ONISM (rewriting)

chap 32

• R I Y A •

"Riya, come let's get our lunch from mess."

My ears perked up at Faiqa's voice but I kept pretended to sleep. None of my fibres had the vitality within themselves to pull me out of bed.

Hostel was as tiring as hell.

After classes I usually go to sleep as soon as I reach hostel. It was located within my university so it usually took 2-3 minutes of walking. But as today was Saturday and home driver will be here to pick me up soon so I bunked the last two lectures and utilised that time for packing my belongings and laundry.

Three days ago Yawar had come to see me. We actually, well, met up. He came in his car and picked me up from the hostel.

Something highly risky I have ever done but he said he was missing me and it wasn't like I could say no to him.

He took me to places I would have never seen otherwise. It was the best day of my life.

Whenever I asked him about things going on back in home, he would just dodge the question. This itself was a hidden answer that nothing was right.

Plus my instincts kept telling me that all the mess that has been created had only worsened.

I didn't know why everyone had this shadowy impression in their brains about Yawar. He was pretty respectful towards me. At least he wasn't a creep like Hambal. Whatever Yawar did, he owned it.

"Fine, die in hunger!" Faiqa snapped.

"Wait up, Faiqa." I pushed myself out of bed. "I haven't eaten anything either." Since morning. And I actually needed to eat to go on for a few more hours.

"Then why wouldn't you get out of bed?"

I gestured my hands to express that I was coming as I wore my slippers and pinned my hijab well.

"What's cooked?" Faiqa being bossy, asked as we entered cafe.

"Manchurian and daal chawal." The man in late forties who used to be on the counter, answered.

"Okay!" Faiqa turned to me, a finality in her voice. "What do you wanna have?"

I shrugged, "probably nothing as I have a three hours journey ahead."

She rolled her eyes, "shut up already."

"Uncle please lay manchurian over rice instead of daal and make two plates along with two Pepsi as well!"

We paid our bills and Faiqa walked across the tables to reach the isolated one in the corner of the cafe, I followed her behind, my head ducked.

I sat down and adjusted myself in the seat around the round table.

"So how's your fiancée like?"

"Who?"

"Your fiancée! The one who took you in his car and showed you around the Islamabad." She cooed, "you never told me that you were settled with someone?"

My heart started to drum in my ribcage as my mind focused on the word fiancée. It took my mind to when my father called off our Nikah and told everyone clearly that he wasn't getting me married to Yawar.

Then why did I go out with him when my father had clearly restrained me from seeing him?

No. No. Was I now deceiving my father?

"Its not like that."

The man called out our table number and asked us to get our food from the counter. Faiqa went on and brought our plates. My words remained unheard. Or may be unanswered.