Ahyan - Muslim Male

(Author's Note: as a non-Muslim and non-Arab, any terms I try to use in this story have just been hastily googled. Authenticity is not guaranteed at all. If you know better and want to correct me though, please go ahead and let me know and I’ll edit as appropriate)

You read over the last change you had made to your special Quran, the Holy Book of Islam, trying not to smile too widely.

“Mama!” you called out. The voice carried through the house and you could hear footsteps travel up the stairs. When your mother appeared in the doorframe she saw you sitting on the edge of your bed. She seemed a little confused at first due to the urgency of your voice.

“What is it, abnay (my son)?” your mother asked. For a moment you didn’t answer her, just took in her vaguely concerned, beautiful face, faintly made-up with soft pink lipstick and faded plum eyeshadow. They contrasted strikingly with her almost grey green eyes. The rest of her head was covered in a forest green hijab of course, concealing her hair and neck and shoulders. And the rest of your mother was draped by a long blue dress, made from some kind of soft crushed fabric. The entire outfit covered everything but her hands and tried to make her look as featureless as possible, but you suspected that your mother deliberately got a slightly smaller cut so the dressed hugged a little tighter in certain places. Right now you also felt tight at a particular place.

“I have an erection,” you announced to your mother flatly. Again a bit of confusion creased her visible forehead, then those eyes widened when she realised what you had just said.

“Ahyan!” she cried out, uttering your name in sort of shocked admonishment. “Don’t tell me things like that!” She made a clicking noise with her tongue, shaking her head. “Is that some sort of joke? Na Uzo Billah!” Her quickly indignant reaction made you smile. Allah protect us indeed.

“No joke,” you said calmly, to which those thick but perfectly sculpted eyebrows of your mother got sharper. “I’m 18 now, remember?” was your reminder. This served to only confuse her more and now she was running short on words, so you went on. “Did you forget, Umi (my mother)? What it says in the Quran?”

At the mention of the Holy Text your mother’s demeanor shifted slightly. The consternation in her face softened and she looked away, like one does when they are trying to recall something. She blinked a few times as her ‘memory’ returned. The new knowledge became known to her. The truth. She raised a hand to her mouth at the realisation which, even though she had ‘always’ known, still came as at a shock to her.