiven them. I just can’t forget. What kind of Muslim would have been if I don’t forgive them?” I asked confused. “Anyways, I want to talk to the president of the fraternity. We need to keep this under a lid. It is shameful.”

“Yea, it is said ‘he who covers a Muslim (his mistakes and shortcomings), Allah will cover him in the Dunya and the Hereafter;’ ” Fatou said pensively and added, “Having said, meeting this guy is risky. May be we should go with my brother just in case.”

“Not a bad idea but I don’t want anybody between our two houses knowing.”

“Rokeeya! Come on, don’t be so self-centered and make a bad judgment call here. You are no Olivia Pope!” She finished.

I was not listening to her anymore. This is the first time I actually did not take her advice into consideration. I hope I don’t go down for my “lapse” in judgment. I am going to fix it!

To be continued

BY

Papatia Feauxzar
Author of “Between Sisters, SVP” Novel

“The Hazardous Life of Nilüfer” Upcoming novel
“The Dream” Upcoming novel
“Freedom Fighter” Short story
“Fixed Up!” Short story
“Change of Shoes” Short story

***Respect The Letters***

                          ر* ط* ل*  د

Aka RTL (Rho Taw Lambda)

Author’s note

Throughout my stories, you will notice that the characters are not perfect. There are flawed. There is a great tendency for many Muslims to paint the Believers as no sin makers. We need to be realistic and admit that we are humans and that sinning is our second nature. We learn from them and they make us better Muslims. I will give you another detail about me. I used to be a sorority girl, so that has inspired me to write this story.
ر
“This sisterhood must uphold the upmost traits of the Muslimah on campus! Am I crystal clear?” I yelled to the crowd of sisters staring at me during chapter.
“Yes, sister Rokeeya.” They replied in unison.
“What is the third sentence of our moto?” I asked in a challenging tone.
Sister Dhara raised her hand. “Yes, sister Dhara.”
“Learn Purity from Maryam (aleihi salam).”
“Good! I doubt some of you reflected on that this weekend. Respect the steps of the Muslimah that we are trying to follow. And respect the letters, our letters and what they stand for. ” I paused to search for their shamed eyes.
“I move to adjourn the meeting.” I said with a dry tone.
“I second.” Another voice in the group let out.
“Chapter is adjourned. See you next Thursday night insha Allah. Behave yourselves.” After my last words, the sisters dispersed quickly to their room. I am sure there are secretly calling me names inside but I don’t care.
Over the weekend, there was a fraternity party on campus and some of sisters were invited. They know my position on mixing with men who are not mahram to us but they promised me that they will be careful and not act like fools. After all, there are the images of our group of sisters. Our sisterhood has a variety of Muslims sisters from strict to lax behavior due to the way they were raised as Muslims by their families. Some of the sisters belong to different Madhab and some did not belong to any Madhab. The bottom line is that we all considered ourselves Sunni or Shiite Muslims.
To go back to the story, the attending sisters got “tricked” into smoking hookah with the boys. I have a felling they wanted to be corrupted anyways. The herb in question was actually something that rhymes with Marie Jane. That and peer pressure were not a good mix leading to the boys becoming wanderers with their hands. I will spare you the details but zina (fornication) definitely happened. I am so appalled by their behavior! I normally chaperoned the girls at mixers because I don’t have a choice, and it is 2012! On campus, some people already consider us unsocial. That weekend I decided to visit my family. Fatou was not available either but the girls promised with Homayra on the lead that they will act like there are supposed to. They promise me that they will be on their best behaviors.
We do not wish to create a bid’ah or imitate other with the Greek stuff but our organization was put together by Muslim sisters Alumnae of the school that believed that a group of sisters that taught each other how to read the Quran el-Karim would be great. By the same token, the sisters will bond and foster great relationships that will help them not fall off the wagon with the distractions of college life. Lord knows that the company one keeps plays a major role in the way one turns out, good or bad.
Anyways, the Alumnae built us a house on campus that they furnished and took care of the paperwork. In the Muslim world, we are called ر* ط* ل* د  . In other words, Raw Taw Lam Da. Our purpose is to: Recite The Letters, Respect The Letters, and Read The Lecture while being classy and chaste Muslimahs. In the Greek environment, we are known as RTL (Rho Taw Lambda Ρτλ). Our motto is:
“Learn Patience from Asiyah (aleihi salam),
Sincerity from Aisha (aleihi salam),
Purity from Maryam (aleihi salam),
Loyalty from Khadija (aleihi salam),
And Steadfastness from Fatimah (aleihi salam).”

