Congrats! Congrats!! Congrats!!!
Thank God we made it to front page cos u really worth it. I will be expecting my kulikuli nd sobo o..........nd also updates......lolz

Shuq29: Congrats! Congrats!! Congrats!!!
Thank God we made it to front page cos u really worth it. I will be expecting my kulikuli nd sobo o..........nd also updates......lolz

wit garri ijebu

iamteaser: No update today cos the frontpage syndrome kicked in. It's totally normal:-)

Its nt the frontpage syndrome .....I explained what happened nau.

U r making me to type faster so that I will be able to update today

Shuq29: Congrats! Congrats!! Congrats!!!
Thank God we made it to front page cos u really worth it. I will be expecting my kulikuli nd sobo o..........nd also updates......lolz

Its all gone d guests were many.

underage:

I Neva ccomplained wen it didn't reach fp. Bt u know d comments means so much to a writer and u guys know am trying sha .

And tomorrow's update will be very very very long and mayb if I finish typing it again, I will post tonight.
*Thanks*

.
Undage tak ur tym, dnt stres ursef at al. Al i knw is dat u always deliver wen eva u r chanced.... If u cnt update dis nite, no p i{we} wil wait patiently. #teamwaitpatiently#

underage:

Its all gone d guests were many.

Wat? Dont give me dat abeg if u no want make i come carry ur breakfast 2mao o

Raymonbell:

wit garri ijebu

Lolz

SPLENDIDFLOZZY: .
Undage tak ur tym, dnt stres ursef at al. Al i knw is dat u always deliver wen eva u r chanced.... If u cnt update dis nite, no p i{we} wil wait patiently. #teamwaitpatiently#

Thnx dear. Thats a relief

I can't believe I read ds story from d beginning til ds point just today,nd definately ds story made my day. God bless the brain behind ds story,though u allowed me burn my dinner. Fingers crossed for d remaining updates,best story ever.
.

deebarbie: I can't believe I read ds story from d beginning til ds point just today,nd definately ds story made my day. God bless the brain behind ds story,though u allowed me burn my dinner. Fingers crossed for d remaining updates,best story ever.
.

deebarbie: I can't believe I read ds story from d beginning til ds point just today,nd definately ds story made my day. God bless the brain behind ds story,though u allowed me burn my dinner. Fingers crossed for d remaining updates,best story ever.
.

pipu nd bad mouths sha.....writing aint easy ho....wah is der nt 2 undastand abt dis

underage: 7th
December, 2010
Karachi, Pakistan
5:00pm

I still don't believe that I've lost her forever.

Perhaps I didn't deserve her. She was such a nice lady, such a wonderful
female. I know that I can find many girls in this world, even more
beautiful and more attractive than she was. But no girl can fit into
that specific portion of my heart that has been reserved only for her
now.

What shall I call her?

Agressive? Absolutely not. She was so patient, so calm.

Hard and strict? Never. She was so flexible, so adaptable, very
comprimising too.

Rude and proud? No way. She was modest, friendly, and sympathetic.

Extremist? Impossible. She sure knew her boundaries and limits.

No, there's nothing I can call her. I can't give her a single, sole
name.

She was truly wonderful, capable of doing miraculous wonders.

She understood me. I don't think that anyone could ever understand me
like the way she did. She made me realize myself, arranging my life's
books neatly into this world's shelf. It's only because of her that I am
who I am.

I will not say that she was perfect but she was the best one I ever
could have hoped for, not only because she had a tremendous amount of
unconditional love, but because she shaped who I am today, my qualities
and characteristics. She was the one who made me beautiful in every
sense. The kind you don't see much anymore. She was simple but yet so
mysterious. She was so familiar but ah, at the same time, so strange
too.

In the paths of life, you find faces you can't forget ever, no matter
how much you try. Then how can I forget that fairy-face which made me
accustomed to the reality of life? Those lake-deep eyes which, when low,
used to bring night and when high, were the source of daylight.

She was the poetry of a born poet. Flowers needed her to grow; autumn
required her to become spring.

She was definitely a dream girl, a beautiful scene of my sleep. But she
was a reality too. A reality, which creates history. A reality, you
can't imagine your life without. She was so alive. One, who could give
you life in one glance. There was just nothing else like her at all. It
was her attitude toward life that made her uniquely captivating. She had
a quick intelligence and a lively curiosity about anything she happened
to encounter.

And then.........she was gone when I needed her the most. She came and
left. But she didn't leave alone; she had my life too.

I'll never understand one thing. Why those times pass so quickly when
you're happy? And why those times seem to stay forever when you're sad?

Did I love her?

Sis good morning,I have been stalking here for d update,I really hope its ready. How is my friend? My greetings.

Sry dear u r doing a wonderful job...u r a very good writer....

underage: So many views without commenting . You guys are really discouraging me. Its not fair

"Silent Lover"What a Great story iz it,can't belive i read it all.so waiting for ur update

Good morning beautiful pple . Ur update is nearly ready and will be hear in an hour or so

All those new pple around here, u r highly welcome. I hope Oga Mynd dey take gud care of u.
Thanks all for being here. Luv u all

underage: Good morning beautiful pple . Ur update is nearly ready and will be hear in an hour or so

All those new pple around here, u r highly welcome. I hope Oga Mynd dey take gud care of u.
Thanks all for being here. Luv u all

.
Waitin

SPLENDIDFLOZZY: .
Waitin

ur lips is nt bad

“Deeba! Oh my God, it’s so hot in Karachi these days. It’s already forty degrees today, how could you wear an Abaya in such a hot weather?” Sheeba almost screamed in shock.
Her sister smiled and replied, "Ah yes, but the fires of Hell are hotter still!"
“Your philosophy is always out of my mind.” Sheeba shrugged her shoulders.
“I wonder if you have one.” Deeba smiled again and slowly, deliberately, she put her arms inside the sleeves of light gray Abaaya of fine silk. Turning towards the dressing table mirror, she gave herself a final look and her lips twisted to exclaim a fine ‘Wow’ on herself. With black scarf, her gray Abaaya produced a wonderful contrasting effect, creating a grace and powerful magnetism around her.
“Deeba. Are you crazy or something?”
“Why do you ask so?”
“Come on. We are going to a birthday party. Take this coat and scarf off, NOW!” Sheeba said, frustrated.
“So, you think Hijaab should be reserved only for religious gatherings, right?”
“Of course, dressing should be appropriate according to the occasion and atmosphere. You don’t need to wear your covering in a function that is purely non-religious.” Sheeba said firmly.
Deeba sighed and looked at her sister for a second.
She felt like it was not her sister speaking; it was ‘devil’ speaking inside her dear sister. Yes, he sure was a Satan, who was trying cleverly to change her positive thinking in a glamorized way.
“Hey where are you?” Sheeba shook her hand in front of her eyes. “Come on sister. Don’t be an extremist. Okay we’re Muslims and everything but one should keep a balance between the world and religion.”
“Oh My God.” Deeba thought, stunned. That’s what Miss. Hijaab had told her in the school, in her very first class.
How could she forget those words, which had brought a new life in her?
“When the devil sees that all of his cruel, evil tactics had no use finally, he then attacks through his worst weapon. He makes you feel that you’re already religious and follows all the basics, but you should not go more into the religion and shouldn’t be an extremist. Oh yes, he sure tells you to keep a balance between the ‘world’ and your ‘faith. It is in fact a balance, but not between your world and the religion but it’s a balance between God and devil, which of course has no grounds at all. He wants you to place one of your feet in hell and the other one in the heaven at the same time. That’s his balance and that’s what being moderate means according to the evil devil.”
“Why don’t you stop saying the same thing again and again?” Deeba said to her younger sister.

