I looked out of the window, anxiety creeping up my stomach like a slow snake. I nearly jump out of my sweaty skin everytime the phone rang. My hands were still shaking from last nights “activities”. My first ‘trip’ and I couldn’t handle it? Man up I reprimanded myself annoyed.
We were at our Post Matric party, not the lame “Debs” but the Real party the one that rocked later on that night when you feel like a bird about to fly across vast wide plains of freedom. Ha Ha…yeah right.
I hid the slight awkwardness I felt in the room smogged up by weed and crack by plastering an “I’m so cool, I got this” smile on my face like I was a the pope of dope. The thumping music reverberated throughout the house, shaking the walls with its sickening doof doof, at that time I thought it was cool. Sad me.
“Hey bro, try this, you’ll fly kasam. Just once.”Samir handed me a tray with a powdery line, giggling like he lost his marbles. Which he actually had,thinking of it.
Looking back why did I not have the guts to say no firmly and get the hell out of there? Why did I actually not stay away from the party totally? We think we’re so strong.Where there’s a fire burning, you going to get some smoke clinging to you. Let’s not fool ourselves otherwise. What is Taqwa? It is staying away from where your Maula should not see you where you shouldn’t be.
I looked over at Yusuf my bra. He made a slashing motion against his neck. I weakly found myself saying; Nah thanks I’m cool Sam. After a few more “just once” I gave in.
A mother sized headache greeted me when I awoke,sprawled on the floor. There was a couple next to me making out shamelessly in a full room. She wasn’t even his girl.Friends with benefits I guessed. A small group of girls huddled in a corner, snorting coke and laughing hysterically. The same girls who acted like Gino Ginellis. Hanifa, the one with the crooked nose saw me awake and nasal’d;
Hey Nabeel, you look like the dogs breakfast
Shut up Pinocchio , you look like the wicked witch of the west, why don’t you use your nose to hang clothes on. I was witty neh? Not.
She shot me a dirty look and turned back to her fellow witches.She was just rude because I shut her down when she made a move on me.Little did I know then, I would encounter Hanifa again in later years under very different circumstances.
They had put their delicate toes in a very murky pool of destruction for the first time that night. Some would lose their chastity that night, some would get high and some would get drunk but by the time we all got home the next day, we all sobered up and looked scrubbed…of our black marks of guilt. No trace. But within the heart a roaring volcano of sin and the ripping apart of a beautiful youth.
PARENTS,WAKE UP! (do parents of teens read blogs?)When your innocent girl who just finished her matric or your son who bicharo ,was so stressed during his finals, is saying he/she is sleeping over at a friends house the night of the matric party? 99% of the time. They aren’t. Open your daughters overnight bag, why does she have those skimpy clothes inside? Why can’t your boy come home early? And oh no, a house party isn’t always innocent. Believe me. I was at one that night.
A faint mosquito noise cuts through the buzz in my head, my phone’s beeping non stop with text messages from my Mum and Sabiha. Sabiha the pretty hazel eyed girl I’d been making a play for.Little vixen finally decides to acknowledge me. Why was I so disrespectful of females? Looking back I shudder at the teen me. The texts keep coming and I can’t deal , the next thing I hurl all over myself.
Yusuuuuf!! Yusuuuf !!Haandsome!!!
Yes that was our nick for him because , how do I put this diplomatically ? Far from handsome as can be. His face was covered in pimples till you could hardly see skin and he had a bad overbite but Yusuf being Yus, never felt bad, or so we taught.
You idiot. Yusuf says as if he’s complimenting me. He’s driving me home while I retch painfully in the back and for some reason start singing off key.
Handsome had left the party once it started getting hectic. I mistakenly called 5 people including my Dada’s sister before managing to get to his name on my phone. That’s how spiked I was.
Shut up again. You shouldn’t have let them pressure you. Why so weak man? Get up now,we’re almost at your house. Hey why are there so many cars at your house at 3am?
Oh Shite! I’m going to get caught.
But no one was interested in me. For now. There was someone being carried out in a stretcher to the foreboding looking ambulance.
The phone rang again. Nabeel,come to the hospital now! Nana wants to speak to you.
An hour later I’m sitting there with Nana’s frail hands in my young ones.
Nabeel, he croaks.
I’ve never asked you for anything beta but tonight I will, Promise me you will become an Alim.
All these years later, I think of how my head shook in agreement to something I had never envisioned for myself, even though I wanted to scream nooooo, don’t ruin my life!!!.
My years in a Darul Uloom were happy, sad, good ,bad, mind freeeing,heart shattering ,brilliant, dark, awesome but one thing it never ever was for a single moment, was ,boring.