He could not bathe in it because God poured a lot of water on him, so he went to the hypo clinic and washed the toilet with his own hands and mixed the water for bathing. He bathed in a hurry because of the rush of time, he said that no matter how much he wanted to go out, the time was almost over for him, the second thing he hated was that he lost his temper, he came out and just threw on a jalabiya and hurriedly left.

               He could not remember missing the evening prayer even when he was in the ruqayya section, because whatever he wanted, she would provide for him before he needed it. There was a huge gap between her and him, he tried his best to pretend to be fair and hide it in his dealings with them as much as he could, but not even once did Zainab's eyes fail to see it.

             She always spoke one to two, Ruqayya dominated him, that's why she only wanted what she wanted, he didn't seem fair between them despite her efforts to be kind to him. He was at a loss for what kind of justice she was seeking after this? What did she want him to do to her? With this thought in mind, he reached the mosque, took off his shoes and entered.

               He did not enter the house until after the Isha prayer, because he had no intention of staying in the house the entire time.

              He just looked at her with a sad look, nodded as he walked inside and put down his prayer mat. Sanda returned to the living room with the intention of sitting down, nothing else was bringing him food, he looked at the kitchen as if he was going to speak and then looked up again. This was one of the reasons why he always, by God, whenever he would go around her backyard, he would see a bunch of dirty rats, flies and other small insects parading around doing whatever they wanted. No matter how much he tried to describe her, she stopped but it was impossible, in short, the food from her store was the first to end up in the house. Not to mention the food, he could say almost anything.

              As always, she dressed herself in a simple Pakistani shirt and pants, very soft and light in color, the small veil that came with the outfit, so thin that you could see her hair, which was tied in a band, she covered her head, she applied her perfume oil and rubbed it on her body and started towards the door of the room.

            Tuntuni Saleem made Haneefa call the children, and Fateema Iftee followed them. Being children, they rarely worried about the taste of food, even though they realized that no one was talking to her because she didn't give them the courage to talk to her.

               With a trembling head and a trembling heart, she led the way to arrange the food on the table mat they spread on the ground. Today, she had hope and was most certain that she would give Saleem something he had never received from the ruqayya.

                His mind was on the phone answering the call while she was walking. Instead of his scent becoming her companion whenever she would go to bed, the opposite happened. Even though she had taken a bath, which could be called a bath that was soaked in water, her mother and father had sweated while finishing cooking together, she didn't even wear alum or perfume, and the clothes she had taken off yesterday had changed her body, according to her since it was night and they were going to bed, she didn't have to waste her washed clothes. The smell mixed with the dampness of the clothes, causing something that looked like a little bit of smoke to rise up.

               As soon as he finished the call, Ruqayyan said goodbye softly. He turned off the phone and put it aside, smiling slightly. Her face turned pale again.

"Welcome home, Mama Haneefa," she said with a smile.

"Yesterday," she replied, due to the dignity of Saleem's eyes, but her voice was short and low, her heart ached at the sight of her in the house. For the love of her life, he had already despised her, even if it was only today that they would have their only meal together.

            She sat down on the side, and greeted him gently. His eyes were slightly closed as he responded to her with care, which moved Zainab's heart, so she pushed the plate of food towards him, grunting. She hated the dressing of the ruqayya, she thought if she had the right and power, she would definitely set her clothes on fire and burn them to ashes.

             She wanted to protest against this, but she felt that even if she did, it would be a futile effort, like wandering in the dark. The day they started talking about it, she complained to Saleem, but his answer was not good for her.

"But I don't understand the beauty that Alhassan's mother is wearing, after eating, she was said to have come without showing off her makeup," she said, her face devoid of any humor, because the only thing that was bothering her at that time was the look that Saleem had with him. She had heard it said that black clothes do not look good on black people, but today she herself denied that because the black outfit made her look so beautiful.

"What's up, brother? She's probably just a little bit clean, and she's had her days of being clean, but she doesn't understand?" Sarai understood as if he was trying to tease her, so she turned around and looked at him again, frowning.

“If she grows up to be a duck for the king of the bath, but she can stand the days of her cooking, I have not entered anyone's palace, and neither will she enter mine.”

"I would never tell her to stop dressing up if that's your wish, and if you do, no one will stop you. I welcome that and I'll be more than happy to do so, so if you want to be a scoundrel," he said, then went to the toilet and left.

"The mouth of the jar" she repeated, being a woman who was afraid of the consequences of her actions and the pain of her life. She picked up her phone because she could not calm down from what he said. She opened her data and joined their group and answered the question after a brief explanation of what had happened.

         Within five minutes, a series of answers came out, the group being a group that did not share with the public, the answers that came directly to her with the meaning of what Saleem meant. She put down the phone and went back to the mirror and sat looking at herself. For days, she could not understand what she had done to make him look so serious, why did she bow and leave without a black face?