Believers of Paradise

Z A R A

       When the day was turning darker and we had just about an hour left before the guests would come over, ma told all us siblings to go and get ready. I was glad to finally be done with all the lectures about getting things completed so when I went in my room and saw my sisters looking through our wooden wardrobe, I joined them.

Rahaan and Sameer both shared rooms but Rahaan had most of his items there considering the fact that Sameer was still a kid. As for us sisters, we pretty much have an equal share and sometimes Zaina and I switch between our clothes because we are almost the same size.

Tahira picked out a pink frock that was on top of the pile of her clothes that sat in the wardrobe. I grabbed it for her as Zaina took out some hair bands and a comb to brush Tahira's hair.

When she was dressed, Zaina tied two little braids for Tahira at her sides tightly. Tahira smiled as she slipped away from the room with her doll. I heard Sameer joining her in a few seconds.

      I got out one of Zaina's traditional outfit that she barely ever wears and put that on. Zaina was ready before me so she went to the kitchen to get a few things done.

     While I sat in my room and ran my comb through my long, dark hair, I thought about something. Just beside the mirror I was sitting in front of, there was a small little shelf that had a few items on it. Most of it was random jewelry that belonged to my sisters and me, but on the bottom most shelf was a picture.

      I reached the picture, a few folds on its sides, and picked it up safely with my hands. Bringing it up close, I looked at it and smiled at what seemed like the most familiar scene ever.

       Two boys, one sitting on the ground looking up at the other who was standing pointing up at the sky with a stick. They looked around the age six, not much more. Both had a grin set on their face which always added a slight simper to me. On the bottom of the picture were two names: Arzaan and Rizwan. And on the back of the picture, against the yellowy surface was the name of the person who gave me this image.

     Mahir.

      I still remember him like I saw him yesterday. Not only memories from when I was younger is this vivid, but Mahir is someone I remember crystal clear even today. Just under his name was a number.

       He told me to call him. He said that one day, if I do get my hands on a telephone, I need to call him. I got the chance only once, when I was around ten. My family and I went over to a rich relative's house and I saw a telephone for the first time. Someone was speaking through it, turning a round thing that had circles in them. But unfortunately, I did not have the picture with me at that instant. I was only to visit that place for a few hours, and so I didn't think of bringing the picture. So ever since, I memorized the number. It is in my brain forever. Just in case I get the chance.

    7386263778

      I said it in my head over and over again. I long until the day when I will meet Mahir again. And I couldn't wait to see that one picture we took together. That day, soon after he gave me his sons' photo, my mom called out and the last look I ever got of him was a simple smile. But when I meet him again, I want to tell him how much the smiles of his sons' make me happy. You can't not be in a good mood when you see someone else in it too.

The photo was placed back where it was. I looked at it every single day of my life since I got it. Something about it always just came back to me. Like old memories, or just something I couldn't explain to myself. I knew it, but I didn't.

I went to the main room where my dad sat on his chair, white cotton clothes holding on to his body. He had the sleeves rolled up the elbow as he read the newspaper. That is abba for you, he reads the news at this time of the day. Not in the morning when it comes like the other men do.