Anniversary Thoughts 1

I don’t exactly know why, but as the date commemorating the first anniversary of our wedding nears, I kept remembering stuff from my wedding, and yes, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting on our journey. So, I’m going to share snippets of this and that, so please, bear with me, okay?

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When I first told some close friends that I was going to marry an ustaz – as in a real Islamic teacher, and not just someone nicknamed ustaz – many asked me to consider it thoroughly before making any firm decision. When asked why were they so worried – the answer was almost always the same – “A.Z., you are too worldly for an ustaz”

By worldly – they were referring to stuff I’ve done and stuff I’m into. To them, they could not imagine an ustaz who, given a choice, would like to marry a girl who is so into outdoor stuff (mountain climbing, repelling, abseiling… and if permitted, I would very much like try white water rafting/skydiving at least once), who has chaired regional meetings and who has always been rather vocal about her thoughts and opinions. To them, a typical ustaz would have preferred someone who’s much more quieter, sweeter and more demure. Someone more prm and proper than I could ever be. To quote one friend, “it’s not like you are not a good person A.Z., it’s just that most male just could not handle us for being smart, straightforward and sassy...”

To be honest, I’ve always liked worldly guys with some ala ustaz’s features – who can lead a prayer, lead an usrah, read the khutbah… basically someone I can look up to as an Imam. So, yes, ideally I was looking for a brilliant, outspoken, worldly guy with some ustaz’s characteristics, who I can respect and don’t mind being submissive to. People have always labeled me to be rather strong-willed and hardheaded, but the truth is – all along I have no problem being submissive; I just need someone who’s worth it. Someone I look up to high enough. Still, up until then, I’d never thought that I would even consider marrying a real ustaz myself. The mere mention of ustaz conjured a typical image – a rather reserved, shy and alim person clad in baju melayu and kopiah or songkok.

Nevertheless, perhaps having two aunts in the family (an architect and an accountant) whose marriages to ustazs work out well was a contributing factor that made me less worried about marrying an ustaz. After all, in the end, it turned out that my hubby is not a typical Ustaz himself. He’s not too alim for me and I’m not too worldly for him.

We’re just right for each other.