Gunnah e Shab

3. Promise • وعدہ

The dream of my life is to lie down by a slow river and stare at the light in the trees — to learn something by being nothing - Mary Oliver

Foggy winter mornings. An overflowing cup of Kashmiri tea. Crisp bakarkhani, bought from the markets at Bhatti gate. A worn out sunday magazine. Hushed whispers. Giggles and secrets exchanged. Mundane things that made her life whole. Each of them was a jigsaw puzzle that connected and formed her personality. The steaming cup of tea with the smell of cardamom and flavour of spices infused sat on her tounge and rolled into her throat like a warm blanket covers one in the dead of the wintery nights.

Laila relished in the flavour of the tea, her head resting against her sister's shoulder. The two staring at the rust walls of the Badshahi Mosque. The thick grey fog had descended over its large courtyard. Only its tall minarets rising out. Down in the street, men with their carts had begun to come out. Tourists visiting the nearby streets for breakfasts. It was fascinating, that all of them on the same place lived lives of different kinds. Their perspectives were like white and black, a clear distinction in between.

"How did ustaad give you a day off?" [Teacher] Ayna looked at her.

Laila winked, hiding her face behind the off white mug. Her ear piercings dazzling as a ray of light fell on them.

"What he doesn't know, won't hurt him," she winked.

Speaking as if it were the most obvious of facts. Ayna slapped her lightly on the head, a smile creeping on her own face.

"Fairy Meadows. Yeh kidhr hai?" [Where is this?] Laila looked at her elder sister.

Motioning to the advertisement for a resort printed in the magazine. Its pages yellowed from the overuse. It was Laila's favourite magazine, she had read through it countless times, finding something interesting everytime.

"In the mountains". Ayna replied.

Her fingers dipping a piece of the fried dough into her tea. Relishing the flavour with each bite.

"Ayna baaji ap idhr gai thi na?" [Ayna sister you went there right?] Laila tilted her head.

Her eyes held a sheen of innocence. Her eyes losing focus as she thought about the time three years ago. Asma Bi and her daughters had accompanied the group of dancers. There was a huge party there and the men were supposed to be extremely rich and willing to pay a lot of money. That had been Ayna's first time and when they came back, the life in Ayna's eyes had dimmed.

"Hmm," she replied absent minded.

"One day I'll take all three of us here for a vacation!" Laila cheered, enthusiastically.

Ayna passed her a half hearted smile. Tears rushing into her eyes as she thought about her experience there. A bitterness filling her mouth as she wiped at her eyes harshly.

"That is if Asma Bi let's us," Ayna tapped her head.

"Tch—think big! Hum na apna randi khana daal letay hain. Phir khoob sair karein gai!" [We should open our own brothel. Then we'll travel a lot!] Laila clapped her hands.

"And whose going to pay the lifelong debt we owe Asma?" Their mother's shrill voice called out.

The two sisters immediately turned around. Their thick shawls drooping as they stared at their huffing mother. Sarah stood at the staircase with hands on her hips. Breathing harshly, her eyebrows raised in question. She stumbled over the overgrown weeds on the roof, standing right infront of them. Sarah pinched their ears, a gentleness in her actions as she glared.