Sheeba looked at her for a long moment, and then sighing she shrugged her shoulders. “You’ve become an extremist Deeba, a religious fanatic to an abnormal extent.”
“Wow,” Deeba couldn‟t help herself laughing on her remark. “When we are with the rest of the world in everything they do, they say we’re normal but as soon as we start following our Allah, everyone calls us an ‘extremist’ or an ‘abnormal’ person.”
“OK.” Sheeba gave her a determined look. “Do whatever you like.”
“That’s what I’m doing.” Today, Deeba’s smile was just as charming as she herself was. “I was wondering if you could follow the orders of our dear Prophet and Quran.” Deeba added in a low, impressive tone. “You’d look wonderful in Hijaab you know.”
Shocked, Sheeba stared at her for few seconds, and then began to laugh uncontrollably.
“Did I say something funny?”
“You can’t be serious. Are you?”
“Of course, I am.”
For an instant, Sheeba looked at her elder sister, trying to judge if she was really serious or not, but the sober expression on Deeba‟s face made her think twice about her statement.
“I just can’t do it.” She stated expressionlessly. “And you know that very well.”
“You’re very sure of yourself in disobeying your Allah and Prophet’s orders. Aren’t you?” Deeba asked, clearly disappointed, feeling sorry for her beloved sister.
“Well, our Allah and our holy prophet have ordered us for so many other things as well. Do we follow them all?” Sheeba asked sceptically.
“Wow, what a logic.” Now, it was Deeba’s turn to laugh. “Why don’t we stop following our religion at
all? That would be the best solution. No restrictions, no limitations, no hard and fast rules to follow upon.”
“Now.” Sheeba shifted her position on the sofa uncomfortably. “I didn’t say that.”
“We can at least try to adopt easy things first. If we can’t change the society, we can at least
change ourselves on individual level. Can’t we?”
Sheeba didn’t answer this time; she was lost in her deep thoughts.
“Just suppose for an instant, your dear Prophet, whom you respect you so much, is telling you, he is in front of you!” Deeba got closer to her sister. “Did you listen? He is here, asking you that why don't you obey his simple and plain order? Hmm?"
"Stop it, Deeba, it’s enough, " She hid her face in her hands, almost crying. “I...I will cry."



"Allah gave us so much, everything, parents, home, siblings, money, car everything. And yet what do we give Him in return?" Slowly, gently she ran her fingers through Sheeba’s soft hair.
"What's the use of us being Muslims then, if we can't put a simple piece of clothing around our head and body for Him?” Deeba looked deeply into her younger sister’s eyes, trying to search some traces of the effects of her words. “Is this our Islam? Do we love Him?”
"Yes I...I love Him." Sheeba said aloud. “I love my Allah.”
"Then why do you do the opposite?" Her smile broadened into something almost genuine.
“Funny it is.” Deeba laughed softly. “We believe in God…but don’t believe in what He says.”
She grinned and then added. “Just like, everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.”
“Don’t ever think Sheeba, that I am forcing you to do something you don’t want to. Such things should come by heart and naturally.” She caressed her sister’s face and brought a tissue to wipe the tears off.
“If you mind, I won’t say anything again on the topic. But I love you very much, and can’t see you burning yourself in the devilish fire of your materialistic desires.”
Sheeba raised her head finally, and turned her face to look into her sister’s beautiful eyes.
“I promise…” She finally said. “I’d try about Hijaab. I’d give it a try.”
“That’s the way of a good girl.” Deeba hugged her affectionately, her heart racing.
“Congratulations in advance for even thinking about taking such a great step.”
“But we also need proper atmosphere for that. Don’t we?” Sheeba questioned genuinely. “Our parents never told us the importance of Islam and Hijaab. They never educated us in this regard.” She said disappointedly. “It’s too late now, I suppose.”
“I’m from the same parents.” Deeba told her in a soothing voice. “There’s always a time. It’s never too late.”
“By the way, there’s a very interesting talk show on this weekend. They would telecast it live on T.V. Our School teacher Miss. Hijaab Zehra is representing those women who wear Hijaab.” Deeba told her sister happily.
“Really?” Sheeba asked, excited.
“Yes, and she’ll face Pakistan’s number one female debater, Sania Rubab who holds a totally opposite view on the subject.”
“Wow, what’s the topic?”
“It’s…. The question of Hijaab: suppression or liberation?"

The huge auditorium was crowded with hundreds of people, all eager to witness the most awaited and interesting talk show of the year. There were students of various universities and colleges, couples, families, press photographers, cameramen, and various government officials, waiting desperately for this most exciting talk show to begin. Every seat was occupied, and even the galleries were jammed with chattering youths, their spirits lifted by the thought of upcoming, thrilling event.
At last, one of the famous anchorpersons of T.V appeared, holding wireless mic in her right hand, and came to stand in the middle of the huge stage. She first threw a detailed glance on the silent crowd and then, after clearing her throat, she announced!
“Respected ladies and gentlemen, as you all know we’ve been waiting for this day for so long. But now, when the great day has finally arrived, we can’t wait anymore to listen, to see and to observe what this memorable day has for us.” Her sweet feminine voice echoed loudly through the surroundings.
“Events like this are rare. In fact you rarely see anything like this.” She added in the same impressive tone. “The question of Hijaab for Muslim women has been a controversy for centuries and will probably continue for many more. The topic of Hijaab is something we don’t talk about much. Let me say, we don’t come across on the media with anything like that. That was the reason behind arranging this talk show. We’ll share thoughts, exchange opinions and discuss what it really is and then we’ll try to find out any possible solution for the problems that may arise. Keeping in eye the wishes of you all, the topic we chose, is: The question of Hijaab: suppression or liberation?”
Here, she paused to take a breath and then looked at the curious, anxious people all around her.
“Respected guests and viewers, now is the time to invite the first participant of the program. She doesn’t need any introduction at all. With her impressive personality and effective talents, she has won every heart in such a short time.” The anchorperson announced emotionally, her voice shaking with excitement. “So, ladies and gentlemen, please give a big hand to Pakistan‟s number one female debater, Miss. Sania Rubab!”
As Sania left her seat, every eye rose toward her. She had the good looks of a model and wore her clothing like one. Her Pakistani dress was so fitted and tight that it seemed like she’d got it sewed and stitched only after putting it on her body. Her thin Dupatta was on one side of her body, unable to cover her front completely. The curvy, thrusting swells of her bosom drew many lustful gazes towards her figure. Her smooth waxed arms were clearly visible from her short-sleeved shirt. She had left her straight, dyed hair on her back, flowing freely as she rose and moved forward.
Loud sound of clapping from all over the huge hall followed her steps. There were few whistles here and there from the male audience as she proceeded toward the stage and seated herself on the chair placed at the left side of the anchor’s seat.
“Miss. Sania Rubab. It’s so very nice to see you here.” The anchorperson said pleasantly.


