Believers of Paradise

A R Z A A N

The dinner table was being set up by one of our house keepers and I roamed around the living room. A paper was in my hands, as I tried to memorize a few things that my tutor had taught me last week. He was just some random man that needed to come in a few times to my house and teach me things I already knew. Uncle Rafi is what you would picture as a person who takes education too seriously. I never really cared. Why learn things about the world when you will leave this place just like abba did?

     When the worker left and the house felt empty, Farhana, one of the maids daughter was running a ragged cloth across our dinning table to clean it. When I looked at her and caught her staring, she instantly looked away, trying to hide her face.

I smirked to myself. "Hey Farhana," I called.

She shyly came to me, trying not to meet my eyes. I laughed to myself at that. "Remember to make me some tea after dinner," I said.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled in the quietest voice ever. Although, I pretended to not hear.

"What?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," she repeated, her voice the same.

I was just going to ask again, just for fun, when bhai came in living room. He rolled his eyes playfully and grinned at the same time as if saying "Arzaan being Arzaan".

Bhai sat down beside me and said "You can go Farhana," and she left quickly.

"Arzaan, why are you so obsessed with girls?" Bhai mocked.

"I'm not," I chuckled. "Just love annoying them,"

"Of course you do," Bhai said laughing.

      "Arzaan, Rizwan," Uncle Rafi called us. My head fell back tiredly.

       "Yeah?" Bhai yelled.

       "Did you guys study yet?" He asked.

       "Yup," I lied.

       "Then go pray,"

       "Okay," Bhai said.

      Pray? Why? To Whom? The exact God that took away all my happiness from me? I wasn't very fond of my dad to be honest, he also nagged me like uncle Rafi. But I preferred him over someone who pretended to care about me and bhai. And so I can stay happy all my life if my brother was with me. I don't need anyone. Neither do I need God.

      Bhai though, was definitely more religious than I could ever be. He did pray the amount we needed to, and also told me I should. But people don't realize my stubbornness sometimes.

     He turned and looked at me, as if expecting me to get up and lay our prayer mat to pray. He knew I wasn't going to do it. So why bother looking?

     I just sat, and gave bhai an expressionless look and he just took it and sighed. "Be right back, Arzaan," he left to his room.

     After dinner, I went to my room and looked at abba's picture from long ago. I hated thinking this, but sometimes I hate my father for leaving me and bhai. Especially with someone like uncle Rafi and Kadir.

I heard the door of my room squeak open and when I looked back to see who it was, I saw aunty Naima, who is uncle Rafi's wife and Kadir's mother. She stood there with a slight smile on her face, and greeted me. I smiled back.

The one person other than bhai that I really don't mind is aunty Naima. She is the only person from her small family that actually acts like bhai and I matter, even a little bit. I remember when I first saw her, the day she came into this house, over ten years ago, aunty Naima was the one who put us to sleep every night and also offered us a few of Kadir's toys to play with. Uncle Rafi was the one who got mad for letting aunty Naima touch our toys, yet still at this age, I don't understand what was wrong about children playing with other kids' toys. Aunty Naima at times cooked bhai and I things we liked, but then uncle Rafi denied that too saying that the maids could do that. He didn't understand that there was something better about the food aunty Naima made.

So growing up, I have definitely been more fond of aunty Naima than anyone who isn't related to me. She was my motherly figure who was beside me and took place of what my mother would have done if she hadn't passed away when I was born.

And I blame myself for my mother's death.

Aunty Naima came and sat down on the bed. "Arzaan, my dear, is everything okay?" She asked, looking at me concerned.

I wasn't. My dad left this world. My mom did. I have to live with people who just didn't care about me no matter what. How can I be okay.

"Yeah," I looked away and gulped. Taking the picture with me, I sat down beside aunty Naima and looked at it. "I just got some memories back,"

Aunty Naima put her arms around my shoulder. "Dear, you are just like my son to me. Same for Kadir's dad,"

I chuckled bitterly. "Yeah," I said trying to smile through my pain. "Definitely for uncle Rafi,"

Aunty Naima sat there, not knowing what to say. I believed her. But only half of what she said.

"Arzaan," I heard my name being called by uncle Rafi.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered. Aunty Naima didn't interject. I knew for a fact that even she knew what kind of a jerk uncle Rafi was. "Coming," I yelled loud enough for uncle Rafi to hear.

I smiled once more at aunty Naima and walked out the door and through some hallways until I found uncle Rafi, sitting on his huge office chair in his study that was filled with bound books and papers. Uncle Rafi is what you would call a busy man. Although, we all know that he worked for show. He had all the money he needed that was given by my father. And so he worked to show people that he earns all of what we have himself.

"Arzaan, you're here," he said with a smile that looked real. Ironic.

"Yeah," I said.

"Come sit here please," uncle Rafi got up from his chair and gestured with his hands. "I need a bit of help,"

I was confused. What will I do sitting on uncle Rafi's chair? He doesn't usually make him do his work unless it's something quick.

"Okay, why though?" I asked approaching him.

"I need to go and send these papers to a very important person I work with. I would have sent you but looking at how responsible you are," he chuckled mockingly. "Not sure that would be the wisest decision," I opened my mouth to say something back for that insult but uncle Rafi continued to talk.

"I have a call coming that will be asking a few information that is on this sheet," he pointed at a paper that was on the desk. "So I need you to attend the call and whatever they ask for, just read out what is written here. That's all," Uncle Rafi explained.

"Sure," I said tiredly. All I had to do was read a sheet. That is it. No big deal.

"Thanks, son." Uncle Rafi said. It made my heart feel a sort of way. Son. When does he ever call me that. He only calls Kadir that. "I would have asked Kadir but he is studying and Rizwan is running me an errand. I know it's late but the call will come soon,"

I nodded and uncle Rafi left. Making myself comfortable on the office chair, I propped my elbows on the table and tried to think of what I can do. Fidgeting with my hands then pouring myself a glass of water from the crystal jug that sat on the desk, I waited until finally, a ring came on the telephone that sat on the table.

This telephone is one of the oldest things in the house. I think abba bought it, maybe soon after bhai was born. It stopped working once, but then uncle Rafi got it fixed and it works fine, only sometimes the words aren't so clear.

I let it ring four times, before picking up the telephone and bringing it to my ears.

"Hello?" I asked.

Three seconds was how long it took for the person to answer.

"Um, hi." I was thinking the voice was going to be of a man, around the age of uncle Rafi. But I was wrong. It was a girl's voice. Maybe someone my age.

"How can I help you?" I asked although I already knew. I just put my hand on the sheet of paper to bring it closer to me so I can read it when I heard a name that made me freeze on spot.

"Mahir?"

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06/08/2018