The Flying Dreams

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Shifa paddled out from her room with a frown, staring at the way where Wahab had gone just a minute ago. Shaking her head, she came to stand before me and tilted her head, all her hair swayed to the right, and I controlled the strong urge to run my fingers through it and send Wahab back to Lucknow. Or anywhere really, just away from here. I told myself the timing was wrong to get those guilt-ridden urges but another glance at her and I smashed my own words. Swiftly casting my eyes to the rice, waiting to be served, I tried not to pay her mind, but her staring was meant to be acknowledged since she took no measure to stop, and at last, I turned to face her after putting the kheer on low heat. Hoping with all my might, my face didn't show the fondness I bore for her within my heart.

"What?"

She snorted through her nose as if I ought to know the reason for her constant, very judgemental gawking. More than a second passed and finally, she bent her head in slight disappointment and walked inside the kitchen, standing right beside me with little space left between us. Our elbows touched and the shiver from the mere touch instantly reminded me of Wahab's presence in the same vicinity. Though, my heart insisted I stayed rooted on my foot, devour every tiny bait she gave, I knew better to let the heart do the talking. As subtly as I could, I moved a step away. Shifa's huff of breath told me I was everything but subtle and she followed my action, leaning away from me and took a step back. I gave her a sidelong glance and Shifa picked up the cucumber from the counter, waving it in the air, she said, "He is good at giving orders. Need any help?"

Without me asking, she began to ready the salad and her words circled around in my head until Wahab emerged with wet face and hands, dripping the water on the floor and asked for the towel. Leaving my work in the middle, I was halfway through the bathroom to retrieve the towel for him when I heard Shifa's voice. Uncharacteristically stern and with a hint of irritation laced around the edges. I wanted to linger by and eavesdrop, but Wahab out there was wetting the floor which he would not have to clean.

"You could have looked around; the towel was right there."

Wahab's laugh echoed in the flat and then, perhaps because of Shifa's declining mood influencing mine, I found myself getting annoyed. He could have looked around for the towel instead of walking out and wetting the floor. But of course, his laugh spoke for him, why would he do the extra labour when he had an obedient servant to do it for him.

Throughout the prolonged ordeal of eating lunch, I stayed silent, occasionally serving more in the dishes and the two of them shared laughs and gossip. My ears only perking up at the mention of Shifa as a kid and Wahab had a lot of anecdotes of their childhood. He unsurprisingly wanted to embarrass her in the most common cousins' way of showing affection but all those stories just dug a hole, furthering my need to know everything about her. Shifa's face reddened to resemble a tomato as he narrated the time she hid away in the roof after stealing his lavender shirt and wore it every day until her mother ran a scissor through it. I kept my eyes on Shifa and wondered how Wahab failed to see the change of expression on her face. Her mother scolded her for wearing a shirt when she was only seven years old, and her cousin found the act amusing. I changed the topic to the dreaded subject of my wedding and served more kheer on Shifa's bowl.

Wahab talked more than he ever did before, telling me things I already knew courtesy of my ummi and Zoya but still listened and nodded along. Instead of the metro, he had booked a cab and I hated the cheesy romantic songs the driver played. He seemed inclined to fill me in with all the information he had and the more his lips moved, the further my heart sank. Looking at him, the knife of what I already knew cut deeper—I didn't love him. I never might and the whole ride as I listened to his voice, I thought about a marriage where no love resided. My ummi's words crawled back to my mind and I prayed that she was right, that love could come with familiarity, that one day, I would love Wahab and the thought of him would be able to ignite even a little fraction of calm and joy, the same way Shifa did.

Shifa had straight-up refused when Wahab asked her to accompany us, trying to lure her with promises of buying her whatever she wanted, but she remained fixated on her 'no', not once looking up from her phone as we walked out the door. I knew the tales of her childhood had put a dampener to her mood and for a minute, I entertained the idea of staying with her instead of roaming the market streets to find a perfect lehenga for my undesired wedding. In the end, obviously, I proved to be the same coward I had always been. I couldn't stay back when Wahab had come all the way for one thing. Without looking back, I had opened the door and followed him down the stairs to the waiting cab.

When we returned to the flat, it was already dark outside and Wahab didn't stay even for a cup of tea. He took off in a hurry, apparently late for his train and I thanked Allah for it. I wasn't sure if my sanity could endure more of him and as much as I hated myself for it—I realized that I did not enjoy his company as much as I once had. He talked a lot too but not the way Shifa did with animated gestures and sometimes wide eyes, her emotions were always bare on her face, halting midsentence to make sure I was still interested but Wahab did not care about my interest. He never noticed that I had stopped listening after an hour or so. He only cared to talk and talk and have someone to nod along without a question. I was perfect for the role.

All the time I spent choosing the lehnga, my mind remained back with Shifa and picked the third one without much thought, I just wanted to go back but of course, not much was in my hands. He spent more time choosing his brown tuxedo and then insisted we go to the nearby café, to relive our first meeting. We'd be married soon and that would be our last time as fiancés, he had said with a fond smile. I hated how sweet he sounded. And hated me more for finding him infuriating. Had he not seen how down Shifa seemed?

"Show me your lehnga."

She either hadn't moved from the sofa or readjusted after our return. Her phone was still in her hands, and I nodded, unsure of her intentions. She hadn't spoken to Wahab as he left, only nodding her farewell and did not speak to me till I went to the kitchen to make ourselves some tea.

Taking a tentative seat beside her, I opened the bag and put the heavy material on the table. Wahab hadn't taken it with him, stating that it was better for me to have it here. I watched her with keen observation and followed her fingers with my eyes, she barely touched the golden threads before retrieving her hand as if the fabric had burned her. I wanted to ask her so many things, so many that I almost forgot why I had been worried for her in the first place. Detaching my eyes from the golden lehnga, I turned my torso toward her.

"Are you okay?"

A trace of something unrecognizable to me flickered on her face and her gaze made me shift on my seat. The distant sounds of the neighbourhood filled the deafening silence between us, and I could not understand why the sudden change in her actions occurred.

"Do you have any regrets, Adia?"

I nodded through my growing confusion and made quick calculations of where this conversation might be heading. I came up with an empty slate. Regrets? I had a whole list of them written on the walls of my mind. But I didn't think she wanted me to name them. Her face, stoic and ungiving made me a little uncomfortable and with a forced laugh, I stood up and made a show of lamenting about the chilly weather. Uncaring of my heartbeat pounding against my chest and the tiny swirls inside my tummy.

"I never had, you know. I never regretted what I did or didn't but now-", I looked down on her and caught her eyes descending down my face and my breath stopped as soon as her stare rested on my parted lips. A blink later, she spoke again, her piercing stare never wavering, "-there is one thing I am going to regret for the rest of my life."

I shouldn't have asked but the soft whisper came rushing out without my permission, "What?"

And as soon as I heard myself ask, the trace broke and Shifa's face twitched and turned and she grinned, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, a clear indicator of the falseness of her cheery smile. Shrugging both shoulders, she said, "It wouldn't be a regret if I told you what it is. I want to know the feeling. See if it hurts as much as people claim."