The clock struck six. As scheduled, the guests came promptly that evening. However, due to a traffic jam, my parents arrived home half an hour later. That evening marked the first time our parents met. At first, all was well or so I thought based on the conversation that went over dinner. Then the unexpected happened.
At around 7.45pm, an expression of displeasure marked her father’s face. By 8.00pm, he dropped a bomb on us and asked solemnly, “Are you all not praying Maghrib?”
Read More