“Thank you, the pleasure is all mine.” Sania first smiled very pleasantly at the anchorperson and then at the crowd.
“You‟re free to speak whatever you want to, regarding the topic.” The anchorperson told her. “We all can’t wait to enjoy another marvellous speech from you. So let’s begin now.”
Sania gave her another smile and then shifted on her seat, turning to face the audiences.
“My dear fellows and respected guests, it’s a privilege for me that I’m invited here to present my views on this topic regarding Hijaab.” She began confidently.
“My point is that, this so called Hijaab of today does suppress a woman and her qualities.” Her voice was very feminine, her accent impressive and her tone sensational.
“This is the new millennium. We’ve entered the twenty first century. Things, now, are not like what they were fourteen hundred years ago. We now need to change ourselves according to the needs and requirements of the present Era. As far as this Islam is concerned, I am a Muslim myself and have no regrets for that. But being a Muslim doesn’t prevent me from being a modern woman too. Does it?” She asked fluently.
“Islam is a universal religion, a religion of all ages.” She went on effectively and confidently. “It has flexibility and capability for various adaptations, variable with opportunities and circumstances. But, unfortunately, certain people have hijacked Islam and think of it as their own property. They have their own definitions of Islam and they believe that everyone else, who doesn’t follow them, is on wrong path. In men, we call them “Mullah‟ kind of people but know what… you can find such stereotype specimens even in women too. These women are actually narrow-minded, backward psychics who insist upon certain old traditions of Arab namely Hijaab. They think that anyone who doesn’t wear Hijaab is wrong and bad. My personal opinion about such religious extremists is that they need professional help and they are scared and jealous of the dazzling beauty of today’s woman.”
At this point, she took a brief pause to take a breath and then resumed her speech.
“Hijaab is something that suppresses women and makes them feel bound or imprisoned. Although practiced by many, it’s an undeniable truth that it has failed to achieve its purpose from the beginning. Hijaab leaves a wrong impression on hearts of the surrounding people. Many non-Muslims refused to adopt Islam only because they think of Muslim women as persons who are oppressed by their men. It’s also an obstacle in the way to achieve modernization and development.” She then stopped for a moment, gazing at the massive audience in front of her.
“What I really personally believe is, a person should be moderate, open minded and balanced and should have enough broad vision to accept people for what they really are and not for what they look like.” As she finished her sentence, she received heavy clapping and greetings from the audience, which showed the fact that most of them were agreed with what she said.
“For references, and for confirmation of my opinion, please consult the books named “Woman; her true liberty”, by Smith Jacobs, “Islam suppresses women” by Melissa Thomas, “True face of modern woman” by Richard Marshall and many more. The list just never ends.” Sania added and then said,
“All of these renowned philosophers favour the fact that this unnecessary, formal tradition named Hijaab suppresses Muslim woman, and stops her from being a true liberal woman.” As she completed her sentence, Sania gave another wonderful smile to the audience, through her full, putting lips and then said,
“That’s all I need to say at the moment. I think all of you’ve got my message and your gestures show you do agree with me. Thanks for your support and appreciation.”
Her speech brought the females in the audience to their feet, cheering and clapping. Once again, the audience gave her a big hand, praising her for her valid and genuine points.
“And now I’d like to invite someone who favours and supports Hijaab as a life style”. The
anchorperson rose from her chair and announced.
“She has done masters in Islamic studies and now she’s writing her thesis on Hijaab for her doctorate degree. She also teaches in an Islamic school in her spare hours.” She said and then paused to notice the audience’s reaction. Some of them were yawning sleepily, and some of them were twisting their lips, like something really boring was about to come.
“Poor girl,” The anchorperson whispered to herself in her heart and then said,
“Please welcome, Miss. Hijaab Zehra.”
Every head had turned at her entrance, as she opened the door and stepped into the auditorium swiftly. Dressed gracefully in a full, light green Abaaya and dark green scarf which didn’t show even slightest of her hair and body except her hands, she was looking ultra-modest. In that broad, dark green scarf that covered her head and face up to her eyes, she looked like a holy Goddess, a live statue of grace, soberness, respect and shyness.
“Look… Here we’ve got an UMO.” A teenage girl with her arms bare and head naked had
exclaimed sarcastically.
“UMO?” Her companion asked, confused.
“Yeah man…an “Unidentified Moving Object.” Her sentence was followed by laughter from many.
Critical and sarcastic glances were exchanged and throats cleared.
“Oh my God! It can’t be her.” One of the girls from audience exclaimed with shock.
“Why?” Her fellow asked.
“That girl is a walking encyclopedia of knowledge about Islam.”
“But Sania is sharp. She’s not less than her. She’s the best talkative girl I’ve ever seen. Nobody can defeat her.” Her friend had replied.
“Who’s she?” This time, it was a modern, aunty-kind-of-woman’s voice, as she looked at her with disinterest. “An Afghan woman or something?”

“I don’t think so. But she sure looks like one.” Her husband replied, smiling at her covered figure.
They all burst into laughter.
Ignoring all the voices and the bitter sarcastic comments, Hijaab proceeded toward the stage silently. Once she reached there, she seated herself on the chair placed at the right side of the anchor’s seat. Now, with anchor in the middle, she was face to face with Sania who scanned her with piercing eyes and jerked her head carelessly, her rich hair flowing wildly around her face as she did so.
“All respected ladies and gentlemen, Assalaam O alaikum from a very ordinary woman.” Hijaab began in a very calm and patient voice. With powerful sound system and echo equipment, her voice felt impressive and effective to everyone sitting there.
“I am just a student, and I don’t have much knowledge even on the subject I’m going to advocate. However, I’d try my best to present my opinion and views to you in the easiest form possible. I’m not an expert of my subject like others. However, I’d like to begin my speech with a poem; its title is “Hijaab” of course.”
She began to read in her sweet, musical voice with a confidence that surprised many. As she read in her sensational voice, it seemed like everyone there had turned to stone, frozen at the place.
When you look at me
all you can see,
Is the scarf that covers my hair,
my word you can't hear
Because you're too full of fear,
Mouth gaping, all you do is stare.
You think it's not my own choice,
in your own "liberation" you rejoice.
You're so thankful that you're not me.
Think I'm uneducated,
Trapped, oppressed and subjugated.
You're so thankful that you are free.
But people, you've got it wrong-
You’re the weak and I’m the strong,
For I've rejected the trap of man.
Cheap clothes, jeans, and skirt,
these are devices for pain and hurt,
Always jumping to the male agenda,
Competing on his terms.
No job share, no baby-sitting facilities,
No feeding and diaper-changing amenities.
No equal pay for equal skill-
your job they can always fill.
Is this liberation?
A person with ideas and thought,
I'm not for sale, I can't be bought.
I won't decorate anyone's arm,
nor be promoted for my charm.
There's more to me than playing coy.
Living life as a balancing game- mother,
Daughter, wife, nurse, cleaner, cook, lover,
and still bring home a wage.
Who thought up this modern "freedom"
Where man can love them and man can leave them.
This is not free but life in a cage.
“Be-Hijaab‟ women you can have your life.
Mine - it has less strife.
I cover and I get respected
Surely that's to be expected
For I won't demean the feminine
I won't live to a male criterion.
I dance to my own tune,
And I hope you see this very soon,
for your own sake- wake up and use your sight!


