Un-Shattering Happiness: Chapter 1

Blurb link: https://my313world.blogspot.com/2020/07/un-shattering-happiness.html

     Oh no, she thought as she rushed out of her room. She didn’t want to be late for DinnerTime, especially tonight. She had something very important to discuss and DinnerTime was the only time her father would have a meal with the family. She ran past the numerous empty rooms on her way. They were a family of four members but lived in a huge mansion. She reached the dinning hall. She stood at the door for a few seconds, catching her breath and fixing her multi-colored hair. Then, she opened the doors and stepped in, closing the door behind her. 

     “Wow,” blurted her brother as soon as he saw her.

     “What?”

     “For the first time in forever, you are on time,” he laughed. 

     Remedios smiled and took a seat opposite to him. Her mother sat ninety degrees angle to her right. She looked at her mother, to greet her but before she could say anything she saw the disapproving look in her mother’s eyes, so she averted her gaze, turned her head down, looked at the table’s surface and sat in silence. After a few minutes of deafening silence, her father entered the hall. 

    "It was a long and tiring day," he sighed as he took his seat at the huge silver polished rectangular table. A crystal chandelier from the 20th century hung above the table, showering diamond light. "So, how was everyone's day?" he said after having a glass of water. "Mine was the same as usual," he continued as he always did. 

     Maids brought in veal orloff, roasted pigeon, naan, rice with kofta (meatballs) and corn, nihari, pea soup, avocado shrimp salad, blackberry lime fruit salad and Russian salad. Their chefs were International.

     "I won in Chess today," said Nicholas Argon as he put Russian salad at the corner of his plate.

      "Are you sure your teacher wasn't feeling sorry for you?" asked Argon, teasing.

      "I won fair and square!" replied Nicholas, a faint hint of anger lurking in his voice.

      "Ah-then it is time to change your teacher," replied Argon over the clattering of spoons. "Why, what's the use of a teacher who lost to his student," he added after seeing Nicholas's confused face. "And what about you, Remedios?" he concentrated towards his daughter now, who was sitting ninety degrees to his right. "Reading literature ?" he asked, making literature sound as something uncivilized.

     Remedios parted her lips but her mother answered for her.

     "She's been spending time inviting over her pauper friends," said her mother, adding all the spices she could.

      "Is this true, Remedios?" said Argon, putting avocado shrimp salad at the center of his plate.

     "One of these days they'll turn her into a nun or worse...God forbid!" interjected her mother dramatically.

     "Oh yes, that, I will," replied Argon, who was now putting rice kofta around his Salad.

     

     Argon Pothemus was a man of Power. Remedios was aware that he wouldn't ask her to stop meeting her friends. He would simply erase their entrance or he would just erase their existences! Remedios peeked a side glance at her mother, who looked satisfied with her husband's answer. This was going to be harder than she thought. What if her father raised his hand on her? There were risks to the topic she was going to discuss tonight. While the rest of the family chattered away, she ate in silence. She had never been good at public speaking. And public speaking meant interacting with strangers. That's the kind of relationship she had with her parents. The phobia of public speaking also meant small talk. She had been given the choice of attending prestigious schools where children of Kings, Ministers and Money attended. But she couldn't bear that kind of load. All the rich ladies ever talked about was food and fashion. Oh, but what about those 'pauper' friends of hers? She met them at her public school library, where every kind of person went. 

     

     One rainy day when she hadn't brought an umbrella and her parents hadn't bothered to send a ride to school, she sat on a single gray colored sunk-in sofa and started to read the first page of "Three Daughters Of Eve".

     "Is that Elif Shafak's?!" whisper-cried a female voice excitedly.

     Remedios had looked up and saw a girl standing, head covered, weird happiness engulfing her face.

     "Yeah," Remedios had mouthed, nodding.

     "I'm a big fan of hers!" whisper-cried the girl again and then sat on the sofa next to Remedios.

     Remedios had shifted uncomfortably, obviously not used to stranger presence. She had smiled sincerely. The two girls had then chatted about Elif Shafak's work. Soon the rain had stopped pouring and so Remedios set-up another meet-up with the girl and left. Slowly the girl began to bring her friends along as well and Remedios started to open up to them. She had been surprised when none of the girls objected her appearance (she wore a knee length pink shirt and a pair of jeans, her multi-dyed hair resting on her shoulders). By experience, she knew that standing out wasn't respected in her society and yet these head covered girls had not show any sign of disapproval. They didn’t care that was the President’s daughter. They had treated her the way they treated each other. She started to invite them at her mansion. She mixed with these girls more than those posh, elegant ladies that her mum would choose for her. The arranged friends knew nothing except the latest trends and if Goddesses rule better than Gods. Remedios had slowly started to take interest in the head covered girls' beliefs. Why did they cover their hair and wear black gowns? She was good at languages so one of the girls named Bushra taught her Godly Arabic which Bushra referred to as "Quranic Arabic". Remedios was awed by the structure of the Book. It's language, It's Structure. Truly unique! There were wonders in it. About Paradise and Hell, about Angels and Satan, about celebretic Prophets and Messengers, about Allah, about a lot of stuff!

