Tasbih Love In Qatar
Meatballs by Zulaikha

The sound of kitchen furniture became an encouraging musical accompaniment for Zulaikha this morning. The aroma of food that is so appetizing meets the kitchen is quite spacious, it may even be not only in the kitchen but the entire contents of the apartment unit which is now his residence while it has been filled by the aroma of the food.

"La.la.la," the random humming that Zulaikha sung made the quiet atmosphere in the place slightly lessened. How not, for the first time he lived alone in an apartment that is very spacious and luxurious, with 3 bedrooms, 1 living room, and, 1 family room and one kitchen that is very brush because it blends with the dining room.

This time, Zulaikha cooked meatballs for breakfast, as well as for him to bring to Nameera, who knew his tongue was a match. Because of the cooking, he did not realize if anyone entered the apartment.

--

"What is this?" tanya Tareeq when she opened the door of her grandfather's apartment unit

"It seems like the smell of cooking, it smells good, sir," replied Ali sniffing the scent while closing his eyes.

"Who's cooking? This apartment is empty" Tareeq said as he walked quickly to the kitchen followed by Ali, who just put his shoulders unknowingly.

Tareeq arrived at the kitchen doorway, from afar he could see a girl busy cooking in long lebanese pajamas with a cooking apron and spiky hair tied over her head.

The man furrowed his brows slightly confused at the whereabouts of the girl. Who her? Why is he here? There was no way it was her sister because her posture was higher than her sister, after all Nameera was still in the hospital, it was very unlikely that she was here.

Tareeq's broad footsteps led him to approach the girl not far behind.

"Who are you?" asked the man in Arabic, the baritone voice of Tareeq immediately surprised Zukaikha.

"Eh goat, goat," said the girl reflexively removed her spatula and turned to the source of the sound. "Goat beard, uh goat beard." Zulaikha was back when he saw the bearded man and the thin bewok in a long shirt suit complete with a tie and loose trousers behind him.

Of course Tareeq was not offended at 'say goat' because he did not understand the Indonesian Zulaikha.

"You? Why are you here?" tareeq asked with a slightly high tone of voice, making the guts of anyone who heard it instantly shrivel.

"Sorry, Grandpa Husein told me to stay here" replied Zulaikha.

"What's? Why didn't Grandpa tell me? Maybe Grandpa forgot?" inner Tareeq.

"When are you here?" asked the man again with a sharp look.

"That's ... That I don't know yet either" Zulaikha replied a little nervously.

"Don't be long, I'm sick of always seeing you," the circus Tareeq then immediately left without waiting for Zulaikha's reply.

"Oh my god, how cruel he is, his grandfather is slow as to why he is rising in tension" Zulaikha grumbled as he stared at the man's departure to the room.

"Room?" Zulaikha immediately ran to follow where Tareeq was going, he was a little worried if the man entered his room. Even Ali who walked not far from Tareeq became a victim of Zulaikha hit-and-run.

"Don't ma...."

Zulaikha stopped her screams when she realized that Tareeq had opened the room door next to her room, she quickly ran back to the kitchen before Tareeq turned towards her with a deadly look.

Ali who had just stood up while tidying up his shirt again became a victim of hit-and-run Zulaikha whose running speed surpassed professional runners.

"Astaghfirullah, ishbir, ishbir (patience, patience)" Ali said as he stroked his chest.

After retrieving the file he was looking for, Tareeq went out with Ali, he really did not want to stay in the house for long where there are women not mahramnya, not only religious rules, not just religious rules, but the laws in his country are quite strict when it comes to such a thing.

That afternoon, Zulaikha walked down the hospital hallway to the VVIP room where Nameera had been moved, knowing it was from Nameera's bodyguard he met in front of the hospital. This time Zulaikha wore black toenote trousers, and was combined with emerald long sleeves and pigtailed hair as usual.

"As.." Zulaikha's speech came to a halt when he realized the doctor was talking to Grandpa Husein inside.

Zulaikha really does not understand what they are talking about because it uses Arabic, if only he used his time to learn maybe he has mastered it at this time considering Zulaikha is a smart girl.

Zulaikha was only able to enter after the doctor came out of Nameera's room. Husein and Nameera's grandfather welcomed the girl with a friendly smile as usual.

"Grandfather, Nameera, I brought my meatballs for you, maybe you like it" Zulaikha said.

"Bakso?" nameera Remanufacture.

"Yes, this is a typical Indonesian meatball, I made it myself rice earlier, do you and Grandpa want to try it?" ask Zulaikha.

"Of course, I like him a lot" replied Nameera so excitedly.

"Do you eat meatballs often?" Zulaikha was a little incredulous, because he thought food like meatballs had never been eaten by Qataris.

"Hahaha, Son. In Doha there are many restaurants that provide meatball menus, but Indonesian meatballs must be the most delicious," said Kakeh Husein, making Zulaikha feel happy and worried. Happy because the taste of his country's food in praise, and worried if the meatballs he made actually broke their expectations.

Zulaikha helped pour the meatballs he brought into the two pecks for Nameera and Grandpa Husein so painstakingly.

"Thank you" said Grandpa Husein and Nameera.

Without forgetting to read the prayer, two people from different generations finally began to taste it. Nameera ate on her bed, and Grandpa Husein ate on the chair beside the bed.

Zulaikha watched their activities with astonishment, whatever they did always started with the words "Bismillah," something he sometimes forgot, even if he read it only when he was going to eat.

"God willing, what a delicious meatball, Zulaikha," said Nameera.

"Thank you Nameera" Zulaikha replied in relief.

Just saying so, Zulaikha was taken aback when he saw fresh blood flowing from Nameera's nose.

"Nameera, you nosebleed."

Husein's grandfather turned to the grandson and pressed the emergency button to call the doctor.

Their meatballs were stopped when the doctor entered the room. Husein and Zulaikha's grandfather walked out of the room not wanting to disturb the doctor who examined Nameera.

"Grandfather, actually Nameera is sick if I may know?" Zulaikha finally dared to ask. He felt Nameera was hiding something from him, what kind of 'normal' illness made him have to be hospitalized and nosebleeds suddenly like that.

Not directly answering, Grandpa Husein let out a heavy breath. "Nameera ... Nameera has leukemia, son."

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Note: Regarding men's daily wear in Qatar, it is common to wear a collared white robe and loose pants, a head covering or turban tied with a black strap called an agal. For men's formal wear, a suit will only be used if there are certain events and business meetings. The standard workwear is a long-sleeved shirt, tie and loose trousers.