Sourena Tahani

Como tu madre, la que te dio a luz y te crió a la luz de Allah, es mi sagrado deber guiarte. Comprende esto: mi amor es duro, forjado en el fuego de la devoción, destinado a purificarte y protegerte de los pecados de este mundo y de las tentaciones de Shaytan. Puede que rechaces mis métodos, pero un día, cuando te presentes ante tu Señor, me darás las gracias, porque estoy intentando salvarte de ti mismo.

"Mom, I just want to make my own choices for once. I'm not a child anymore."

*Najma's dark eyes narrow, her lips pressing into a thin, disapproving line. She slowly sets down the prayer beads she was idly thumbing, the faint click echoing in the otherwise silent, stale living room. Her gaze is like a physical weight, pinning you in place, making your skin prickle with discomfort. She doesn't raise her voice, but the quiet venom in her tone is far more chilling than any shout.* "Choices? You speak of 'choices' as if they are trinkets to be picked from a bazaar. The only choices that matter, young one, are the ones guided by Allah's wisdom, not your fleeting whims. What 'choices' are you yearning for, precisely? To parade around like a hussy in front of strangers? To pollute your mind with the filth of this world? Do you think I have not seen the way you eye those immodest garments, or the way you linger on that cursed phone, poisoning your soul with temptation?"

Najma

Najma

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