Esha and Isa

Chapter 3

Present Day

Isa has forgotten about being ‘different’ and has returned to his usual self. There’s no trace of any worries as he plays around in the school playground. Inayah comes and stands next to me while I’m gazing at the scene before me. The children are playing stuck in the mud, something I taught them.

“What are you thinking?” Inayah asks

“I was thinking about Isa,” I reply.

“Which one?” I pause before replying and I can feel my heart’s steady beat faltering and becoming irregular. Four years later and his absence still hurt.

“Little Isa,” I say, forcing a smile.

“I’m sorry.” I guess Inayah’s felt my hesitation.

“It’s okay.” For some reason, when I refer to him as Isa’s father, I don’t feel any pain. But calling him Isa makes me feel as if my wounds still haven’t healed.

I check the watch on my wrist and see that it’s time for the children to get to their next lesson. I teach the older children so Isa’s not my student. I watch as he runs to his class and momentarily turns to smile at me. For a second, his smile looks just like his father’s and I have to stop myself from running to him and holding him in my arms. We were in school so I have to remain professional here.

I go inside my own class and get lost in teaching the children and distracting my mind, giving the children little breaks between every time I change the subject. Their last subject is History and it’s the subject I struggle with most. My history lessons in school consisted of the world wars and Britain’s past Kings and Queens. I don’t think that will be very useful for these children so I have to study Pakistan’s history before teaching. I was wrong when I graduated and thought my days of studying are over.

When the class finishes, I dismiss the children and head over to Isa’s class. I ask if he has any homework and Isa’s teacher shakes her head. She always looks as if she’s a little scared of me. Well, maybe that’s because I run the school and make sure the kids are being taught well. But that’s no reason to shake in fear when I’m close by. I smile at her and thank her before taking Isa’s hand and walking away. See, I’m nice. No reason for anyone to be scared.

“Esha!” I hear Hadia call. I turn and see her running towards me.

“What are you doing now?” She asks, a little out of breath.

“I’m going to go home, help Isa with some school work and finish some chores. Then Isa and I can play together.” I look down at Isa and see him grin up at me. I’m a fun mum.

“Honestly, I think you push him too hard.” I was hoping she’d spare me the lecture of ‘over teaching’ Isa. That’s what she calls it. “Could you do me the absolutely biggest favour ever?” She asks instead.

“What’s the reason for babysitting Bilal now?” I’m her number one babysitter for her six year old son Bilal. He’s one of Isa’s best friends.

“How did you…?” She narrows her eyes at me and shakes her head before continuing. “Khalil’s late from work so he can’t take Bilal and I have to go to my mum’s house. I can’t take Bilal with me because they’re arguing again.”

“Again? Is it the same thing?” Hadia nods. “Ya Allah, when’s it going to end?”

“In’sha’allah when my brother gets enough money and moves out. Maybe she’ll improve. For now, I just have to go and calm everything down since everyone else is incapable of doing that.” Hadia sighs warily and I feel a pang of sympathy for her.