05. Death

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A Mazed Heart (Rifa Fathma)

Episode 05. Death

The wind tickled his skin and fluttered his outfit as he inhaled a fresh gush of air. Birds chirped, hooted, and flapped their wings as they set off for the day. The comforting sound of soft but strong waves colliding against the shore made Mount Lufu a mesmerizing place for climbing. Snow coated the base of the mountain. Like some thick cream on bread.

With each step they took, their feet dipped down the white snow and came back, leaving a trail of their footprints behind. His body shivered a little, not probably because of the weather but the enthusiasm that he had been suppressing for this journey for a long time now.

It felt so good to sort his mind out amidst the chaos in the city. He was just tired of carrying around a huge mess in his head.

But now, the knots in his mind started untangling themselves. But this time around, they folded themselves with peace and joy.

It all started when Mr  Dawood took Haarim by his shoulders in a corner, when Yahya was stunned to see his uncle converse so fluently in Arabic with his teacher.

Ever since that heated conversation between the duo, Yahya had been sniffing the miff in the air. Like something had put a damper on the mood of everyone in City of Dawn.

Even at Dawn Academy, the teachers looked all stiff and terse. The silent whispers between the teachers would come to an abrupt halt the moment they see any student nearby. And the students were told off to return to their classes so that the teachers could fall back to their secret whispering.

Yahya was now used to the creases on the forehead of his uncle and aunt. Their eyebrows and lips that curved downwards had now become permanent. But when their eyes met with those of Yahya's, the creases would ease out, the curves straighten, and the warm glint rushes back into their eyes.

Even the conversation between him and Haarim had taken a swift turn now. It weighed more on the serious note and less on the casual ones. Haarim  would most often be inspiring him, training him to the fullest, talking about the importance of preserving the lives of one's country, and the beauty of Islam.

The way Haarim presented Islam and the way he talked so graciously about their Lord, blew his mind away each time. He had never met anyone who could have such a pleasant view on their religion.

He had always seen folks waving around a stick in their hands, eyeing others in disdain as they forge the regulations down their throats. It scared Yahya at times. Never had anyone ever brought out the beauty of Islam in front of him. Except Haarim, Heer, and of course, Mr. Dawood.

Mr. Dawood, the one whom Yahya called Ustaad now, was as usual. But sometimes, his gaze zoned in on an invisible dot as a faraway look took its place on the otherwise calm face and the sudden silence followed. Was even Ustaad bothered by something? Was it just a casual front he had on for the sake of him and Kamil?

And Kamil, that naughty little imp. He turned out to be one big prankster, always trying to pull his legs, bully him and whatnot.

Yahya missed the good old ambience in the city. He wasn't getting that vibe anymore. This put a damper on his mood too.

It didn't go unnoticed by Haarim.

On one fine day, He walked up to him, ruffled his brown hair, and pinched his flushed cheeks as he asked his take on exploring Mount Lufu. As if getting a chance to scurry out of the gloomy atmosphere, he desperately nodded off his head.

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