     It was DiscussionTime. The servants had cleared the table and the maids now brought in pineapple souffle, apple tart, blueberry pie, strawberry cheesecake, macarons, chocolate biscuits, cotton candy ice-cream, karachi halwa, choco salami and ashure. The servants brought in red wine, clarent, vodka, highball, fresh orange juice, strawberry juice and water. That wasn’t a lot because DiscussionTime took most of the night to come to an end. Mostly by midnight. Remedios looked at her wristwatch. It read 9pm. Looking at the wall clock directly in front of her was of no use. In fact, all the clocks in the Argon Mansion were useless. They all gave wrong timings. Not because the cells were dying out but because those were the times the clocks were set to. Right now, at the Argon Mansion, it was 7pm. A maid placed the AuthorityHammer to Remedios's right and then left the dining room, closing the door softly behind her. Remedios Hammered the table once and everyone looked attentively at her. For once her mother didn't interrupt her.

      "We're one of the most influential families in this Country. We look down on the poor, Defy God and even think of ourselves as Gods," she started.

     "Are we learning family history tonight?" joked her brother Nicholas.

      "We're worthless pieces of dirt and drops of fluids. So why do we act so High and Mighty against our own race?" she asked, ignoring her brother's comment.    

     "Because...we're made of pure elements. Remember? We're Gods! Mortal Gods! We've the Power of Life and Death for as long as we live," answered her mum in a matter-of-fact way.

     Remedios couldn't bare to spend another second with this ignorant company.

     "Darling, you live a life of Comfort and Luxury. But your wish is our command. You just have to spell it," said her dad, concerned.

      "Tell him to buy you America," added Nicholas, laughing.

     "I want Happiness. But you can't buy me Happiness. Happiness is so absurd...so shattering. There you've the latest model of Iphone. The Limited Happiness. And then snap! You see your friend's Designer Handbag. And you want one better than that one. Mum. Dad. Nicholas. We're running out of time. We're all drowning in Loss," Remedios tried to explain, ignoring Nicholas's lame joke.

      "Your low-class friends have drip-fed you nonsense religious things. We named you Remedios because you are the Music of our Lives. But look at you now. You've grown up and...are these some LATEST SIGNS OF PUBERTY? Nicholas, did the same happen to you too?" cried her mum, her tone a mixture of anger and anguish.

     Nicholas kept quiet. Remedios breathed inwards. Patience. She needed Patience.

      "Imagine, you see a building or a book. You would wonder who's the architect or the author. Yes? So how could you just say it's some unknown power when you look at the snow, the sky, the stars?"

     Everyone was stunned to silence.

     "This soufflé is tasty," Nicholas broke the silence.

     Remedios was now convinced that if her mum couldn't understand that the Living came from the Living and not the Non-Living then her politician of a father wouldn't understand that the Big Bang Theory is just a bunch of baloney.

      "I don't want to be a mortal God anymore. I want to be a grateful human to the Immortal God who deserves worship the most, unlike things created by Him!" she announced bravely.

     Her mother cried. Highball poured out of Nicholas's mouth.

     "Once you leave, you're no more one of us," warned her dad.

     Remedios smiled. She stood up and made her way to the doors.

      “Remedios!” her mother banged the table. “Come back and sit down!”

     “Can I still stay here while practicing my new religion?”

      “Absolutely not!” roared her father.

     Remedios opened the door.

     "By the way, it's 10 o'clock outside your little world," she said, looking at the mortal Gods evenly and then left before her father could change his mind.

     Remedios walked straight to the gates and left the property. She knew where to go. Bushra and the other girls had shown her the way to the mosque which was attended 24/7 by a small group of men and women in separate rooms. She also knew that her father won't let her live peacefully in this Country. He liked to call it Zephania. Remedios made a mental note to try to find out the history of this Country. For generations her family had burnt libraries just like the British had done to the rest of the world. Her mother had proudly told her The Pothemus Reign Stories. Was her mother always cruel? Was she so heartless to speak of human butchering so light heartedly? She knew a bit of her mother’s side. Her mother's father had mysteriously died. So her brother had taken over the family. Her mother was the Prime Minister’s week. Her family, the Sileyreedas, had always been at war with the Pothemuses. After Remedios's maternal grandfather’s mysterious death, Argon tried to take over the Sileyreeda's properties. But her maternal uncle had other plans. Her mother often told her how she had been the object of peace to Zephania.

      "I offer you Jade. If not, well, you will be at loss," her mum's brother had said. Funny how Jade's brother had made the threat under pressure. Funny how Jade had so happily accepted her fate.

     

     Remedios reached the mosque. It was beautiful. She took off her cowboy boots and walked in. She looked around. She saw a female sitting on a chair, reading something. There were many other females scattered in the room. Some were prostrating themselves to the wall, in the direction of Mecca. Others were reading the Qura'an. Remedios chose the lady sitting on the chair for guidance.      

