His Guiding Star

Nineteen

Manha

Aaban left for England three nights ago. Three nights ago was also the last time I heard from him. No texts, no calls, but I couldn't even blame him when I hadn't made a move myself.

"These are enough, don't you think?" Salma Aunty's voice snapped me out of my head.

"What?" I hadn't been hearing what she said.

"The chips, Manha. Are these enough?" We'd filled five large bowls with packets of Lay's, all different flavors. "Aaj kal kahan khoyi rehti hain aap?"

*"Where do you stay lost nowadays?"

I smiled and shook my head, stealing one chip for the yogurt and herbs bowl. "Kahin nahi, Aunty."

*"Nowhere, Aunty."

However, Salma Aunty didn't look like she believed me even a bit, and settled for passing me a knowing smile. "Okay, so these are all the chips. The other packets are in the pantry. I've plated the cookies too. I should go now," she quickly washed her hands and wiped them on a towel. I'd offered her to stay but she'd refused, saying she wanted to watch the match with her son and his family back home.

I hugged her goodbye and walked her to the door. Already, my hands were getting clammy at the idea of being a host, all by myself. I'd invited over my father, my parents-in-law, and my sister-in-law with her family over for a casual get-together to watch the match together. Everyone had easily agreed with the idea, and it had only later clicked to me how hard it would be to arrange it all without disappointing anyone.

I began to close the door but the guard rushed up to me. "Bhabhi, bahar Waleed Sahab ki gaari aayi hai."

*"Bhabhi, Waleed Sahab's car is outside."

"Toh aap yahan kya kar rahe hain? Gate kholein!" I ran a quick hand down my hair, letting it follow to the cricket jersey I wore-stolen from Aaban's closet after another mission of sneaking in, except the room had been empty this time. I smoothened down the scarf I'd put around my neck too, before stepping out of the foyer and down the front steps. A white Land Cruiser rolled in, and Eliza Appi's family emerged through the open doors. I went forth to hug my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, then Aaban's nieces. All of them wore something green-Salman Uncle and Waleed Bhai's green shirt, the jerseys that each of the kids wore, the green dupatta Eliza Appi had paired with white shalwar kameez, and the pistachio green shalwar kameez Najma Aunty wore.

As they all followed in after me, the seemingly dead house felt a thousand times more alive with the chatters of the kids and the hushed whispers of the adults. In the living room, where the TV was, I'd brought in as many armchairs as I could find. On the rug, blankets were splayed out with pillows and throws to make the area comfortable enough to sit through four hours of cricket.

"I love the setup!" Eliza Appi commented.

"Looks cozy," Eshal added.