I am having a tough time leading the group as the President taking into account that I did not become a “saint” up until 5 years ago. I have had a smeared past that I try to hide from these girls. They think I don’t know what there experiencing now. I have been there. I just have better priorities now. Allah is my first and foremost priority. Everything I do and strive for is to please him. For that reason they see me as a jerk. One time, I even heard a sister in her room say that I need to get laid. May be she is right but it won’t happen until I am married. As I am lost in my thoughts, Fatou tried to get my attention.
“Hey, you okay?” She said worried.
I have not zoned out again! I hate these momentary lapses I experience quite often. “Yes, I am fine.” I attempted to let quickly. I continued “We have a lot on our hand with these girls.” I sighed.
“That is true.” Fatou rolled her eyes. Fatou is the vice-president of the sisterhood. She is still pure unlike me. I really admire and respect her. Her point of view is very valuable to me, too. We grab our Qur’an, planners, and pens and leave the sisterhood’s living room to join our bedrooms.
ط
Back in my room, I am torn between the implications of the members smoking weed mean. Not only we risk being kicked out campus and our charter removed, we also face slander, and my leadership questioned. Bad news travel fast. Right now, noone outside the fraternity and us know that drugs were consumed on campus. I need to talk to the president of that fraternity but I can’t do it alone. I need someone to come with me. Fatou will think that is a terrible idea but this sisterhood means everything to me. If it was not for this sisterhood, I would have… I can’t finish my sentence.

To be continued

By

Papatia Feauzar
Author of “*Between Sisters, SVP!*”

Another Marriage Funny! ***The Deaf Wife Problem***

   Sunil feared his wife wasn’t hearing as well as she used to
and he thought she might need a hearing aid.
Not quite sure how to approach her, he called the family
Doctor to discuss the problem.
The Doctor told him there is a simple informal test the
husband could perform to give the Doctor a better idea
about her hearing loss.
“Here’s what you do,”
said the Doctor,
“stand about 40 feet away from her, and in a normal
conversational speaking tone see if she hears you.
If not, go to 30 feet,
then 20 feet,
and so on until you get a response..”
That evening,
the wife is in the kitchen cooking dinner,
and Sunil was in the den.
He says to himself,
“I’m about 40 feet away, let’s see what happens.?”
Then in a normal tone he asks,
“Honey, what’s for dinner?”
No response….
So he moves closer to the kitchen,
about 30 feet from his wife and repeats,
“Honey, what’s for dinner?”
Still No response…
Next he moves into the dining room where he is about 20
feet from his Wife and asks,
“Honey, what’s for dinner?”
Again he gets No response…
So, he walks up to the kitchen door,
about 10 feet away.
“Honey, what’s for dinner?”
Again there is No response….
So he walks right up behind her,
“Honey, what’s for dinner?”

(You’ll Love this)

“For God’s sake Sunil,
its the FIFTH time I am telling you,
its ‘Rice’ for dinner.!

This Will take 37 seconds

Will take just 37 seconds to read this and
change your thinking..
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same
hospital room.
One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an
hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from
his lungs.
His bed was next to the room’s only window.
The other man had to spend all his time flat on
his back.
The men talked for hours on end.
They spoke of their wives and families, their
homes, their jobs, their involvement in the
military service, where they had been on
vacation..
Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the
window could sit up, he would pass the time by
describing to his roommate all the things he could
see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those
one hour periods where his world would be
broadened and enlivened by all the activity and
colour of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.Ducks and
swans played on the water while
children sailed their model boats. Young lovers
walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every colour
and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen
in the distance.
As the man by the window described all this in
exquisite details, the man on the other side of
the room would close his eyes and imagine this
picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon, the man by the window
described a parade passing by.
Although the other man could not hear the band –
he could see it in his mind’s eye as the
gentleman by the window portrayed it with
descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring
water for their baths only to find the lifeless body
of the man by the window, who had died
peacefully in his sleep.
She was saddened and called the hospital
attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man
asked if he could be moved next to the window.
The nurse was happy to make the switch, and
after making sure he was comfortable, she left
him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one
elbow to take his first look at the real world
outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window
besides the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have
compelled his deceased roommate who had
described such wonderful things outside this
window.
The nurse responded that the man was blind and
could not even see the wall.
She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage
you.’
Epilogue:
There is tremendous happiness in making others
happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness
when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things
you have that money can’t buy.
‘Today is a gift, that is why it is called The
Present .’
The origin of this letter is unknown.

