Chapter Three: Decisions, Decisions


Chapter Three: Decisions, Decisions

© Abu Zaynah

Amjad checked that the door to his room was securely shut. He didn’t want his mum, or anyone else for that matter, suddenly walking in on him.

His bedroom was the first room at the top of the stairs. It had a single bed against one wall with a computer desk next to it. On the other wall was a double wardrobe with mirrored doors, housing all his clothes and bits and pieces. There was a floating shelf above the desk with various miscellaneous items including a toy replica BMW car and some sports trophies.

Amjad switched on the laptop that was on his desk, and whilst it was loading he put the envelope with the photo and CV besides the laptop on the desk. The Windows log-in screen appeared with the user name Amz83. Amjad typed in his password and entered the windows desktop screen. He thought for a second about what he was going to do. He took out the paper and photo from the envelope and laid it out on the desk. He clicked onto internet explorer.

That evening after dinner Afsana went into the kitchen and handed the envelope back to her mother. “So what did you think dear?” asked the mother. Afsana smiled, and there it was again, that slight blush that brought out the pinkness in her cheeks. “I think I would like to meet him to find out more about him, he seems like a decent enough guy from the CV and photo”. “He comes from a decent enough family” replied the mother as she tidied away the dishes. “We shall call your uncle who bought the proposal and ask him to arrange a meeting. Go to bed now dear as you have an early start at work tomorrow”. “Ok mum, I’ll see you in the morning – Assalamu ‘Alaikum”. “Wa Alaikum Assalam”. This is the way in which Muslims greet each other when they meet and depart from each others company.

That night Afsana lied in bed looking up at the dark ceiling. Like Amjad she had been through a fair few proposal CV’s and photos. However, none of them had got to the stage of actually meeting the prospective partner. Either the guy was too short, too fat, not a practising Muslim (some people actually state this on their CV would you believe!) or some other reasons that prevented the proposal from going any further. This was the first one where she had actually asked to meet the person. This made her somewhat nervous. “Am I doing the right thing”, she wondered, as she recited Ayatul Qursi and then shut her eyes to fall asleep.

Amjad looked at the photo and then back at the screen of his laptop. He read the name on the paper, and then again looked at screen. It seemed as if he was comparing the information on the paper and photograph to something on his laptop. Like some kind of an amateur detective he was immersed in the content that he found on the laptop. He smiled from time to time and laughed occasionally. At times he would gasp and exclaim in amazement “Wow!”. This continued for around half an hour after which he decided that he had done enough for the night. Amjad switched off the machine and retired to bed.

The next morning he woke up bright and early. He got himself dressed up for work and ran downstairs for breakfast. Half way down the stairs he heard his mum watching the morning telly in the living room. He paused a moment and remembered that there was something he needed to give her. He walked back up into his room and picked up the envelope. He ran down and handed it to his mum. “I want to meet her, mum. I want to meet her. She could be the one”. His mum looked at him with a surprised look. She had never seen her son so keen on someone before. “All right son, I’ll see what I can do”. “Oh, and there is some toast ready in the kitchen for you”. Amjad went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea and then brought the toast and tea into the living room where he sat with his mum talking about what was on the telly before leaving for work.

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