‘I don’t see much point in advertising things unless it gets serious,’ he said eventually, staring straight at the road ahead.
‘Well, it must be a little bit serious at least. You guys went on holiday together.’ I tried to keep my voice light and non-accusatory. Malik’s and my interpretation of being good Muslims were different. We both prayed, fasted and paid our yearly Zakat to charity. But whereas I didn’t believe in getting super physical before marriage, Malik thought it wasn’t a big deal. To me, intimacy was sacred and should be enjoyed within the sanctity of marriage. It wasn’t something my parents had preached openly to me. Can you imagine my dad breaking the birds and the bees down for me? It was something unsaid, that you just knew to be the case. Whether you listened to your religion or culture was another story. Malik clearly didn’t and since he was finally opening up to me, I wasn’t going to ruin it by preaching to him.
‘Yeah, but a holiday is different from a lifetime together,’ he replied. ‘I don’t know if she’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.’
‘Tell me about her then,’ I suggested, trying not to pry too much. I was bursting to know more about this girl who had my brother confused, but if I came across as too pushy then I knew Malik would withdraw. ‘I know you think I have no life experience, but maybe I can help you figure things out.’
Malik looked at me sceptically. I knew he thought I was naive because I had never dated, but that didn’t mean I was completely clueless when it came to life.
‘She’s white.’
Oh.
I immediately understood why it was such a big secret. Interracial marriages are a lot more common now than they were when I was growing up, but there are still only two people in our entire extended family married to white people and that was done with a lot of drama, tears and threats of being cast out. The biggest issue was that of religion. If the partner converted, then the more traditional family members were a little placated at least. If they didn’t, certain uncles and aunties were renowned for boycotting weddings and making a big fuss about the scandal.
‘How old is she?’
‘A couple of years older than me,’ he admitted.
Shit. And there went another one. I had no idea how he was going to persuade my parents if things came to that. I tried to be positive, but I knew my parents and my grandmother. This wasn’t going to go down well. ‘How long have you been together?’
‘About a year, on and off.’
‘A year!’ My brother had been going out with a girl for an entire year and I was only finding out about it now? Why hadn’t he told me?
My facial expression must have given my feelings away because he nudged me gently. ‘Telling you would have been too much pressure. I needed to figure things out without you making digs at me or expecting me to propose.’
‘OK,’ I said, taking a deep breath and trying not to feel too hurt by his lack of trust. It wasn’t as though I had told him about Zakariya. It would be hypocritical of me to get offended when I was hiding things myself. ‘Tell me what makes you unsure. Is it the cultural differences? Because you know it can still be done if you really want to. It’ll require a bit more effort and convincing, that’s all.’
Malik thought for a moment, his brows furrowed as he expertly navigated the London streets that were becoming busier as the sun rose higher.
‘There’s the obvious,’ he began. ‘She’s white. She’s not Muslim.’
‘OK,’ I said slowly when he stopped talking. ‘What is she? Christian? Atheist?’
‘She’s agnostic, which I guess is better than being an atheist.’
‘Much better,’ I agreed. ‘The fact that she isn’t sure might mean that she’s open to exploring the concept of faith and religion.’
‘I guess so,’ he said quietly, still thinking.
‘What else?’ I probed gently. ‘What’s she like?’
‘She’s kind and funny. She respects me and I respect her.’
‘So what’s the problem? Why aren’t you sure about her yet? It’s been a year, Malik. If this was an arranged marriage, you probably would have been married six months ago!’
‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘She’s really into her career. She has a full-time job but she has side hustles as well. I like that she’s driven but I’m worried she won’t want a family.’
‘Is this speculation or have you spoken to her about it?’
‘I can’t! If I do, she’ll think I want to marry her and that’s too much pressure.’
Once again, I bit my tongue and tried to hear him out.
‘I’m worried about raising a family with her, Dimple. She could convert to Islam, but she might not be a practising Muslim, you know?’
‘You’re hardly the pillar of piety yourself,’ I couldn’t stop myself from retorting. What the hell was my brother on about? Was he really one of those men who held themselves to one set of rules and had another for the women in their lives? The thought infuriated me and I turned to glower at him, my decision to remain non-judgemental flying out of the window.
‘This is messed-up, Malik,’ I said. ‘Sorry if you don’t want to hear it, or you regret telling me, but I’m your older sister. If I don’t hold you to account or tell you what’s what, then I’m failing you.’
I proceeded to tell him off for his hypocrisy and double standards for the next five minutes. She was good enough to mess around with for over a year, but not marry? My blood was boiling.
‘If you’re not interested in a future with her, she has the right to know so she doesn’t waste her time on you. But the fact that you’ve let it get this far and judged her for things you do yourself, is messed-up!’
We had arrived by this point and Malik had parked behind the private coach, the hazard lights on as he waited for me to finish telling him off.
‘Are you done?’
‘For now!’ I glared at him and got out of the car. ‘Do the right thing, you bloody fool. She doesn’t deserve this!’
As I yanked my fleece undercoat and raincoat out of the backseat, together with my backpack and water bottle, I gave him one last death stare before I got out, still shaking my head in disappointment as he drove away.
There was a queue of people outside the coach, chattering away while warming their hands on travel mugs, and I approached them nervously. I eyed the mugs of tea and coffee with envy. I was too scared to drink a thing that morning in case it made me need the toilet during the journey. Scanning the crowd for Zakariya, I quickly spotted him talking to a really pretty, tall brown girl with shiny jet-black hair tied into a high ponytail. She was dressed like me, but with her height she looked so much better. She laughed at something he said and I felt a twist inside my gut. What was I doing here? This was Zak’s space, not mine. A place where he laughed with women who looked like they belonged on the cover of one of those Asian bridal magazines. I wouldn’t fit in.
As I debated turning around and skulking away, Zak spotted me. Smiling warmly, he beckoned to me and I had no choice but to contain my nerves and walk over to them.
‘Maya! Assalaamu Alaikum! You made it.’