Brothers and Elders

Subhan’Allah what a blissful evening I had yesterday. I made a simple dinner and was waiting for my husband to come home, when he walked through the door with my dad and both my uncle and some cousins. Doesn’t sound like a big deal but I was over the moon.

Since my gran passed away, I always wonder how the brothers are going to hold onto one another and keep their family ties strong let alone alive. Immersed in their own lives, each with their own opinions – one with a strong sufi-ana streak in him, another a tablighi jamaat follower, the third not really following any strict path but married to a stringent salafi. I did wonder if they would just go their own ways with no-one making any effort and their kids not bothering either.

Last night I was pleasantly surprised and honoured. I think partly my dad had seen my mum’s family come together over the abduction of my uncle and seen the shortcomings on his side of the family, partly there are times when there is peace and comfort from having your brothers and sisters around you and maybe he longed for such a feeling.

In any case, my house has rarely been the place where all three brothers meet to share a meal (except when my gran lived with me and my home was the families meeting place). Last night they breezed in bearing naan and chicken curry, I rushed to offer what I had – tandoori chicken, chappati’s, brown lentils and salad – serving everything quickly worried that they would disappear if I took too long. A long meal followed full of stories and talk – some laughter, some reminiscing of childhood and their mother, my beloved gran – gratefulness at the peacefulness way she went. Of course there was also talk of religion with the youngest staying silent and the other two skirting around sensitive areas.

I am usually the last to finish eating, but I stuffed my food down and ran to the kitchen to cut fruit and put the tea on hoping to keep them there a little longer. I just could not take the smile off my face. So many times we have all argued, angered each other, stopped talking and stopped meeting each other. Each time my gran has cajoled us to end the quarrel. This time the three houses and the sons of two more were under one roof, genial and sympathetic to each other. Gran was right – your blood draws you back to each other whether you like it, or each other or not. Alhamdulillah.

Who have you stopped talking to? One call, one card or one little visit to say hi and see they are okay is all it takes. They might even reject you, as more than one relation has done to me the first time, but we can try again right?