Naseem-e-Subh

Chapter 3: who has come

They were late. And not just five or ten minutes late than what they'd told her parents, but it'd been almost an hour and there was no news of them. Israh really disliked when guests did this, never let them know if they were going to be late or not, and then they'd come at odd hours of the day when the charm and excitement was long gone.

In Israh's case, it wasn't even about excitement. She'd given herself a pep talk and mustered up some courage and came downstairs ready to face the day. But now, the more time passed, her anxiety started pushing ahead and coming back to express itself through her shaking limbs and fast heartbeats. She was even sweating and that meant damp stains on the kameez under arms, and nasty smells and the feeling hot and growing grumpy and- it just wasn't good at all.

Why must they make her go through this?

"Israh betaa calm down. Why are you so anxious?"

Why? Why???

"Did you call them?"

Sidra sighed. "Yes, I did. They're almost here."

Take a deep breath. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. They're not monsters.

Sidra was about to say something else, but the bell rang, and Israh stopped breathing for a moment. She looked towards her retreating mother and made a quick dua for Allah to help her through this. She was so nervous, near another panic attack. A second one in one day was rare but when it happened, it was the worst ever.

She heard the voices mingling outside, her father's cheerful voice and another man's, and another's and then the women's, their laughter, their steps, their chatter. Israh inhaled and exhaled rhythmically, opened the door of the kitchen that led to the back garden, and crouched down on the floor unable to breathe properly.

If she walked out to them with her puffy red eyes and sweat dribbling down her forehead, it would be the most embarrassing moment of her life. And she had many.

"Israh, betaa bring some juice for the guests." Sidra called.

You can do this, Israh. Be brave.

She got up from the floor, her legs and hands shaking. Her breathing was still not smooth, and she was just going to look like a freaking clown. But whatever. She wasn't here to impress anyone, and definitely not him, so really, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

The door of the kitchen opened, and Sidra came in with a questioning gaze. "What's taking you so long?" But seeing Israh's state, Sidra's eyes softened, and she took her daughter into her arms. "Oh, my love...it's going to be okay. They're really nice and you're wonderful. C'mon meri jaan, cheer up."

"I don't know what to do."

Sidra leaned away and massaged her shoulders. "Israh, you don't have to do anything. I'm sure they won't overwhelm you, and remember, we aren't making anything official. It's just a conversation, love." Smiling, she continued, "you know what? I'll take the juice and dry fruit outside. Take a bit of time to calm down and you can bring the chai later on. Will that be okay?"

Israh nodded, grateful for the extra time given to her. She really needed to get a grip, holding herself together and keep her feet firm on the ground, careful to not lose herself in this spinning world.

She continued taking deep breaths, closing her eyes as she did so. She imagined the beach, the azure sea and foamy waves, the glistening sand under the bright Sun, and the soothing, cool breezes. She imagined her parents' faces open with joy and laughter, their eyes sparkling. She saw her sister Aneesa, and her brother Jamaal running into the waves, and she herself writing her name in the sand with an astray stick she'd found. Her one hand closed around three cute, little shells.