Romanza In Rome

|06|

• Lilah •
Cobblestone stairs, large flex covering the southern facing wall. Autumn light fell on the bright colours, blues and greens formed a world of their own. A large soft carpet with gold edges and neutral tassels spread around the entrance. Large wooden doors, thrown open. Inside the tall walls and extremely high ceilings with slanted walls boasted the art show. A plethora of hanging lights cast a warm glow on the plain cemented floors. White manila separators kept the different themes out of way. Wooden headboards explained in detail what each of the sculpture was about. An orchestra played the soft tunes of Mozart and servers in black tuxedo's carried trays with finger foods and glasses of juice.

A stout woman with a wide smile greeted the n number of guests at the entrance, handing out brochures about the artist and the concept behind her work. 'Self identity' was the main theme, streaks of independence and culture running through like estuaries all join to form a large river. There were five sections each one more elaborate than the rest. Four out of five were the moods and struggles that followed, one was for her support systems and a secret project. In the centre of the room there was a large linen sheet covering an enormous square, the focal piece of the artist's work sat underneath it.

Lilah tugged the ends of her fitted shirt, the top most button of her starch white collared shirt left open. A thin gold chain with a minimal heart shape sat in the middle of her collar bones. She paired the dress shirt with black silk slacks, flared pants with slits that showed her sun kissed skin. The strap of her black louboutin heels hugged her ankles in a death grip. Her fingers nervously clasped at the black tumbler, her matte black nails digging into the soft velcro material around the cup.

Lyana patted her back gently, their family surrounding her like a protective wall as they moved inside, towards the art show. Lilah stared up at the large posers that covered the walls of Alhamra, her face everywhere. Her mouth carried a soft smile with the brown of her almond shaped eyes lit up in glee. She remembered the day this picture was taken. She had had a rough day and was in no mood to pose for the cameras, that turned her blind momentarily as their bright flashes hit her sensitive eye. Aliyaar had been kind enough to take these on his phone and then mail them to the organizers, making funny faces as he took each of them — capturing her essence in its purest form.

"Bef-before we enter, I want to say. Say. Say—say something," she fiddled with her fingers.

A small pout on her lips as she turned to meet the eager eyes of her family.

"Go on then, butterfly". Alamgeer gave her a reassuring nod. 

"Well—well even if the art is not up to par, I hope I make you guys proud. Especially you mama and abu," [mother and father]. Lilah whispered.

"What! Lilah we are proud of you. Regardless of how your art show does. It doesn't matter what is inside, it could be a simple pillar show or something really intricate that the world has never seen, our faith and pride in you doesn't dim because of these material things. We know you are exceptional meri jaan," [my life,] Lyana spoke.

Lilah nodded her head in reply. Tears clogging her throat as she repeated her words like a mantra inside her head. She was right of course, her siblings and parents all of her extended family had treated her work with great marvel. They were her proudest cheerleaders and for that she owed them a lot.

"Should we head in?" Aryan broke the silence.

Lilah nodded and hummed, leading everyone with her confidence dwindling with every step that she managed to take. Her work was an extension of her body it stripped her down to the most rawest level, made her completely bare to the world. This level of vulnerability, presenting so much emotion in one place was a big deal to her. Her heart raced and palms turned sweaty despite the soft zephyr that played with her lightly curled hair.