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we were children thrust into war and once it ends what will we become?
~~
Water sprayed down on his muscular frame, his hands working to push his slick hair back, chin tilted upwards and eyes closed as the shower glass misted over from steam.
Wrapping a towel around his abdomen, he walked towards the sink, to be met with his own reflection in the tall mirror; rays of artificial light bouncing off his taut muscles, droplets of water, glistening under the light and decorating his frame like jewels.
He looked like a model straight out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog, but staring at his own reflection, all he could focus on were his eyes - intense and gray, cultivating storms.
Specs of black dancing in his irises, like thousands of tornados all set off at once, giving rise to chaos and screams, of fear and suffocation -until all that is left are ashes, gray, like those crumbling off a burning cigarette; Of voices, all playing over at once,
"Pata nahi kis ki baddua iss larkay ki soorat may laggi hay hummay"
(This boy is a form of a curse to us)
"Sab barbaad kar diya iss nay"
(He has ruined everything)
"Aisa konsa gunnah kiya tha jo Allah ne humaray liye ye barbaadi likhi thi"
(What sin did we commit, that God has damned us this way)
The woman's fist curled around his arm, nails digging into his flesh, strands of her salt and pepper hair framing her face, with her eyes bulging out, she whispered close to his ear,
"Tum balaa ho, aik buri balaa"
(You are like a plague/evil, a punishment)
Snapping out of the trance, he flinched at his own reflection.
Turning away from the mirror and heaving out a sigh, he hurriedly changed into work attire, heading out of the room and down the stairs. He finally breathed out a sigh of relief as he drove out of the garage of the haveli.
~~~~
"Imran? Ye files le jao," Ghasaan tossed the files onto the table,
