I told a few people that I’m working on two long short stories. I know the name doesn’t make sense, it would be easier saying a novel but I tend to give up on novels and I enjoy writing short stories more. So I’m basically tricking my mind to believe that they’re actually short stories. Weird but it works. Anywayz ’someone’ has been pestering me to give them a sneak peek of the stories so… The following post is a sneak peak of one of the stories I’m working on (the other one is a lot better which is why I’m not showing it to anyone until I’m done), the beginning of this one isn’t that strong and I’ll be going back to it but right now I just want to focus on finishing the entire story before editing. Thus is a totally unedited peice and you must be aware that it is not final (I will be going back to edit this)
Enjoy it, hate it, I don’t really care 
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He read the letter over again for the third time in five minutes. A slight grin was growing on his face. He had been accepted.
“Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah.” he silently thanked Allah. Nuradeen had applied to several universities, but he had been secretly hoping to be accepted into the Portland State University. The main reason for favoring that one had been a hope to be studying with his childhood friend and cousin, Muhammed. They had been close friends since elementary school and throughout their middle school years. It was in the beginning of high school that Muhammed’s family moved to Portland, Oregon. Muhammed’s father had decided to be close to his parents who were slowly aging. Despite the fact that the two cousins were on opposite coasts, they had kept in close contact.
“Hello?” Nuradeen heard his cousin’s voice on the other end of the phone.
“Assalamu Alaykum,” He greeted him.
“Wa Alaykum Assalaam!”
“Man, Allah really accepted my Dua’s this time.” The happiness was evident in Nuradeen’s voice.
“That’s great.” Muhammed paused. “Wait, what was your Dua for?” he asked sheepishly.
Nuradeen chuckled. “I was accepted into PSU.” He replied.
“No kidding! But their response was pretty late, don’t you think? The new term starts in less than a month. You’re going to have a lot to do.”
“I know, but Alhamdulillah.”
“When did you get the letter?”
“Just an hour ago. I actually haven’t told my parents yet.”
“You haven’t?”
“No, they’re visiting some friends.”
“Oh. Well I’m about to go into the masjid for Duhr.”
“Ok, Assalamu Alaykum.”
“Wa Alaykum Assalaam.”
|-|2|-|
The last few weeks have been exhausting. Although his mother had been doing most of the preparations for him, Nuradeen was tired from the amount of time and effort he had spent in getting everything done, from paperwork, to buying necessities and buying small gifts for his little cousins and not to mention the other dozen things he had had on his list.
“Have a safe trip.” His friend called behind him. Nuradeen turned to wave goodbye before standing in line to get through security. After his bags were checked, he took the long walk to his gate. He had asked his friend, Salman to drive him to the airport. Of course he had seen his family before leaving but he hadn’t wanted to ask them to take him to the airport. He knew that they would make a big scene, especially his mother. Nuradeen smiled remembering how much she had helped him throughout his life. He found himself glancing at his ticket again making sure the number he repeated in his mind was really the correct one. His gate was one of the furthest gates to the rear. G17-B. Letting out an exasperated sigh he continued to walk and readjusted the strap of the back-pack that he was carrying while pulling his luggage behind him.
When the time came for him to board the plane, he found his seat and placed his bags in the overhead compartment. He noticed how full the airplane was and wondered how it could carry so many people. Ignoring this, he seated himself between two men. His neighbor on his right, who couldn’t have been any older than himself had placed some earphones on and was listening to some songs. Nuradeen could hear the slight sound of the metallic clashes of the drums and it slightly annoyed him, but he ignored it. He glanced at the man on his left. He seemed to be in his early thirties and had brought four novels to read. He smiled at Nuradeen who returned the friendly gesture.
Nuradeen proceeded to taking out his pocket Quran that he usually carried around. He opened to the last place he memorized and started to read softly to himself, while at the same time trying not to bother those two who were sitting next to him. His goal had been to finish his Hifdh by the end of high school but he had been overwhelmed with his studies that he hadn’t found enough time to accomplish his goal.
“What are you doing?” Nuradeen turned to the man on his left. Was he talking to him?