Her voice became a mere whisper as she completed the last stanza. Unexpectedly, this time the people did clap for her, breaking the complete pin-drop silence that had been all around the place during the time she was reading the poem.
“Now, I’d first want to make it clear that what does this term ‘Hijaab’ mean.” She said evenly.
“Hijaab is…” She continued smoothly.
“A life style, a whole way of living. Unfortunately, most of us interpret the wrong meanings of ‘Hijaab’. We think that it’s just a cloth that covers our hair and body. No, it’s not ‘just’ that. Basically it’s a covering, imaginary, material and spiritual shield that protects you against bad eyes, sins and evils.” She said impressively.
“Respected guests and my fellows, ‘Hijaab’ is not just a symbol or a religious tradition. Also, it doesn’t mean covering your hair and body only. It is not merely a covering dress but more importantly, it is behaviour, manners, speech and appearance in public. Dress is only one facet of the total being. Hijaab also includes the way you live, the style you act in, the expression you show, the way in which you talk, walk and do your work.” Her voice was firm and unshaken, without any touch of confusion or hesitancy in it.
“Our women are our jewels, invaluable ornaments.” She went on with the same grace. “The more valuable is a thing, more secured we keep it and it is not displayed to one and all or to the people who visit us. The first or the most attractive part of a woman is her hair or body itself. It is the hair and the mould of the body that stimulate the animal passion in the sexes. Thus hiding of the hair and the mould of the body of a woman depends upon the value she herself assigns to her own personality and position and to the extent she desires herself to be seen by others or otherwise.“
Hijaab then took a long breath and threw a glance on the people in front of her, who stared at her with pure concentration.
“The Hijaab is modesty. Allah made the adherence to the Hijaab a manifestation for chastity and modesty.
Allah says:
“O Prophet, tell your wives and daughters and the women of the believers to draw their
cloaks (veils) close round them. That will be better, so that they may be recognized and not
annoyed." (Surah Ahzaab, verse 59)
“In the above verse, there is evidence that the recognition of the apparent beauty of the woman is harmful to her. When the cause of attraction ends, the restriction is removed.” Hijaab finished her sentence and looked toward Sania, expecting a question.
Sania kept herself silent for a moment, as she didn’t see any reason to argue the point.

“I wear Hijaab and that was not so easy for me in the beginning.” Hijaab continued. “It‟s still not something very favourite for some people as they do object and hoot, even make fun of me for wearing it. I get the whole gamut of strange looks, stares, and covert glances. You see, I wear the Hijaab, a scarf that covers my appearance. I do this because I am a Muslim woman who believes her body is her own private concern. Wearing the Hijaab has given me freedom from constant attention to my physical self. Because my appearance is not subjected to public scrutiny, my beauty, or perhaps lack of it, has been removed from the realm of what can legitimately be discussed.”
“Could you please tell us what does this word ‘Hijaab’ literally mean? I mean is it Arabic or what?” The anchorperson interrupted for the first time during her fluent speech.
"I was just coming to that.” As she spoke, everyone could see her eyes smiling above the veil that covered her face. “The root word of Hijaab is Hijaaba, an Arabic word, and that means: to veil, cover, screen, shelter, to hide, to make imperceptible, invisible, to conceal, to disguise, masked, to hide, to flee from sight, conceal, to cover up, become hidden, to be obscured, to become invisible, disappear from sight.” She explained in detail, not leaving a single point.
“Hijaab also means….shyness‟, like the beloved daughter of our dear holy Prophet said, ‘A woman’s best jewellery is her Hijaab.”
As she spoke, Deeba noted, her voice was as consistent and firm as ever. Both Deeba and Sheeba were sitting in the last rows along with many of their other friends who were all gathered together to attend this interesting event.
“Respected sisters, don’t think, ‘Hijaab’ is just a tradition. Woman is not an item for sale. She should be completely independent in deciding her future and fate. A woman needs protection, security and comfort and Hijaab provides her all these things.” Hijaab’s voice became deeper as she spoke.
“The Hijaab is purity.” Hijaab continued. “Allah has shown us the wisdom behind the legislation of the Hijaab in holy Quran as:
“And when you ask them (Muslim women) for anything you want, ask them from behind a
screen, that is purer for your hearts and their hearts.” (Surah Ahzaab, verse 32)”
“It means, Hijaab makes our heart pure. Yes, respected guests and my fellows, the Hijaab makes for greater purity for the hearts of believing men and women because it screens against the desire of the heart. Without the Hijaab, the heart may or may not desire.”
While she was delivering her speech, the audience was so quiet one could have heard cotton ball drop.
“That’s why the heart is more pure when Hijaab blocks the sight and thus the prevention of evil actions is very much manifested. The Hijaab cuts off the ill thoughts and the greed of the sick hearts.” She said softly but firmly.
“Our dear sister Sania spoke of the ‘dazzling’ beauty of woman.” Hijaab added bravely. “Let’s see what Allah speaks of this…
“And stay quietly in your houses, and make not a dazzling display, like that of the former
Times of Ignorance.” (Surah Ahzaab, verse 33)
“See, according to Quran, those women who don’t wear Hijaab represent the former Times of ignorance and yet our sister Sania says that ‘Hijaab’ is an obstacle in the way to achieve modernization and development.” She looked deeply into Sania‟s eyes.
“I’ll ask, does getting free from cloths and civilization mean height of development and modernization?” Hijaab asked with heavy irony.
Sania swallowed hard and glowered at her, unable to form an answer.
“Well Miss. Hijaab,” The anchorperson interrupted, trying to protect Sania‟s point of view. “What Miss. Sania actually meant was what advantages a woman could achieve by hiding herself?”
“In her hiding herself lays her own safety and value.” Hijaab said with firm and fixed belief. “Though she might remain pure but with men as well as women, there is always the devil to inspire evil intention and stimulates the rebellious carnal desires. No woman would like her beauty to be polluted by the lusty glances of the devilish passion to pollute her pure and chaste fairness.”
“The Hijaab is Righteousness, as well.” Hijaab added.
Sania just looked toward her, as if not getting her point. It was true; she had never ever come across with such a person throughout her debate career.
“The widespread forms of dresses in the world today are mostly for show off and hardly taken as a cover and shield of the woman's body. To the believing women, however the purpose is to safeguard their bodies and cover their private parts as a manifestation of the order of Allah. It is an act of Taqwah, the righteousness. “
“And last but not least, Hijaab is ‘Ghairat’.” Hijaab pointed out.
“The Hijaab fits the natural feeling of ‘Ghairat’, which is intrinsic in the straight man who does not like people to look at his wife or daughters. Ghairat is a driving emotion that drives the straight man to safeguard women who are related to him from strangers. The straight Muslim man has Gheerah for all Muslim women. In response to lust and desire, men look with desire at other women while they do not mind that other men do the same to their wives or daughters. The mixing of sexes and absence of Hijaab destroys the Ghairat in men. Islam considers Gheerah an integral part of faith. The dignity of the wife or daughter or any other Muslim woman must be highly respected and defended.”
Our holy prophet has clearly said…
“A man, whose wife, sister or daughter doesn’t wear Hijaab and he doesn’t object on that, is shameless and has no Ghairat.”
With this saying, Hijaab finished her speech and looked toward the audience. “If anyone of you has any questions in mind, please feel free to ask!”
“You’re good at speech, Miss. Hijaab, you know that?” Sania exclaimed rigidly. “Hey, why don’t you girls give her a big hand?” She playfully clapped her hands. Clapping all alone, her gesture sounded mysterious and weird in the heavy silence.
“I don’t need others’ appreciation for the confirmation of my own personal views, Miss. Sania!” Hijaab said with grinning eyes.
“So, you think a woman’s beauty should be ‘unseen’?” Sania asked her first question, beginning their mutual conversation for the first time.
“Yes, that’s what I think and believe.” Hijaab told her firmly.
“That would be unnatural.” Sania made a disgusted face.
“That would be the most natural thing, believe me.” She buried Sania with a killing smile that showed through her big, black eyes. “As the most beautiful things of the world are unseen.”
Killer and breath taking eyes! Sitting with in audiences, Deeba thought.
“Aha, Like what?” Sania stared blankly at her.
“Why do we close our eyes when we sleep? When we cry? When we imagine? When we kiss? When we love? This is because the most beautiful thing in the world is hidden.” Hijaab said, looking to the audience to include them.
There was a big ‘wow’ from the audience on her comment.
“Talk about positive things, Miss. Hijaab.” Sania said sharply. “Be alive, and come down to earth.”
“I’m already a down-to-earth kind of girl, Miss. Sania,” Hijaab told her calmly. “However see some people are trying to leave the earth and go into the space through their so called ‘modernization’.”
“Okay, you say Muslim women still need to wear Hijaab, right?” Sania‟s chin thrust forward at a challenging angle, prepared to argue the issue. “But, I don’t think that circumstances are still the same like they were in our Prophet’s era.”
“I wonder why you say so, when we still have the same Quran.” Hijaab reasoned with a twinkle in her eyes.
“When we still have the same method and number of prayers, even have the same fundamental principles yet.”
“Don’t stick to your fundamentals and old basics, Miss. Hijaab.” Sania mumbled, oddly tongue-tied. “Things are changing.”
“But people should not, in a negative way.” Hijaab steadied her nerves and smiled a tremendous agreement with herself. “Either stop blaming yourself a ‘Muslim’, or at least try to be like one.”
“That’s a hard attitude.” Sania murmured, with pure dislike in her expression. “Miss. Hijaab you seem so straight, so uptight. Miss. Middle Class Conservative, which is you.”
Keeping her tone as pleasant as possible, Hijaab said. “I won’t comment on this ‘personal’ remark from you because it only shows the ground on which you really stand.”
“She’s an expert of her subject.” Someone called out from the audience.

