Talha
I feel like I have left bleakness behind. Maybe it's because I am thousands miles away from home, or maybe it's something in this air, it has a sudden electric buzz. I feel charged. A warm breeze tugs at my collar and in a slow motion I wade through this humidity to catch the nearest rickshaw.
"DHA phase 6," I mutter to the rickshaw driver.
He wordlessly acknowledges my trance and the smoky vehicle roars, coughs, spits and soon we are tumbling our way to Defence. The tumbling soon recedes and becomes somewhat smooth, punctuated by the bleating, vibrating sound of my ride.
I don't remember how much I pay for the ride and find myself standing in the middle of a deserted street under the blazing sun. I only remember feeling severely dehydrated as I ring the bell of this posh house inhabited by Fahad's sister, Annayah.
Why here, of all places? I ask myself and immediately realise just how many stories haunt me.
The door fling opens. The hurriedly draped dopatta loosely hangs from her shoulders, the brown eyes startle and quickly shift into a glint of recognition.
"You look like a corpse!" Esha chirps.
"Ya Allah, andar ajao!" calls out a soft voice from behind her. It's deeper than Esha's and I hear bangles tinkling as the two hands pull me inside the house. Unmistakably Annayah.
It takes me a full minute to adjust to the darker interior of their home. During the entirety of this whole minute Esha fusses over me while Annayah hands me a glass full of icy cold water, while we are still standing in their empty garage.
"Esha, let him come inside," Anna warns.
Now that I have somewhat regained my senses, I finally say salaam to them.
"He's still the same old Talha," Esha pinches my arm, "even Zaynab Churail couldn't tamper with his manners!"
Her name stings more than I expect it to. Annayah takes one look at me and suggests we all go inside.
It's not until I have showered and changed that I fully appreciate their hospitality. I try to stuff my mouth as much as I can with Esha's biryani. Annayah fixes a cup of chai for me.
I am fed and bathed and sipping tea.
I run out of things to say without acknowledging the elephant in the room : me running away.
I find myself relying on Esha to bring it up but the way she squirms in the couch, opens her mouth as if to say something and closes it again, tells me that Anna has stopped her to ask me questions. It's killing Esha but she's managing to be quiet and finally it's Anna who takes the first step.
"Talha, are you okay? I mean.."
"I have been better."
"We knew you weren't going to marry her but this-" Esha chimes in.
"-Esha." Anna glares at her.
"It's okay," I say, "I just couldn't take it anymore."
I have finished the chai and I can't bring myself to look at them.
"We will talk about it later." Esha says though she doesn't look very happy about it.
"You should sleep," Anna hands me a toothbrush. I smile at her weakly and before I know I am crushed
in the warmest hug.
______
Every muscle in my legs aches from sitting in the same posture for hours in the bus. I nestle my left hand under the pillow and rest my head on top, the fluffy peach pillow falls on my face and before I know sleep comes in an abrupt swish taking me in its merciful embrace.
When I wake up the air conditioner is turned off and a cool breeze rolls through the windows. The sound of Azaan echoes from every mosque in the vicinity and with it comes the most pleasant fragrance to ever exist : Petrichor.
A small knock jolts me. I was in a daze again, dammit.
"Come in yar," I say propping myself up and rubbing my eyes.
Annayah walks in.
"Esha opened this window, didn't she?" she asks.
"I have no idea, I Just woke up."
"It's raining," she says placing another fresh shalwar kameez on bed.
"I know and Esha is making pakoras, right?" I can't help but smile.
"She is," Anna says，"and with the same chatni she made last sum-" She goes quiet.
Last summer. I remember.
How can I forget? Barging in the patio with wet feet, only to fight over Esha's delicious pakoray.Fahad would never let me drink the chatni alone.
Annayah's eyes reflect the same memory.We are both quiet for a minute.
"Come downstairs, okay?"
"I have to go to masjid," I say, "don't want to miss maghrib too."
She nods. I want to move but I keep looking at her. I have been trying not to say the words that soon find their way out. I will regret this moment for a very long time.
"Where is he?"
"Didn't you talk to him?"
"I called him."
"And?"
"He cut the call when he realized it was me."
"Oh, Talha.."
"Is he coming?"
Before she can say anything, a resonating deep laughter comes from downstairs followed by a rich voice.
I get up as fast as I can but Annayah stops me. She has a surprisingly fierce grip.
"Talha, he's just leaving."
"Why didn't you wake me up when he came?"
The look on her face is the one our senior doctors have when they are about to break a terrible diagnosis to an unsuspecting patient, it's a look of impending doom. Her eyes speak volumes, she doesn't want to say what she's about to say.
I am standing on the floor barefoot. I feel the wind leaving my lungs.
"Talha, he is here with his wife."
She starts crying before I do.
_______
Translation:
Rickshaw : A light two-wheeled passenger vehicle drawn by one or more people
Andar ajaao: Come inside
Churail : Witch
Salaam : A greeting meaning "Peace"
Azaan : Call of prayer
Maghrib : Evening prayer
Pakoray : A fried snack
Chatni : Sauce
_____
A/N:
Sorry for the veryyy late update. *sheepish grin*
I was busy with some other writing assignments. Now back to track! :D
YOU ARE READING
It's not all Roses
Teen Fiction"I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter and grow sad. I want our breath of passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain." -Oscar Wilde *** Talha Abdul Majeed, a scrawny med school student, goes miss...