“Excuse me?”
“I asked what you were doing. You seem to be trying to memorize whatever you’re reading.” The man smiled again.
“Oh, yeah… I figured I could take the extra time that I have to memorize.” Nuradeen answered.
“Is it for an educational purpose?” He moved his head to get a better look.
“You can call it that.”
“What language is it in?” He asked.
“Arabic. It’s called the Quran.”
“Quran?” the man pronounced it as Koraan emphasizing the last syllable.
“Nah, it’s Qur-aan.” Nuradeen corrected hi m politely. “It’s the last book that was sent from Allah.” He explained.
“Allah?”
“Allah is what we call God in Arabic.”
“Oh, I see.” The man smiled knowingly. “So, it’s a holy book?”
“Yes.”
“Kind of like the bible?”
“Yes, it’s somewhat like the bible, except the Quran was and is never altered in any way. Unlike the Bible, the Quran is in its original form. It was revealed to the Prophet Muhammed who taught it to his companions. A few years later it was compiled into book form. And if you compare this copy to ones that were made hundreds of years ago, you’ll notice that they are exactly the same.”
“I see. But you said it is never altered. What if someone tried to add or remove from it?”The man asked again.
“Well you see, Muslims everywhere memorize the Quran by heart. If anyone tried to add or remove anything, I’m sure more than one person will notice. Also, Allah promised that he would preserve his book and protect it from any changes.”
Nuradeen spent the rest of his flight answering the man’s questions. After a while, he noticed the boy on his left had removed his earphones to quietly listen in on their conversation.
“Well, I really enjoyed speaking with you.” The man held out his hand when they had gotten off the plane.
“Same here.” Nuradeen smiled as he shook his hand.
“I don’t think I got your name?”
“Nuradeen.”
“Nuradeen?” He repeated the name slowly trying to say it correctly.
“Yep, means the light of the religion in Arabic.” He grinned.
“I’m Carl. I have no idea what it means, but it was nice meeting you Nuradeen.”
“Nice meeting you too.” Nuradeen replied as they parted to retrieve their bags.
|-|3|-|
“Where is he?” Nuradeen thought out loud to himself. He had agreed with his cousin to meet at the entrance of the airport at 4 in the afternoon but Muhammed was late. He leaned lazily against the wall as he waited. He turned to watch people go in and out of the airport.
“Nur!” he heard someone shout. Turning around he saw Muhammed waving to him.
“Assalamu Alaykum!” He grinned as he walked towards his cousin.
“Wa Alaykum Assalaam.” Muhammed gave his cousin a quick welcoming embrace. “Welcome to Portland also known as PDX.” He brought his hand up to his head then brought it back down to his side like a soldier.
“You sound like a tour guide.” Nuradeen joked as he placed his bags in the trunk of his cousin’s car. “You didn’t tell me that you got a car?” He remarked as he sat down in the passenger seat.
“You never asked.” Muhammed retorted as he pulled out of the pickup area.
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Any pointers/suggestions/critiques are very much welcome. And I’m aware that I haven’t been posting much on Pen Marks (or any other blog) I’m just trying to give full focus on my finals and inshallah I’ll be back to posting regularly after they’re over (by the third week of June)
Question to be considered is:
I settled deeper into my black sweater, pulling my hood over my face, to hide it. I was in the local coffee shop, watching the people come and go, letting the grief hold unto me relentlessly.
It was a car. Inside it was a careless boy, heavily intoxicated. He had fallen asleep at the wheel.
I love April, mostly because of the rain 
When Maha died five years ago, her three sons mourned her death. Yusuf, who was six, cried himself to sleep for many months. Her eldest son, Khalid, would comfort him whilst wiping away his own tears. But it had been the hardest on Omar, who had been in the car with Maha during the accident. When Khalid and his father went to the cemetery to bury her, he had tagged along. To say goodbye, he told them.
I have a term project due this Monday and the teacher told us we could present the project as a Word document, a booklet form, or as a scrapbook. I have three more days to finish it – well she gave us the project a month ago and told us to get started but I procrastinated till the last week lol.
