Naseem-e-Subh

Chapter 18: a better time

The gulab jaamun looked extra delicious as Israh eyed the plate on the coffee table, wondering whether she should just take one. Nobody had taken it yet, and everyone was so engrossed in a conversation about the country's declining economy that Israh found it hard to resist the temptation.

Hamza had gone to explore the backyard with his mother and sister, so Israh couldn't get him involved in her plans to steal a sweet off that plate. And when was aunty going to suggest a tour of the house?

The interior was so beautiful, pristine and neat that Israh was curious about the rest of the house now. Warm shades of brown and beige with sprinkles of green adorned the entire living room. A bright fire was lit at the fireplace, soft pink roses within a small white vase was perched atop the centre of the coffee table and three picture frames hung off the wall over the fireplace. The first one was of Moiz, Asad's older brother who Israh learnt had passed away in an accident a year and a half ago. The second framed picture was a family photo with both Moiz and Asad in the middle, aunty standing next to Moiz and uncle standing next to Asad. The final picture was a graduation photo of Asad. All three photos oozed happiness and warmth. Israh found herself smiling at the joy, but also sadly at the imagination of how Moiz's absence must have affected this beautiful family.

A person eventually learned to live without a loved one, but it didn't mean that the absence of someone so dear ever hurt any less. Israh didn't know much about such a close death and grief and all of that, but she thought maybe it was something like longing for those childhood memories. Something like wanting to go back to a simpler time when everything was fine, when the world was vast, never-ending and possibilities were infinite, but knowing with crushing realisation that that time was over and could never be recovered. It was something like being desperate to be yourself after having lost everything that ever made you, you.

Perhaps, it was more about the confusion, about the feeling disoriented in that vast, infinite world that once was exuberant, and now rushed at you with biting force.

Someone asked for water and aunty was about to get up to retrieve it, but Israh stood up before she could. "I'll go get it."

Israh would be lying if she said she was just being nice about it. No. She was hoping there was a box of mithai somewhere in the kitchen waiting to be opened by her. Water was a good excuse to go hunting for something to satisfy her sweet tooth.

Aunty protested but Israh was insistent and headed toward the kitchen before anyone could stop her again.

and ta-da! "Bingo." She muttered excitedly as she practically hopped toward the island and almost ripped open the box.

Her mouth watered at the sight of so many gulaab jaamuns, so she quickly grabbed one and stuffed it into her mouth before anyone came looking for her, wondering why she couldn't find the bottle of water placed so clearly on the shelf.

"Mhmm, so good!" She gushed, as the sweet melted on her tongue and burst into the most delicious sugary flavour ever.

She headed to the shelf, grabbed the water bottle as she swallowed the last bit and turned to head back to the living room when she froze, near a heart attack.

And then she hiccuped at the sight of him at the entrance of the kitchen, watching her with an amused smile on his stupidly handsome face. Israh covered her mouth embarrassed, heat prickling her skin.

Ya Allah, why does this always happen to me?

"In my defence, somebody ought to eat those." She spoke rapidly, not knowing since when he'd been standing there watching her act crazy, like a creep and how much he'd seen. Surely, getting caught stealing a gulaab jaamun wasn't the worst thing that could happen to her, so she just decided to shake it off and act nonchalantly even if deep inside she was absolutely mortified.