“No, I’m not.” Hijaab smiled gracefully and said to the audience. “As far as I know of the experts, an expert is someone who takes a subject you understand and makes it sound confusing.”
The crowd burst out laughing on her statement, enjoying the argument as much as it could.
“So, Miss. Hijaab, you think that Hijaab is necessary for women, right?” This was the first bullet from the modern Sania. “I strongly disagree with that and challenge your opinion.”
“It’s not what ‘I’ think my dear sister, It’s something which ‘Allah’ likes and orders us to do.” Hijaab said gently and then went on to explain.
Sania raised her brows and shrugged her shoulders but said nothing.
As if reading her thoughts, Hijaab said, “Yes, I do have proofs and reasons for saying so. However, I don’t know the names of so many ‘western’ books like you do. I just have one book for my reference.”
“I see, and which book is that?”
“Holy Quran.”
Hijaab’s reply came like a missile, fast, sudden and unexpected. It made Sania ashamed, and she turned her face away.
“Allah is clearly ordering us Muslim women to observe Hijaab in the following verse.” Hijaab said in a modest tone and then recited the verse in a wonderful accent, first in Arabic, which was then followed by its English translation.
"And say to the believing women that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except what (normally) appears of them. They should draw their coverings over their bosoms and not show their charms except to their husbands (or close relatives), and let them not strike their feet so that what they hide of their ornaments may be known; and turn to Allah all of you, O believers! So that you may be successful." (Surah Noor, verse 31)
Sania couldn’t utter a single word then, she was speechless at the moment.
“But is Islam just Hijaab and veil and nothing else?” Sania muttered in a confused tone, her tongue was sharp and pointed like a sword. “Why don’t you talk about prayers, fasting and other fundamental principles of Islam?”
“Sister Sania, with due respect, if tea is deficient of sugar, would you add milk in it? Or would you prefer putting sugar to make it sweet?” As Hijaab spoke, her words felt like a heavy explosion to Sania Rubab.
“Hijaab is something which affects society on ‘general’ scale, while prayers and fasting come under the heading of one’s individual acts. Meaning, offering them or not is one’s personal matter, it won’t affect the society generally as much as rejection of Hijaab does.”
“Whatever.” Sania chewed her bottom lip in confusion. “I don’t agree with you at all when you say that woman needs Hijaab for her security and all that.”
“Yes, she definitely needs Hijaab for her safety, security and protection.” Hijaab told her softly, her accent impressive and her tone expressive.
"Why doesn't she keep a body guard then?" Sania objected in a voice filled with deep satire.
All eyes were on Hijaab as she took a long moment and answered Sania.
“Because she wants to be ‘independent’, like you said.” As Hijaab spoke to Sania, there was something deliciously wicked about the way she was holding the other girl through her eyes, which made Sania even more confused. “Those people who keep bodyguards are dependent on them for their lives.”
"We Muslim females wear Hijaab because we want to stop men from treating us like sex objects, as they have always done.” Hijaab continued in the same courageous style. Although she didn’t raise her voice, but there was steel in it. “We want them to ignore our appearance and to be attentive to our personalities and mind. We want them to take us seriously and treat us as equals and not just chase us around for our bodies and physical looks."
“How confident you are!” Said Sania, wiping beads of perspiration from her fair face with the back of one slender arm.
“Pity you are not.” Hijaab replied swiftly. “Mind, if I ask you something personal?”
“W...What is that?” Sania swallowed hard.
“Did you ever wear a Hijaab?”
“Well… I…” Sania stammered thickly. “I did start wearing scarf once.”
“Then?”
“But, then I thought… am I a perfect Muslim? Do I follow all the orders of Islam, If I don’t, then why only Hijaab? So, I just took it off. ”
“I see,” Hijaab nodded thoughtfully and then asked. “Miss. Sania, with due respect, does doing one sin justify a need to do other sins too? “
“Meaning?” Sania frowned.
“It’s simple.“ Hijaab said confidently. “Can we drink wine just because we do backbiting too? You must not forget that both are forbidden in Islam. Also, can one commit adultery just because he is a liar as well?
“So?”
“So sister, if we’re not adopting a good deed for some reason, it doesn’t mean we can’t adopt the other good things as well. Hijaab has its own separate place. You can’t leave it by saying that I don’t practice other orders of Islam either, so why shall I practice the Hijaab only?” Hijaab’s point did make sense; there was no doubt about that.
The fractional tightening of Sania's lower lip indicated the message had been received and understood.
“Dear sisters,” Hijaab went on. “Who says this new century belongs to women?” She asked aloud, her voice a little shaky with emotion now.

