It was weird to talk about it. When she was a young girl, religion was a family fair. It had all been passed down from children, to children and so on. Her brother had always been against it, he just didn’t believe in anything superior, her sister was a good follower, respecting all the rules and maybe even more than Mina had ever done, she had gone back home, both for religious purposes and not for those either. Mina walked a tight rope every day, it was a while before she came to the conclusion that the same god who gives, is the one who takes away, but death, albeit natural, when knocked on her family’s door, seemed to have done so at a wrong date.
It had been a few months since she had decided to come back to islam, her father had begged and reasoned with her that there was still something there, inside of her, that was unable to throw it all away and he wasn’t entirely wrong, she could still feel it, if she closed her eyes, no matter how much she wanted it to not be a part of her life. Still, every time she was faced with the intimidating mosque and the number of people coming in and going out at all times, she backed away immediately. It took her a while to just keep staring at it, and she thought she was going insane, but seeing that someone was going through the same tribulations as her, made a smile flash on her features. She was not alone, after all.
“For what is worth, it’s a really beautiful blouse and it might not be totally ruined,” or maybe it was, Mina’s fashion was much less glamorous than the other woman’s and she envied that a bit, but she dressed for comfort most of the times, and her collection of sneakers spoke for itself. “Okay, we can definitely do that,” the brunette agreed with a small nod of her head and while pressing her teeth on her bottom lip she took another longing look at the mosque, another day, another time, she guessed. Resolved to get the hell out of there, she allowed her feet to take her, motioning for the other to follow. “I can never go inside, I’ve been working up the courage for a few months now, but I end up just staring at it like a deer looking at headlights,” she shrugged with her hands inside her pockets, “I never thought it would be so hard to come back, you know? But it just seems to be an invisible barer between me and that door.”
Their faith had always toed a line of being a defining factor in the Sheikh-Mousavi household and not. From Jasmine’s father, the expectation for his daughters was obvious and when he was around, the family always had to go the extra mile. Even though none of the daughters wore headscarves ninety percent of the time, if they went out as a family with their father, it was not just encouraged, but enforced by him. When they were just with Gabriella, Jasmine’s mother, everything was much more relaxed and that was the faith that Jasmine missed. But every time she thought about trying to go back to that, she was reminded of just how much was forced on her as well.
Without any family left on the island and the one sister she was close to not really following the religion anymore, Jasmine had been pretty much left on her own to deal with her anxieties about it. That was, it seemed, until now.
“You’re fine, honestly, I have a magician for a dry cleaner and if he can’t sort it out, then I can just buy a new one, I’m sure.” She tried not to look back at the mosque but she couldn’t help it, reminded of just how beautiful it was. One day soon, she promised herself, she’d find the courage to go inside. “I haven’t been inside since I was eighteen and it was far from the experience I want to remember.” Nodding, Jasmine looked over at the girl, wondering if she had found a kindred spirit in her. “I get that, when I’m on my way I always think, this is it, you’re finding your way back and then.. Nothing, I can’t do it and I’m reminded of all the reasons I stayed away in the first place.” Nibbling on her bottom lip, the girl breathed out a sigh. “It’s actually so nice to speak to someone about it, someone who gets it. How long has it been for you?”
