Naseem-e-Subh

Chapter 1: a near tomorrow

"Israh betaa, come downstairs. Look, who's come to meet you."

It was barely ten in the morning and there already seemed to be guests swarming their house. Yes, guests were supposed to be a blessing, but at times they genuinely were more of a curse than anything else. She'd barely slept through the night with everything going on at home, and now that she was just about to hit a deep slumber, guests were suddenly expecting her.

This meant she'd have to make chai and cook, even though she herself was starving, stomach burning up and a headache looming just above her. Fake a smile or two, talk to them like nothing was ever wrong.

Huffing, she took off the blanket from over her face and stretched her limbs. People usually woke up well rested after a nap, but Israh ached all over every day no matter how good she slept through the night. Maybe the marathons in her head materialised in the form of all these joint aches. She was like an older soul in the body of a twenty two year old. It was ridiculous. Just once, she'd like to wake up absolutely loving life.

She quickly tied her hair back in a low ponytail, and drowsily walked to the bathroom to freshen up. Once she was done, she changed out of her cow-printed pyjamas into the new maroon velvet salwar kameez amma had sewn for her not long ago.

Feeling a little bit better though still sleepy, she applied clear lip gloss over her lips, smeared the moisturiser all over her face and fixed her hair before covering it with the dupatta. Ready to fight, I guess.

Pasting on a good smile, she went downstairs, coming face to face with amma's friend, aunty Ruqayya. Compared to Israh's mom, Ruqayya looked much younger and glowy despite both friends being the same age. Some people just had the patience to take care of themselves, but Israh's mom didn't really have that. Life was never easy enough for her to remember that there was something called skin care.

Israh's mother was all wrinkles and worry lines and tired eyes, and joint pains. There was a new medical appointment to be attended every other day for a new ailment because the worries of her children seemed to be consuming her every moment of peace. Israh felt helpless and pity, and a kind of self-loathing because while everyone had high expectations for her future, Israh didn't know if she'd be able to do anything of what they hoped. She was simply incapable.

"Assalamualeikum aunty."

"Waleikumaslam, Israh. How are you?"

"Alhamdulillah, I'm good. What about you?"

They hugged briefly then sat down on the couch. "I'm well too. It's been quite a while since I've seen you. What are you doing now?"

Failing miserably at being a good daughter, she thought. Things like this though, one couldn't tell another person no matter the relationship. It was just a source of embarrassment.

"I'm doing my masters in Law. Set to finish by next year, InnShaAllah."

Aunty Ruqayya nodded her head, visibly impressed which kind of made Israh feel a little bit better. At least someone thought of her as impressive enough.

Amma came out of the kitchen, holding a tray with a bottle of orange juice, two glasses and a plate of barfi. She set them down on the coffee table in front of aunty and sat down next to Israh.

"Oh, that's wonderful betaa. It's so important for girls to have a good educational background in this day and era."

"Right. It really develops a person's personality. Not only girls but also boys." Amma added.

Israh smiled politely and nodded along. She didn't have much to say. She was rather shy and quiet, and with people she wasn't too close with, she chose to not say much. Plus, the times she did try to insert herself into a conversation, she usually just said something embarrassing that washed away any kind of respectable image she put out of herself, so no thank you, she'd rather not talk at all.