“Not at all. We’re still in men’s world and era. Have you ever seen a man wearing a Saarh? Ofcourse not, but you’ll always see many women wearing jeans or pants, shirts and other masculine things, and they do it happily on their own will.”
“So you’re saying that a Muslim woman must not wear stuff like Jeans, trousers and pants, right?” Sania asked, biting her lip. “Oh my God, so much fanaticism and conservative thinking you’ve got.”
“I’d only present what I’ve read.” Hijaab replied softly, never losing her temper even for a second.
“Now what’s right and what’s wrong, it’s your job to decide. As far as I know, women must not dress so as to appear as men. In Sahih Bukhari, the most famous book of Muslims after Quran, the Prophet cursed the „men who appear like women and the ‘women’ who appear like men. In the same book, there is another saying of the prophet that;
“Muslim women should not dress in a way similar to the unbelievers.”
“And not a single person sitting here would like to argue upon the fact that, by ‘origin’, jeans and pants are the invention of ‘western men’. Infact, jeans is supposed to be a pure ‘male-oriented’ cloth and if you read U.S history in detail, you’d find out that, just a hundred years ago, only rough and tough cowboys used to wear it. How masculine and how unfeminine.” Hijaab smiled dejectedly.
Sania just stared at Hijaab, at a loss of words.
“But ‘Hijaab’ and all those long dresses can adversely affect the activities of working women.” A girl in her early twenties complained from the audience. “Only modern dresses like jeans and pants allow a working woman to work care-freely.”
“I respect your opinion dear sister.” Hijaab turned to face her. “However, I don’t agree with that.”
She then breathed a long sigh and then resumed her discussion.
“Often forgotten is the fact that modern Western dress is a new invention. Looking at the clothing of Western women as recently as seventy years ago, we see clothing similar to Hijaab. Their clothing, which consisted of long, full dresses and various types of head covering did not inhibit these active and hard-working women of the West. Similarly, Muslim women who wear Hijaab do not find it impractical or interfering with their activities in all levels of life.”
“So, all restrictions in Islam are for woman’s dress, right? Men are as free as they’ve always been.” Sania said harshly, but in reality, she was feeling like tongue-tied for the first time in her life.
“I’m sorry, that is also not true.” Hijaab commented. “Hijaab is for a man as well. However, since his body has different shape and form, which is certainly not so attractive and beautiful like a woman’s body is, Quran sets a different criteria for his ‘Hijaab’.”
“And what’s that?” Sania questioned sarcastically.
“Men’s Hijaab is in their ‘eyes’, as Allah orders both men and women to lower their gaze.” Hijaab answered patiently. “Besides, there’s a dress criteria for Muslim men too. The clothing of men should not be like the dress of women, nor should it be tight or provocative. A Muslim should dress to show his identity as a Muslim. Men are not allowed to wear gold or silk. However, both are allowed for women. For both men and women, clothing requirements are not meant to be a restriction but rather a way in which society will function in a proper, Islamic manner.”
Sania couldn’t argue with this, nor did she want to
“The ‘Hijaab’ team scores an extra point.” The anchorperson said wryly.
“An extra point? I didn’t know we were keeping the score.’’ Hijaab muttered.
“Most women like their beauty and all that fanciness.” Sania said sharply.
“Not this woman.” She corrected.
“You don’t represent the face of a twenty first century woman.” Sania said with pride. “We want equality with men and won’t ever compromise our freedom for anything.” Sania snapped emotionally, her voice louder than before.
“Precious sister, women are not going to achieve equality with the right to show their bodies and hair in public, as some people would like to have you believe.” In reply, Hijaab’s voice was still very soft and gentle. “That would only make us party to our own objectification. True equality will be had only when women don't need to display themselves to get attention and won't need to defend their decision to keep their bodies to themselves.”
"You make it sound like women should be ashamed of their beauty.” Sania fired back. “Don’t you think a woman is the most beautiful creature of the universe and she has every right to display herself?”
“Sorry, beg your pardon, couldn’t get you.” Now, it was Hijaab’s turn to frown, with confused knitting of her brow.
“I mean, a woman should be proud of her beauty, not ashamed of it.” Sania explained. “If God has made her beautiful, she should be thankful for that instead of hiding it like it’s something bad.”
“Exactly.” Hijaab said quickly. “Her beauty is not something bad or cheap, and that’s why she should protect and cover it, like we keep every expensive and precious thing safe and hidden.” She made her point in a genuine way. “And mind you, a woman who covers herself is concealing her sexuality but allowing her femininity to be brought out. That’s what the word ‘woman’ means in Urdu and Persian…. ‘Hidden’.”
“Any message you want to give to the audience?” The anchorperson asked, glancing at her wristwatch for the third time. There was something about this girl, Hijaab which was making her uncomfortable for some unknown reason and she wanted to finish this program soon now.
“I’d just like to say…a strong person and a waterfall always channel their own path.” Hijaab addressed the audience, her eyes touching each and every person sitting there. “Be yourself, everyone else is taken!” She said in a soft yet effective tone. “You’re Muslim women, be like one, and be proud of that. Don’t lose your identity and don’t lose culture. Adopt positive things of the West, instead of going blindly behind the fake, temporary ‘attractions’. Thank you.”
People clapped for her, admired her for her excellent command on speech, but their response was somewhat different than what they gave to Sania. They had liked Sania for her bold style and daring personality but their response for Hijaab was filled with respect and appreciation.
“I’ve a question for you,” A bareheaded girl wearing a short-sleeved shirt raised her hand from the audience.
“Welcome,” Hijaab replied.
“Have you ever realized what would other people think if every Muslim woman begins to wear Hijaab?” Hijaab stared at her for few seconds and then answered.
“What we really are matters more than what people think of us.”
“Your views and your opinions are those of a religious extremist, shall I say.” Sania muttered in frustration. “A person should be ‘moderate’ in everything.”
"What do you really mean by the term ‘moderate’?” Hijaab‟s grin broadened, they could all tell that through her eyes.
"Umm… means, something in the middle.” Sania said huskily, feeling trapped in her own web.
“Middle of what?” She asked, amusement flickering in her big eyes.
“Well,” Sania chewed her lower lip for a time before she could go on. “You won’t get it. That was slip of the tongue.”
“It was a slip of the truth.” Hijaab gave her a smiley look through her eyes and then turned her face to address the audience.
That was when the anchorperson interrupted.
“Miss. Hijaab, you’re getting personal. There’s no place for pouring such fanatic and aggressive views in this all-woman discussion.”
“Respected lady…” Hijaab’s eyes grinned as she faced the anchorperson. “How can I expect you to remain neutral in this discussion about ‘Hijaab’ when you’re not a wearing a ‘Hijaab’ yourself.”
Anchorperson bit her upper lip in frustration but said nothing.
Hijaab then turned toward the crowed again.
“Our dear Miss. Sania told us a very beautiful thing in her speech, and that was, accept people for what they really are and not for what they look like.”
“So?” Sania lifted an eyebrow and frowned, but Hijaab carried herself on.
“She has made my point unknowingly.” Hijaab smiled through her eyes. Now it was her turn to blast her bomb.
“That’s the whole philosophy behind ‘Hijaab’, that… don’t go for looks, don’t show your
appearance, don’t trust your looks, instead… impress people by your inner qualities and not by your external charms.”
Her last comment of personal knowledge caused Sania to fall silent.
There was a chorus of impressed ‘whoa’ from the audience.
“Miss. Hijaab, if some man stares at woman’s body and hair with bad intention, it would be ‘his’fault, not hers.” Sania declared aloud, unable to control her temper any longer.
Unaware of the interested gazes they were drawing, they sat eye to eye in the middle of the stage, glaring at each other and breathing hard, both too firm and stubborn to give an inch.
“I’m afraid I’d argue with that too” Hijaab said matter-of-factly, and then stopped to take a short breath, but only to continue once again.
“If a girl gets raped or sexually abused because of her attractive exposed body or some guy gets some bad habit in frustration after seeing a beautiful or so called ‘sexy’ girl, longing to get that vulnerable body anyway, whom will you blame? I’d say that both are responsible.”
“You’re over-suspicious.” Sania exclaimed with disinterest.
“Sorry?”
“I think only those women and men insist upon ‘Hijaab’ who are not sure of themselves and who don’t trust themselves. Actually such people are ‘suspicious’.
“I see.” Hijaab nodded thoughtfully. “Sister Sania Rubab, do you pray?” Hijaab’s question was sudden and very unexpected.
“Listen.” Her chin quivered slightly.
“Please.” Hijaab insisted. “Just answer this question.”
“Yes, I do, sometimes.” She swallowed with difficulty.
“Can you offer prayers without covering your head, hair and body?”
“Ofcourse not.”
“Then, why did Allah made it obligatory for a woman that she should wear Hijaab while praying even if she is alone with no man around?” Hijaab asked and smiled at the irony of the situation.
“Tell me, why Allah… ALLAH the most closest to us wants us to be fully covered when we offer prayers?”
“I…I don’t know.” Sania stammered, unable to gather her nerves and words. “But don’t think I’m a pessimist about Hijaab.” Sania muttered under her tongue. “But I do complain about the way you fanatics use it.”
“A pessimist is someone who complains about the noise when the optimist knocks.” Hijaab said to her.
Smiling, she then turned toward audience and said,