The story of Abu Hanifa (radi Allahu ‘anhu), and his neighbor.

It is well known that Abu Hanifa (radi Allahu ‘anhu), did
tahajjut every night. He would spend his night reciting
the Quran. He had a neighbor who was an alcoholic, and
he used to drink a lot and sing love poems. This used to
bother the imam.
But one day, the imam did not hear this man’s revelry,
so he went and asked about him. They said, “Oh, so-and-
so. They took him to jail.” So, the very well respected
imam went to the jail. He was the most respected imam
and qaadi at the time in that place. When the ruler
found out the imam went to the jail, he asked for the
reason and was told that the imam was concerned about
his neighbor who had been arrested. So, the ruler said to
release the man, and he was released.
    The neighbor then asked Abu Hanifa why he did that, and
he replied, “Because you have a right upon me as a
neighbor, and I have not been neglectful of that.” That
was the reason that the neighbor made tauba to Allah
subhâna wa ta’âla [that is: embraced islam].

Let’s be good neighbors to one another.

Great Moral Story: What Cannot Be Taught.

  Once upon a time, there lived in Basra an old man whose
only occupation was caring for and loving his only son
who was a handsome young man. The old man invested
all his money on his son’s education. The young man
went away for a few years and acquired an education at a
well known university under the great scholars of that
age.

  The day had arrived for the son to return from his
studies and the old man waited at the door for his son.
When the son came and met his father, the old man
looked into his eyes and felt great disappointment.

“What have you learnt my son?” he asked,

“I have learnt everything there is to be learnt father“, he said.

“But have you learnt what cannot be taught?” asked the
father. “Go my son and learn what cannot be taught“,
said the old man.

The young man went back to his master and asked him
to teach him what cannot be taught.

“Go away to the mountains with these four hundred sheeps and come back when they are 1000″ said his master.

  

   The young man went to the mountains and became a
shepherd. There for the first time he encountered
silence. He had no one to talk to. The sheep did not
understand his language. In his desperation, he would
talk to them but they would look back at him as if to say
he was stupid. Slowly but surely he began to forget all
his worldly knowledge, his ego, his pride and he became
quiet like the sheep and great wisdom and humility came
to him.
   At the end of two years when the number of sheep had
grown to one thousand, he returned to his master and
fell on his feet.

“Now you have learnt what cannot be taught,” said the master.

N.B. It is interesting to note that the (Prophets/ messengers)Nabis of Allah Taala (Alayhimus salaam) at some time in their lives, generally before Nubuwwat, tended to sheep, and other such animals.

I Died On An Ordinary School Day

I came across this touching and beautifully witten post and concluded that I must share it with you Insha Allah.

   

    I died. At 18,I passed away. Last night,I prepared for
my advertising class, carefully ironing my pink shirt, I
rehearsed my speech for the practical class. Like
many other people, my whole world revolved round
the school. Chasing the ‘almighty’ first class, the
school was my life. Nothing else. Alas!as I rehearsed
for Aunty Yinka’s class, I paid no attention to the last
day of my life. The last night of my life.
    I was young, smart and full of energy. My innocence
and humility caught the attention of most
people.However, I was one ordinary girl. A library
major with no hobbies and a totally dead social life.
Apart from my ever broad smile, I offered the world
nothing else. With no name, fame or my ‘almighty
degree’, I slept and I haven’t woken up. I am never
going to wake up. I am dead.
  Confirming my death this Monday morning, the girls
on I-block retired to my room. I heard them calling
my name, screaming and shouting,swinging me back
and forth,pleading with me to wake up. Grief. Pain.
Sadness. I saw it all in their eyes. Too many who
didn’t know me had so much to say. She was too
young and gentle.Too pretty, they said amid tears.
They didn’t stop saying I was too young and pretty to
pass away but in the face of death, aren’t we equal?
On the death list, I have taken my turn!

