Introduction to Asma ul Husna

                    Strokes Of Destiny 

                                                                

                                                             Chapter 1 

Sitting on the beach, their favourite picnic spot, Shama's gaze drifted across the waves, her eyes returning to Amaan's serene face. "Do you miss those days?" She asked, her words barely above a whisper. "When we would laugh together with everyone, without any restrictions? When we didn't have to be always so conscious and cautious?"

Amaan's eyes locked on to hers, his expression unwavering. "No, Shama, I don't." His voice was firm, yet gentle. "There's no good in what Allah has prohibited. What Allah allows is purer."

Shama's gaze lingered on his face, her thoughts spilling out. "I don't miss anything from the past either, except the love of our families." Her voice cracked with emotion. "Why do they treat us like aliens just because we've become more religious? Haven't we only become better people?"

Amaan's fingers intertwined with hers, his touch warm and comforting. "Can you blame them, Shama?" His voice was laced with understanding. "Didn't we use to feel the same way about religious people before we became religious?"

Shama's eyes widened, recognition dawning. "We did, didn't we?" she whispered.

Amaan nodded. "We thought they were extreme, or judgmental. It’s only now that we understand the beauty of obedience to Allah." His eyes softened. "Our families still love us, Shama. That hasn't changed. But it'll take time for them to accept this new us. We have to be patient and allow them that."

Shama's shoulders sagged, her tension easing. "You're right," she whispered. "I just wish they could see the happiness our deen brings us."

Amaan's lips curved into a gentle smile. "They will, Shama. In time, they will, InshaAllah." His voice filled with conviction.

"Shall we make a move?" Amaan asked, standing up and dusting the sand from behind his pants, his effortless charm still captivating Shama two years into their marriage.

Shama lazily extended her hands to Amaan, gesturing for him to pull her up. With a mischievous grin, he seized her hands and yanked her up with a sudden jolt, sending Shama tumbling into his chest. Shama screeched. With his usual playful chuckle, he began dusting her back a little too hard as if making use of his chance to spank her.
“Ouch” Shama winced.
“You’re quite the mess, Mrs,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.
Shama giggled. “You’re not exactly spotless yourself Mr.,” she retorted, playfully brushing off his shoulders.

Their laughter filled the ocean air as they stood together, hands still entwined. The warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze seemed to amplify their happiness.

As they walked to the car park, Shama pondered: How had she not grown immune to this man's allure? Was it too soon for complacency, were they still basking in the glow of their honeymoon phase, seeing only the best in each other? Would this enchantment inevitably wear off?

Yet, contradictory emotions swirled within her. At times, their connection felt timeless, as if their souls had been connected for centuries. Other moments, like this one, left her giddy and giggly, like a teenager experiencing her first crush.

Amaan's smile, the sparkle in his eyes, still awakened butterflies in her stomach. Gratitude washed over her; she felt blessed to have him as her husband. A recurring thought of amazement echoed in her mind: "There's only one Amaan in the world, and he's mine!"

Shama's thoughts lingered on their conversation. She felt grateful for Amaan's wisdom and gentleness. His words had eased her concerns, reminding her that their families' acceptance would come with time.

As they drove away from the beach, the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the city.

"Where do you want to go for dinner?" Amaan asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

Shama thought for a moment. "Somewhere quiet, please. I'm not in the mood for crowds."

Amaan nodded. "I know just the place."

He took her to a cozy Italian restaurant, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. Over a delicious dinner, they talked about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing effortlessly.

As they finished their meal, Amaan reached across the table, taking Shama's hand in his. "My love for you just keeps getting deeper day by day," he said, his voice low and sincere.

Shama's heart skipped a beat. "I’m the lucky one darling! You have no idea!."

Their eyes locked, the connection between them palpable.

Amaan gazed into Shama's eyes, his heart swelling with love. Two years into their marriage, and he still couldn't believe she was his. Her kindness, compassion, and unwavering faith captivated him.

As they walked out of the restaurant, hand in hand, Amaan reflected on their journey. They'd faced challenges like any other regular couple, but their faith came just in time between them strengthening their love and commitment to each other.

He slid into the driver's seat, as he started the engine, he glanced at her, smiling.

"What are you thinking?" Shama asked, noticing his gaze.

"Just grateful for you," Amaan replied, his voice filled with emotion.

Shama's eyes softened. "Indeed, it is only Allah who has beautified this miskeenah in your eyes and I’m ever so grateful to Him for this blessing."

Their drive home was filled with comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional laughter and conversation.

As they stepped inside their home, Amaan's arm remained wrapped around Shama's shoulders, his warmth and presence comforting. They moved in sync, their routine familiar and soothing.

Upstairs, they prepared for bed, their movements quiet and peaceful. Shama slipped into a soft pajama set, while Amaan changed into comfortable clothes.

As they settled into bed, Amaan pulled Shama close, planting a kiss on her forehead. Their eyes drifted shut, the darkness enveloping them.

Hours later, Amaan gently shook Shama awake. "Tahajjud time, my love," he whispered, his voice soft.

Shama rubbed her eyes, yawning. "Okay."

They performed their ablutions and settled on the prayer mat, side by side. The quiet night air filled with their whispered supplications.

As they finished their prayer, Shama's thoughts drifted to their journey, to the moments that had brought them here.

Amaan's voice brought her back. "Make dua, Shama. Allah The Most High descends to the lowest heaven during this time and listens to His slaves."

Shama's eyes closed, her heart pouring out in dua.

And then, she was transported back...

To the day they first met...

To the laughter, the arguments, and the moments that changed everything...