“Ladies and gentlemen, according to Miss. Sania’s philosophy, Allah, our GOD, wants us to cover our hair and bodies while offering prayers because He’s ‘suspicious’ about us and is not sure of Himself.”
A chuckle of amusement came from the public.
“My dear sister,” Hijaab addressed Sania. ”Allah wants woman to wear Hijaab while she prays simply because Allah likes to see her in her best and complete form when she comes in front of Him in prayers, as she is incomplete without her Hijaab.”
As she remarked, the chorus of applause was louder than before.
Sania was completely silent now. Perhaps, she had nothing to offer this time, nothing to talk, nothing to exchange and nothing to argue.
“But Miss. Hijaab you must realize that wearing Hijaab is not so easy for many.” A girl in her mid twenties took part in the discussion from the audience. Although, she was wearing a scarf but she also wore a short sleeved fitting shirt at the same time, which left her wrists and arm bare.
“I mean, it depends upon your atmosphere too. If your sisters, your mother and the women around you are not observing Hijaab, it would be tough for you.” The girl sounded gruff and defensive.
“I definitely agree.” Hijaab told her. “But I’d also like to point out that one must adopt ‘Hijaab’ by her heart naturally. It’s important to note that many of us girls adopt so-called ‘scarf’ just in fashion, which has nothing do with the principles of Islam. For example…” She left her sentence unfinished and then asked a question from the same girl.
“What do you feel when you wear scarf?”
“I…I just don’t feel anything.”
As she heard the girl’s answer, Hijaab turned to face the rest of the audience again. “Did you see? Some people blindly follow others without even knowing the logic of what they do. You must all understand that simply wearing scarf is not Hijaab. If you just cover your head, it doesn’t make you a ‘Veiled girl’.” As Hijaab spoke, her beautiful and effective voice gripped everyone’s heart there.
“And yes,” Hijaab nodded. “If you don’t have a particular atmosphere around you, it would be tough for you to wear Hijaab. Yes, difficult but not impossible. However, those who trust Allah and believe in themselves can make such things easy in a short time. It actually depends upon woman’s own courage and bravery, that how much potential she has to change herself in a positive way and how much power she has to adopt herself in good, constructive way.” She kept her response short and to the point, inviting no further discussion of the subject.
“Miss. Hijaab, you said Hijaab is even for speech, I mean the way we talk. Would you mind explaining that?” This time, it was a teenage girl from the audience who asked the question.
“Yes, why not?” Hijaab answered very pleasantly. “Let’s open our Holy Quran and see what is written in there:
“Be not soft in speech, lest he in whose heart is a disease (of hypocrisy or evil desire for adultery) should be moved with desire, but speak in a honourable manner.” (Surah Ahzaab: verse 32)
All the people were silent by now. Many of them had read their holy Quran many times, but no one had ever tried to understand the meaning really.
“You also said that Hijaab is a Shield?” A middle age woman from the guests wanted to confirm.
“Does it mean those who don’t wear it are insecure?”
“It is indeed a shield.” Hijaab nodded her head in a sure way. “The Prophet said:
“Allah, Most High, is bashful and shielder. He loves shyness, shielding and covering.”
“I just have to ask one more thing.” Sania gave her a challenging smile.
“Sure, why not.”
"Why do Muslim women have to cover their heads?" Sania objected breathlessly.
“The answer to the question is very simple. Muslim women observe Hijaab and cover their head and body because Allah has told them to do so.”
“Okay, I know that has been revealed in Quran and all that.” Sania tried her last effort to make a reason for her opinion. “But could you tell me any single ‘practical’ advantage such women get by covering their heads?”
Hijaab stared at her for a moment, as if trying to understand her question. She then said in a deep, thoughtful voice. “A Muslim woman who covers her head is making a statement about her identity. Anyone who sees her will know that she is a Muslim and has a good moral character. Many Muslim women who cover are filled with dignity and self esteem; they are pleased to be identified as a Muslim woman. As a chaste, modest, pure woman, she does not want her sexuality to enter into interactions with men in the smallest degree.”
“But I firmly believe that long as you’re covered, I think that’s okay.” Sania argued more. “I mean ‘covering’ should be important.”
“I don’t get you.” Hijaab shook her head. “Would you mind explaining that?”
“I believe that as long as you’re covering your body and not showing your skin, you’re in Hijaab.” Sania made one last effort to draw the crowd’s attention toward her. “Just keep your heart clean. The ‘Hijaab’ should be in people’s heart, not necessarily on their bodies. If your intention is good then it doesn’t matter you observe Hijaab or not.”
“No comments.”
“Miss. Hijaab doesn’t have any answer now!” She smiled sarcastically.
“It often shows an excellent command of language to say nothing.” Hijaab said quietly.
“Accept it.” Sania gave her a challenging look. “You don’t know what to say now.”
Hijaab sighed aloud and then said,
“As for your covering, thin transparent sheets can also cover body. Oil and paint can also cover your body completely. But would it conceal the shape of your body too?”
Sania avoided her gaze, trying to focus her attention on something else but she failed to do so.
“In another famous book of Muslims, Sahih Muslim, the Prophet Muhammad stated that: in later generations of his nation, there would be women who would be dressed and covered but naked and on top of their heads (what looks like) camel humps. Curse them for they are truly cursed."
The audience was silent now. While many of them were feeling ashamed of themselves, a few of them were proud too.
“Well, if you don’t mind, may I take some audience opinion now?” Hijaab turned to face the anchorperson.
“About what?” She was shocked.
Just what the hell does this dangerous girl want now? She thought in frustration.
“While doing an unofficial survey, I came across with certain interesting facts.” Hijaab looked at her hopefully. “I want to show those facts to you.”
“Like what?” She asked in disbelief.
“It’s been observed that husbands of those women who wear Hijaab are most satisfied with their wives and relatively have a less rate of affairs with other women.”
“Well… I don’t mind, if they…” Anchorperson couldn’t say more as Hijaab thanked her with a nod of her head.
“Wait, let me show you.” Hijaab said and then she disengaged her mic from its holder. Taking the wireless mic in her right hand, she rose from her chair and proceeded toward the crowd.
“May I speak to any husband sitting here whose wife observes Hijaab, please?” She asked, throwing her glance here and there in search of any person who could answer her.
After few seconds, a man in his late thirties raised his hand.
“Very well,” She replied, and very confidently, she took few short steps toward him.
“What is your name, sir?” She asked, bringing the mic near his mouth.
“I’m Javed, Muhammad Javed.” He answered, standing up.
“So Mr. Javed, first of all, congratulations to you that your wife wears Hijaab. You should be proud for having such a good wife.”
“Well, thank you.” He smiled gently.
“How do you feel about that, I mean as a husband?” Hijaab asked, staring at his face.
Mouth agape, everyone stared at them with curiosity. Hijaab had taken the show completely into her control. It felt like it had become a ‘one-woman’ show where she was the anchorperson, she was the audience and she was the guest as well.
“Actually you know what, it gives me a feeling of satisfaction that dirty eyes are unable to identify my wife, to recognize her, to judge her.” Javed said in an excited tone.
“But it’s not just that.” He continued. “Trust me... it feels so exciting and interesting. When my wife who's fully covered in front of everyone else, reveals her hair and body in front of me, only me. It gives me a unique feeling, a feeling of satisfaction, possessiveness. That yes, she's just mine, she is so attractive but her attraction is just for me. Every time I see her, I see her in a new light. It’s so sweetly seductive, even sensual but in a holy way. She never loses her charms and attraction for me. She is always like a new bride for me. Being totally satisfied with her, I never felt any need to take interest in any other woman."
“Thank you very much for your kind opinion Mr. Javed.” Hijaab thanked him and walked back to the stage to sit on her chair.
“Know what?” Sania said angrily, feeling like a loser. “I’m sure you will not be able to change the world. Majority of the women will never follow you. You’ve lost.”
“Follow me?” Hijaab laughed playfully.
“Who do you think I’m?” Hijaab questioned loudly, her tone emotional. “When people don’t follow God, don’t follow Prophet, how are they supposed to follow an ordinary, common woman like me?” She asked, laughing softly now.
Feeling defeated, Sania sagged against her chair.
“Thank you for giving me a chance to express myself.” Hijaab said to the anchorperson, standing up to leave the stage.
“That was a big favour for me, believe me.”