   The news of my death soon spread like wildfire.
People called. They texted, tweeted,put it up on their
facebook walls and personal messages. Some others
took pictures and records of the sad event.

#RIP to the girl that committed suicide. #RIP to the girl who
died in Jaja today. #RIP to the girl that was poisoned…they put it up everywhere. Different stories of the news of my death.

How people came about all these stories is still beyond me!I never considered suicide.I wasn’t sick.Poisoned? No,I wasn’t. My death is still a mystery. A puzzle I cannot solve.

You cannot call my parents! I yelled! The Hall Warden
was already on the phone with them, then I realized I
am in a world of my own. I see the emptiness in the
heart of every single person I left behind. I have been
taken home. No,my body has been taken home. The
tears of the mother, the pain of the father. The
agony of bereaved parents. Just like them, I am
helpless. Cold and immovable.
    All my classmates were at Aunty Yinka’s advertising
class. For the fear of losing 10marks,they agreed that
life must go on. People have to die. Just what I would
have done. Sadly,I am the one who is dead, their
lives must go on. I am going to be buried, 6-feet. I
am aware that ants and worms down there will feast
on my pretty young body. How do they bite? Where
shall they begin to eat from? Fear.
    I have also read that the Almighty shall request for
the accounts of my short life. When last did I turn to
Him? Did I say my prayers last night? Did I not plan
to read The Book after lectures today? Alas!I did not
know the last time would be the last. I am in fear;
the fear of not finding peace down there.
     I am being prepared for my own burial,I am running
out of time to complete this piece. I am going ahead
to the next phase of my life, I hear that all my very
expensive clothes and shoes will be given out. Others
will be burnt. So that everyone can get me out of
their thinking and imagination. I will become history.
I might be forgotten!
     Before I drop my pen, I am not sure if I made the
best out my life. All the people I failed to forgive, the
past that I held on to and the future that I thought
was bright! Indeed,I forgot to live all the days of my
life to the fullest. Regrets. Pain. Fear.
I will soon be left with no friends, family, books and
toys. With my account with The Most High, I will be
all alone. I will be buried…SOURCE

Funny Yet Moral Story: The Shaikh And A Pigeon.

   A friend of mine told me this story: When I was young I
had a shaikh, one of the greatest human beings I have
ever known. I had met him quite by accident. He lived in
a small shack in a poor neighborhood. I had to deliver
some medicine for my father’s pharmacy. Once inside
this man’s quarters I realized I was in the presence of
someone quite unusual. For one thing, he possessed the
relics of several great shaikhs of different orders. The
day I met him he was having a conversation with two
other young men about my own age. Their names were
Metin and Refik. After hearing their conversation I began
to lose interest in the things that had occupied me. I
wanted only to attend these conversations. The three of
us were learning so much that we wished that more and
more people could also hear these conversations.
We begged our sheikh to allow the size of our circle to
increase. One day we were attending the prayers at a
great mosque. It was the feast of Ashura, the twelfth of
Muharram. We were just leaving the mosque when our
teacher paused on the steps because he noticed that a
pigeon had just dropped dead from the sky. He picked
up the poor bird, which was totally lifeless, held it
tenderly in his hands, breated a long Huuuuuuu…and
the bird came back to life and flew off into the sky! Well,
this act did not go unnoticed and before long there were
many people intersted in our shaikh. Many of them asked
to attend his conversations and our circle grew!

  It was not long before we found that we had very little
time with our beloved shaikh. He was too busy to see us,
attending to the needs of so many people. Then one day,
while doing the night prayer after our zhikr, our shaikh
let out a loud and smelly fart. People were astounded
that this holy man could do such a thing. In a short
period of time most of them had lost their faith in him
and our circle returned to nearly the size it had been
originally. One night when just the three of us were
sitting together, our shaikh remarked: “You see my sons,
those who come because of a pigeon, leave because of a
fart!”
From a book catalog put out by the brs. and srs. at the
Threshold Society……taken from Kabir
Helminski’s “The Knowing Heart”

Great Moral Story: The old man & The scorpion.

