part 7: (nicholas)

**”Bismillahir rahmaanir raheem”
-in the name of Allah, The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful-**

The in-house clown that was hired had his things set-up in 1 corner of the massive garden at the back. Majority of the kids gathered around in anticipation for the show to begin. And once he began, most of the other kids who were occupied with other activities followed suit and joined in the fun…

Nick didn’t find any of the clown tricks amusing at all, he was bored out of his wits sitting right at the back where he wouldn’t be noticed and in no time nick fished out his s4 from his jeans pocket and started a good game of subway surfers..

It was a game that kept you drawn for hours and on your toes.. And it was one of his favourite games amongst others like candy crush..

That’s what entertained him.. Not some childish kids party with clowns and balloons and such things…

About an hour later, nick was so preoccupied with his game that he didn’t even realise that the entire show was over and all the kids were now huddled over and around the long tables that were set in the centre of the garden, parallel to the pool deck.

He was startled when he heard everyone screaming “hip hip…hooray..hip hip hooraaaaay!!!!”

“Urgh… So much for almost reaching my high score” nick mumbled..

The party was all car themed in black,red, yellow and white. There were 4 long tables joined together set with table cloths of the alternating colours. The centre pieces were 2 half tyres with miniature cars driving over on either sides of the joined tables and the middle had a vase with helium balloons of the same colours tied to it..

Its funny how people spend more money on decor nowadays than on anything else for that matter..

Nick dragged himself to where everyone else was and the ferrari cake, also to match the decor, was being cut by the birthday boy who nicked learned, had just turned 7..

The kids were over excited as there was a matching seat for each kid with a balloon attached to it and on the chair lay a black and white checked box which included all kinds of party treats and tiny toys personalised with their names on it..

There was just 1 seat left open and nick figured that it was his. He reluctantly sat down, his face still sulking and didn’t even feel like eating any of the yummy treats that were served..

Deep down he wanted to be like all the kids around him, carefree, happy and friendly. but he felt so out of place. He didn’t know anyone and no-one even bothered to talk to him or notice that he was around. Worst of all, his mother didn’t even care to check if he was okay or wanted to go home already.

He was offered a piece of cake which lay untouched infront of him in the fancy disposable plate that was supplied.

Once the kids were done gobbling down what looked like a very tempting cake like gluttons who had never seen food before in their lives, they all scattered around, either running after eachother, jumping on the ferrari shaped jumping castle or doing their own things..

Nick was once again left alone, or so he thought..

Just as he was about to pull out his phone again to keep himself busy until it was time to leave, which he hoped was soon, 3 very familiar faces appeared infront of him…

“Hey boys! Look who we have here…. If it isn’t the mixed up kid from school…. The crazy wannabe!” One of them said in a macho tone and the other 2 laughed along…

Nick ignored them and got up to walk away without saying anything but they followed behind him and continued with their insults..
“I’m sure nobody wants to be friends with a loser.. That’s why he’s always all alone….”

Nick picked up his pace and tried walking a little faster. He was now nearing the pool deck and finally they seemed to have disappeared.. He was too afraid to turn around and check but it was pretty quiet behind him.

he sighed with relief. Out of all the people, it just had to be the 3 of them, he thought. They’re the same ones that bully him at school, making him wonder why he looks different and has a different surname. They’re always picking on him and nick is too scared to ever stand up for himself…

He’s breathing had just come back to its normal pace and his muscles relaxed when he was suddenly ambushed and thrown into the deep end of the olympic size pool…

And to top it all off, he didn’t even know how to swim…..

Posted by silent living…


8 thoughts on “part 7: (nicholas)”

  1. إسلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته hope you well
    جزاك الله خير for the lovely post
    I hope nick is good and well
    enjoying the blog


  2. Jazakallah for being such a dedicated blogger. You put a lot into making sure that you post regularly and we readers appreciate it.

    I just need to clarify or understand something…..being mixed does not necessarily mean that you are going to be a bad muslim with loose morals. If someone is reffered to as malay… do people have the understanding that one parent was an indian muslim and the other was not?

    I appreciate you bringing in debatable issues, I just need to clarify that not all” mixed muslims” are umpracticing muslims. Many “malay” people are actually very deeni inclined and try to live up to and follow the sunnah. If one is reffered to as Malay….it also doesn’t mean that one parent is muslim and one is not.


    1. Jzkallah sister for the comment..

      Maaf if that’s the message that you received from the story that far but that’s not at all what I was trying to get at…

      Note that nick and his mother are NOT muslim and my idea is to make them characters with no morals or low morals as part of the story and as the story unfolds you will understand why…

      Another point to remember is that they were not malay at all… Tashas mum was a beautiful african woman who married an indian man and became a muslim… she was shunned out by typical indian mentality once her husband passed away and then left the fold of islam because of the terrible way her muslim inlaws portrayed islam…

      There was never any mention of malay…and wether a person is malay, indian, arab, spanish, turk… It makes no difference if we are muslim.. Because Allah doesn’t look at what country or nationality we come from but rather at our deeds and actions as muslims..

      Let me know if anything is still unclear and I’ll deff try my best to clarify….

      Jx for taking the tym to read the blog and also to bring in the issue that you have…


  3. Assalaamualaikum .. Really enjoying this new story thus far. Completely understand what its like not being ‘PROPER’ indian as only both my grandfathers were indian. I understand what you are trying to put across with regards to the mixed races. but as sister Zee said : If someone is reffered to as malay… do people have the understanding that one parent was an indian muslim and the other was not? Not sure what she means .. did a lot of malays marry into the indian community during apartheid ? or just a few including my grandfather.. How else did malays come into being? I always thought they were from malaysia and thought only a few married indian muslims lol blonde me. (someone help my brain understand)..please? I didn’t know anything about racist indians till after my teens meeting people in the indian community who keep wanting to know who your parents are. Alhamdulillah, through Allahs wisdom and my fathers teachings, I was fortunate to be amongst the very few of my generation mocked for being ‘pious’ .. Possibly the reason I became an introvert like Nicholas. May Allah help us rear our own kids without the racist tendencies, able to see past colour and accept every Muslim as they come Aameen. sorry for the long comment


    1. Wslm sister. You don’t have to apologise for the long comment, I have to say jx for the long comment.
      Its a wonderful thing to discuss. I hope others can participate and fill us in.
      Let me tell u wat my thoughts on malays were. Initially I used to think that malays were people that came from cape town. But then I had friends from bosmont and eldos and the like. Then I was confused and came to the conclusion that maybe their parents or grandparents etc were from cape town. And then I became good friends with someone who’s from cape town but not malay. She’s a thorough bred indian. So I’m still utterly sumone can enlighten us regarding the history of malays. Btw.. I also once heard something about them coming from malaysia I doubt there’s any truth in that


  4. True I thought before they were all from Cape Town but later realized it can’t be only people from c.t because they use words from the malaysian language like Labarang, terima kassie (trammakassie) and a whole lot of other words we still hear and have also become distorted thats why i thought they came over from that side of the world.. hope others can shed some light


    1. Ok ok… So I did my homework this weekend and it turns out that our assumptions were correct.
      You see, from what I’ve learnt.. Many years ago, malaysians were brought to south africa, more specifically cape town to work as slaves. So malays are actually malaySIAN. That’s why u say so many words are similar.


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