The Shades of Spring

The End of an Indecision

When the committee found out whose class was the origin of the panic wave, they totally lost their heads.
Sidra was being bombarded left and right with plain accusations and nasty rumours about her loyalty to the school. With herculean effort and unimaginable patience, she held them all at bay until the board room was ready for her meeting; it wasn't a surprise when teachers out of the committee showed up for gossip.
For a long time afterward, Sidra often wondered how she hadn't cracked then and there under the pressure mounted on her shoulders.

Until further notice, the committee was suspended, and Sidra was closely monitored. She hated every second of it. Waking up and going to school took courage and at least a 30 minute pep talk to herself every morning before setting out to work. Every nerve in her body was wrought with tension and every so often, she would put her head down and sob miserably when left in her own room. Amanah knew what she was going through and helped her daughter every way she could. Hamza was her personal guard who screened her calls and never let anyone rile her up; often putting himself in the bad books of certain family members who wanted to know the secret behind the girl's gloom.
Every single day, Amanah expected her daughter to announce her resignation from the darn hell hole filled with two-faced blame gamers. But the announcement never came, because Sidra was resolved not to flee like a coward.

At the library, even Musa caught on to the air of misery around his friend and tried ample unsuccessful times to humour her to speak.
"Pick a colour," he once told her leaning casually over her desk. She met his eyes without the usual mirth that danced behind her irises. She held his gaze lazily for a few seconds before relenting, picking the gray scrap of paper he held; the one she turned down being a yellow.

"Well, that's some improvement. Read inside."

"Musa....you're so insufferable."

He shrugged away the half hearted insult and scanned her face attentively. After reading the paper, she scowled at him
"Indeed what is to come is better for you than what has gone by. With a smiley face."

He gave up the act, "You're looking like the sky is falling around you. Come on, Sidra, tell me."

She shook her head and neatly folded the paper before pushing it back to him, "Just keep me in your Duas. That's all."

Each time they met, he made small jokes or found a fresh way to humour her, which were wasted on the girl. Completely defeated and heart leaden, he collapsed on a chair next to Ayaan the following day before she came. The one with the book stole a glance at his friend whose head was thrown back, eyes closed, hand running through his hair in a nervous fashion; then he resumed reading as if nothing interested him. Musa stayed that way a little while before groaning into his palms and snatching Ayaan's book away. The surprised reader made a grab for it, failed, crossed his arms and stared his friend deadpan.
"What?"
"I'm drowning in misery. Help me."
It was pleasing to watch how much they had warmed up to each other following the basketball game and were totally comfortable speaking like old friends. Sometimes, it was hard to believe Musa was ever serious around Ayaan.

"Am I at fault for assuming Hafsa turned you down?"
"Very much."
"Thank God. So, what's this about?"
"Sidra."
"Okay, what about her?"
Musa narrated to Ayaan about the recent change in her demeanor and the way she appeared to have lost all colour in her spirit rapidly, after her excited yabber not two months ago. The jury listened carefully, nodding along to the narrative, trying not to get distracted by John's appearance in the stairway. God, the hatred he carried!

When Musa finally got up and walked away, Ayaan was a little relieved to be of help.
_______________

Hafsa was the news bearer to shake Sidra out of the gloom with two words.
"I accepted."

Sidra stared gobsmacked at the mirror, then at Hafsa and back again at the mirror, before she observed her own eyes light up to match the glow in Hafsa's and the next thing she knew, Hafsa was laughing/crying into her shoulder and both of them talking at the same time.
"Alhamdulillah!"
"Bathroom!"
"Asthaghfirullah!"
"BATHROOM!"
"Sorry. Sorry. I'm just excited. I would've jumped if my back wasn't aching. Haffi...you sly witch! Scored a home run huh?"
"You can't dance around forever, yeah?"
"Nope. You can't. When is the Nikah? Waleema?"
"Calm down first. Here, drink water-" she waited for Sidra to gulp "-Engagement is tomorrow!"
Excited squeals half penetrated the thick door; a corridor and a floor away from where Musa was being hugged by his friends. He observed with a small smile, that the smirk was restored to Sidra's face and the shy blush that tinted his fiancée's face a lovely rose colour.
_______________

A green eyed monster brushed past Musa's shoulder at the revolving door. His eyes roved the man's neck, subconsciously calculating the perfect position to place his thumb when snapping the neck. Musa's friendly smile elicited a fake one from him and a chilling coldness glazed over the blue eyes.

Musa disappeared into the building with John's eyes still on his back, until the envious gaze found Hafsa, whose fourth finger was occupied by a gorgeous blue stone ring. He quelled the urge to storm in and rip it off her hand, forcing himself to continue on his way to a beat up red Nissan. Sitting behind the steering wheel, he shut his eyes and called to memory, the first day he saw her.
She was smiling in some blissful thought, unaware of the stranger who was worshipping her beauty with his eyes. The perfect nose, full lips, dreamy eyes and melting smile raked iron nails across his poor heart; playing with the strings seductively until the whole world stopped and her smile was brighter to him than the brilliant sun. And then some idiot toppled a bloody mascot, startling the girl and making her retreat into the tent. John felt an impulse to wind back time just to see her smile again. It was a mark of self control he didn't break the cursed man's arm.

His eyes popped open, hatred raging in the blue abyss, and a loud voice advocating violence. All's fair in love and war. He was attracted to the girl. Hafsa. To the one now engaged to another man. He shoved a fist into his mouth and screamed until his throat hurt. Then fumbling in his dash, he produced a small blade he ran across his knuckles. Blood. A feeling. The colour of love.
________________

The seating order of the meeting spoke volumes about the treatment the primary teacher received post the Aziz Catastrophe. On either side of a walking carpet, chairs were arranged for exactly twelve people; three on the right and nine on the left. Sidra's seat was on the right.

The jury arrived with a child psychologist who, after meeting with Aziz and his parents, declared him schizophrenic and called out the school shrink on failing to raise the alarm when Sidra first introduced her to the boy. The debate was heated with accusations being hurled all around.
Sidra remained silent throughout the session, barely speaking a word for fear her voice would betray her outward appearance of strength.

The meeting was adjourned after the board appointed a new committee and a new head; Sidra wasn't part of the group. The assembly dispersed quietly with only Iman giving Sidra's shoulder a tight squeeze and a reassuring smile. Sidra gave her a tired half smile without exactly meeting her eyes. The only other person who sat on her side was the Gym Coach, Mr Rowland, who too gave her an apologetic smile before quietly leaving.
The Principal knowingly observed the blank face of the young teacher seated alone; and hushed the board members to lend her an ear.
She didn't take a deep breath, or collect her thoughts. She just spoke softly and clearly, in measured words and passed them an envelope. The Principal nodded her permission, so Miss Jameel headed to her locker.

At three in the afternoon, she reached home in a taxi, lugging an extra bagpack filled with items she used to leave in the school locker. For two days, she didn't go to the library.
For two days, she switched off her phone.