Okay guys, that's it. sorry for the delay and this update is kinda jammed ......was in a real hurry. Hope u'll like it that way. thnx

Speechless. She has matured.

Raymonbell:

ur lips is nt bad

.
Oga did u cum 2 read mrs undage story or stare at dis ? Undage warn dis ur reader abi na folower.
Ur update was so educative, nd tnx 4 fulfilin ur promise. U ar 1 in a million... Hw is baby kaheel nd husy?? My regards to dem

SPLENDIDFLOZZY: .
Oga did u cum 2 read mrs undage story or stare at dis ? Undage warn dis ur reader abi na folower.
Ur update was so educative, nd tnx 4 fulfilin ur promise. U ar 1 in a million... Hw is baby kaheel nd husy?? My regards to dem

Lol. No mind am abeg .
Khaleel and Hubby r fyn, thnx for ur concern.
Am glad u like it.#weaimtoplease

Lucentbeauty: Speechless. She has matured.

Who??

Finally!!! ¶ yaff reach here.... #Panting hard# wat a marathon!
Underage, u r really creative ♌ Ūя̲̅ write-up is mind-blowing. Thumbs Up madam!! Kip doin Ūя̲̅ best.

gennysq: Finally!!! ¶ yaff reach here.... #Panting hard# wat a marathon!
Underage, u r really creative ♌ Ūя̲̅ write-up is mind-blowing. Thumbs Up madam!! Kip doin Ūя̲̅ best.

Welcome ooo. *hands her a towel because she's sweating profusely*

I hope u get a seat cos d house is kinda full

Thnx for d compliments.

As nice as ever! Love d message u‘re trying to pass across, which is almost becoming a 9tmare in our society. Just a ‘but‘, take care wit it cos we all aren‘t muslims, so it doesn‘t turn out to be all boring. Cos i had 2 skip some lines, i must confess. Well done ma‘am!

kennybelle: As nice as ever! Love d message u‘re trying to pass across, which is almost becoming a 9tmare in our society. Just a ‘but‘, take care wit it cos we all aren‘t muslims, so it doesn‘t turn out to be all boring. Cos i had 2 skip some lines, i must confess. Well done ma‘am!

I understand ur message. I will

And thanks

Thanks 4d smiley, had to smile, didn‘t expect dt. Afterall, u aint being paid for what u‘re doing. May God continue to use u to touch n change lives. If n only if readers can read meaning to ur message n not reading d story alone.