Before We Knew

Quiet Intentions

The air had turned softer, warmer. Spring hadn’t arrived yet, but its footsteps could be felt in the gentle breeze and brighter mornings.

Ruhi sat on the edge of the windowsill in her room, a soft spiral-bound notebook open in her lap. The pages were filled with scribbles—quotes, to-do lists, dua, and notes to herself. Her pen hovered as she stared outside, lost in thought.

She’d been praying more intentionally lately. Not just the routine prayers, but those whispered ones after—hands raised, heart clear. Ya Allah, if it’s good for me, make a way.

Her scholarship application wasn’t public knowledge. Only Sidro knew, and even that had happened by accident when she’d seen one of the university pages open on Ruhi’s phone.

“You’re serious about this?” Sidro had asked one evening, sitting cross-legged on her bed.

Ruhi had nodded. “Yeah. I want to try. I don’t want to regret not trying.”

Sidro hadn’t said much after that, just nodded and offered to help with anything she needed. It meant a lot more than words could’ve.

Now, as she sat there, Ruhi glanced down at the page where she’d written Canada Application – Final Essay Draft. The cursor blinked on her screen. Waiting. Just like she was.

Downstairs, her mother’s voice called faintly, asking if she’d prayed Asr. She set the notebook aside gently, rolled her sleeves, and whispered Bismillah as she stood.

Later that evening, she met Sidro outside their apartment complex. The sky had dimmed into a soft shade of blue, clouds scattered like delicate brush strokes. They walked in quiet rhythm beneath the flickering streetlamps.

“Do you think,” Sidro began after a while, kicking a small pebble ahead, “if we both go our separate ways after graduation, we’ll still be friends?”

Ruhi glanced sideways, surprised by the question. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I think so. I mean… we’re not the kind of friends that disappear.”

Sidro folded her arms, huddling into her jacket. “It’s just—things are going to change soon. Everyone’s talking about applications and universities. Even Irfan’s been acting weirdly serious lately.”

“Have you decided what you want to do?” Ruhi asked.

Sidro hesitated. “I thought I had. But now, I don’t know. My dad wants me to study medicine, but I don’t think I have the heart for it. You, though… you always seem so sure.”

Ruhi smiled faintly. “I’m not always sure. I just… pray about it. And I try not to get too scared.”

“That’s what I mean,” Sidro said, her voice softer now. “You move with quiet confidence. Like you’re not shouting about your goals, but they’re there. Real.”

Ruhi looked down, a little shy under the compliment. “It’s not always confidence. Sometimes it’s just… faith. Hoping that if I try, Allah will make it work.”

They walked a few more steps before Sidro reached out and gently linked their arms. “Promise me we won’t grow apart.”

Ruhi squeezed her arm lightly. “Promise.”

A silence settled over them again—but this one was full of peace. Not everything needed to be said aloud.