     "Assa..Assalam..u…Alaik…Alaik…Alaikum," she said, stuttering.

     The lady raised her head. She had astonishingly blue eyes.

     "Walaikumussalam. How may I help you?" she responded, a trace of Turkish accent in her voice.

     Remedios took a deep breath.

     "I've come to accept Islam. My friends from school told me that a public place is the best place to profess Islam."

     The lady stood up from her chair and smiled at Remedios. She picked up her bad and unzipped it, taking out a black scarf from it. She put it on Remedios’ head, covering her hair.

     "Attention ladies," she said softly. "A new Sister, a new Muslim will be joining our community today."

     Remedios smiled shyly.      

     "AssalamuAlaikum...name's Remedios...Remedios Argon," she added.

     "Walaikumussalam," chorused the ladies.

     "My name is Sumaiya," said the lady standing next to her. Remedios nodded. The name sounded very Indian and kind of royal too. "I'll take you to the Imaam. He is a man of authority in the mosque."

     Remedios nodded. Coincidentally, Sumaiya was the Imaam's wife. So, she dialed his number on her ancient nokia phone and called him. She was talking in a mixture of Turkish and Arabic. After a while, she clicked the phone and beamed with happiness. 

     "Come. We are going to the other male prayer room of the mosque," said Sumaiya and walked out of the room followed by Remedios and a few more ladies.

    The Imaam greeted them at the door. A few males sat in the front row, worshipping Allah. The Imaam called Remedios to the 'stage' of the room. Sumaiya stood next to Remedios.

      "Repeat after me: La ila ha illallah, Muhammad-urr- Rasulullah." said the Imaam, gently. 

     Remedios repeated the words.

     "Do you understand the words, Remedios?"

     "Yes. I accept that there's no god but Allah and Muhammad (SAW) is the Prophet of Allah."

     Sumaiya nodded in appreciation.

     "Now repeat after me. Ash-hadu anna la illaha illa Allah wa ash-hadu anna Muhammadan Rasulul Allah." said the Imaam.

     Remedios repeated the words. 

     "Do you understand the words, Remedios?" 

     "Yes. I bear witness that no one deserves to be worshipped except Allah and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah."

     The Imaam smiled.

     "Allah-u-Akbar! Allah-u-Akbar!" shouted everyone merrily, including herself. "Allah is the Greatest! Allah is the Greatest!"

     She suddenly wanted to do everything right away. Visit the House of Allah in Mecca and the City of the Prophet(SAW) in Madinah. Ding-dong, ding-dong, Reality drove her back. She suddenly realized that she has no place to return to. Gathering up courage, she turned to the ladies.

     “I've a little situation here," Remedios started, feeling a little embarrassed. "I don't have a place to go back to. My father said not come back."

     She was answered by silence. Of coarse, who would take in the President's daughter? And why would they? Her father would have them removed from existence.    

     "You can stay with me. But, I'm leaving the Country in a few days. Would you be fine coming along?" said one of the ladies in the gathering, standing up. She was wearing a black baggy gown and a black scarf. She was dark toned. She looked Pakistani...Bangali...    

     "I'm Srilankan," she smiled as if reading her mind.    

     "Sure. But I've got a problem. I left all my stuff at...home," a worried look on her face.

     The lady giggled. "You won't be needing that. My name is Maira Qayyoom. Believe me, if you are with me, you won't be needing things such as certificates, passports, titles...just your name and your achievements are fine. Besides, we're going to Oman. Argon means nothing to them. Their Sultan is powerful enough to toss off Argon Pothemus - no offense - never liked him."

     "None taken. So like, do I change my name?" asked Remedios, wondering if Music was Haram(Forbidden) in Islam. She did not want to be Haram to the Muslim Community.

      "It's your choice," Maira smiled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. She could've been 28 or at the most 30.

     "We'll discuss the rest when we get home. It's getting late. 11 o’clock,” she said, looking at the clock wall.

      "Yeah," replied Remedios. 

     She was thinking what to name herself. Something Arabic! Something pretty and meaningful. She returned the scarf to Sumaiya but Sumaiya smiled and let her keep it.

     "Allah-Hafiz," said everyone at the mosque as Maira and Remedios made their way to the door.

     "Allah-Hafiz," said Maira and Remedios in unison.

     What about Ayesha? Or Zainab? Or Mariam? Or Sadia? There were so many names to choose from! And then she knew.

     "Hawwa," she whispered.

     "Hawwa what?" said Maira, pressing the button on her car key.

     "Hawwa Argon," she beamed.

     "Hawwa...." Maira repeated, nodding. "First Lady on Earth. Eve is what the others call her." Maira opened the front door of her car. A 1932 Plymouth. "Get in the car. Welcome, Hawwa Argon," said Maira, her voice kind and serene.