  An old man saw a scorpion drowning and decided to pull it
out from the water. He calmly extended his hand to reach
the creature. When he did, the scorpion stung him. With
the effect of the pain, the old man let go the creature and
it fell back into the water. The man realizing that the
scorpion was drowning again, got back and tried to rescue
it but then again it stung him. He let go of it again.
A young boy standing by, approached the old man and
said, “excuse me Sir, you are going to hurt yourself trying
to save the evil-vicious creature, why do you insist?Don’t
you realize that each time you try to help the scorpion, it
stings you?”

The man replied, “the nature of the scorpion is to sting
and mine is to help. It will not change in helping the
scorpion.”

So the man thought for a while and used a leaf from a
nearby tree and pulled the scorpion out from the water
and saved it’s life. Then, turning to the young boy, he
continued.
“Do not change your nature. If someone hurts you, just
take precautions. Some pursue happiness while others
create it. Let your conscience be your guide in whatever
you do.”

– Taking pain to remove the pains of others is the true
essence of generosity. (Abu Bakr ﻪﻠﻟﺍ ﻲﺿﺭ ﻪﻨﻋٰﯽﻟﺎﻌﺗ )

Beautiful Story: The Journey.

   One day of the many days, there was a man travelling with
his Wife and Kids. On the way they met a person standing
on the roadside.

He asked: “Who are you?”

The man said: “I am ‘the Money’.”

So the man asked his wife and kids: “Should we ask him to
ride with us?”

They all said together: “Yes, of course! Because ‘the Money’
can help us do anything we want and get anything we
wished.” So they took ‘the Money’ to ride with them.

The vehicle continued on its way until they met another person on the road.

The Father asked: “Who are you?”

He said: “I am ‘the high position and power’.”
So the father asked his wife and kids: “Should we ask him
to ride with us?”
They all answered in one voice: “Yes, of course! Because
with ‘the high position and power’ we have the ability to
do anything we want and own anything we wished.” So they
took ‘the high position and power’ with them, and the
vehicle continued to finish its trip.

In this way, they met with many people who promised
pleasures and desires of life,

   UNTIL… They met one strange person… The Father asked: “Who are you?”

He said: “I am ‘the Deen’ (Islam).”

So the father, the wife, and the kids; all of them said in
one voice: “No, no, this isn’t the time, we desire the
pleasures of life and the Dunyah. ‘The Deen’ will prevent us
and then stop us from all pleasurable things and it will
take control of our lives. We will be worn-out from being
loyal to it and its teachings. The Halaal and the Haraam,
and this thing ‘prayer’ and that thing ‘Hijaab’, and the
fasting, and; and; and; and; and; etc, It will be a burden
for us!!!”

“But certainly, we will return to pick you up after we enjoy
life and everything else in it.”

So sadly, they left him behind and the vehicle continued on
its trip.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere something appeared in the
middle of the road. It was a check-point with the sign
saying STOP!!! They found a man gesturing for the father to
get out of the vehicle.

The man said to the father: “Your trip has ended. Come with me.”

The father was shocked with fear and did not say a word.
The man said to him: “I am searching for ‘the DEEN’/islam. Is he with you?”

The father answered: “No, I left him not too far back. If you
could allow me to go back, I will get him for you.”

The man said: “You do not have the ability to go back now.
Your trip has ended and there is no returning… going back
is impossible.”

“But I have ‘The Money’; ‘the high position and power’; My
Wife; My Kids; and; and; and; and; and; and; so on.”

The man said to him: “Neither will they benefit you now
nor will they protect you when you come in front of Allah.
Not even one bit! You have left all of them behind. The
only one that will help you now is ‘The Deen’ you know, the
one who YOU left behind on the road.”

The father asked: “And who are you exactly?”

He replied: “I AM ‘the DEATH‘ – The one who you were
heedless of – and the one who you did not think of on your
trip!!!”

The father turned around and looked at his vehicle and
found his wife taking control and continuing the trip along
with all of the passengers besides him. And none of them
had stayed behind with him. He was left all alone!

LET US NOT COMPROMISE OUR DEEN FOR THE WORLDLY
THINGS. ONLY OUR DEEN WILL ACCOMPANY US BEYOND THE GRAVE. May ALLAH give us the ability to always do the
things that will help us on the Day of Reckoning. Aameen.