Her father was getting more cunning as he got older, not to mention grouchy. The older he got, the more he seemed like a child, only difference is a child has innocence, while he has none. All that could be done was keep silent in his presence to avoid being cursed. Granted this was hard to do, as when a person see batil being committed, they’re obliged to command haqq.
Her mother was getting more quick-tempered and even more sensitive, because she could no longer keep up with his cunning plots. The quick temper was aimed at everyone though, and boy did it hurt at times.
The brothers got along. Amazing. The first time in many years, they actually got along. United by their common goals, they didn’t let the trivial things get them down. The older brother was a focused leader, the younger brother a agreeable follower. How proud they made her…knowing that such men exist in this Ummah.
The sister…she couldn’t help but love her at the end of the day. Gosh, they started of Ramadan with a bad footing, but ended with loving each other. Ya Allah, keep their love for each other always.
Thats family. They’re imperfect, but thats what makes them lovable. Thats what make some lovable.
This has nothing to do with me…just stuff in my head. lol. 🙂