Koh-e-Noor

//• pandrah •//

Those eyes.

Why is he so Hamza?

I know this isn't him. Hamza died way before. I've mourned him enough times.

But then the other day in the car, he not only was the only person to stay with me during that distressing moment, but he also shared his vision for the future with me. He seemed like that same Hamza I loved. The nostalgia almost made me cry that day. His passion for his dreams, his—

The point was, I needed to stop being so affected by him. There were a dozen other house members.

Then again, my thoughts took me back and I ridiculed myself for the bhutta day. For investing so many emotions in that emotionless selfish self-worshipper.

Right. That's the thing. He's arrogant because of his work. Because of his fans.

If he's a selfish self-worshipper, who am I? An insane idiot, who repeats the same mistakes and expects different results.

The urge to cut myself lightly bubbled up, and scared of the thought, I wept my tears away. Distracting myself.

As if on cue, he entered the room. The exact same way he always had, since childhood. Without knocking.

Once he left, I grieved for the best friend I lost. For whose grave I couldn't go to.

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

I ignored him on the breakfast table, the dining table, the night assembly, the moment he came to my room to exchange the blanket.

I wanted to fight and not let him have the comfort of my scent. I didn't want to face him every night and he would come to my room for it once every 24 hours.

But I let him go. It's just a moment every day. That's better than fighting with him for half an hour and then having him do what he wills anyway.

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

My eyes landed on that one mail in between the ocean of newsletters.

Allah.

Martin sir.

auzubillah

bismillah

alhamdulillahi rabbil aalaameen

allahu laa ilaaha illa huwal

laa hawla waa laa quwaata illa billah

rabbi inni lima anzalta ilaiya min khairin faqeer

rabbi inni lima anzalta ilaiya min khairin faqeer

rabbi inni lima anzalta ilaiya min khairin faqeer

I SQUEALED AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS.

I re-read every word, unable to read sentences at once.

Zain came to his room, and as I blabbered my dreams, he took his laptop from me.

He looked at me, "Zaira..."

"WHAT? Don't tell me it's not there anymore." I snatched the laptop and saw it there again then looked in his eyes, calmer than before, "what? it is there right?"

"Haan hai, tumhain yeh sach mein karna hai?"

"New York jaana? HAAN ZAAHIR HAI—"

"No. This movie."

"Martin sir ke liye kaun movie nahin karna chaahe ga? Aadhi movie toh ban bhi chuki hai, bas kuchh details mein hi madad maang rahe hain naa. You know he's so sweet, he said he loves the way I see the world, he said he wants me to come so we can finish it faster, he wants this for The Oscars, MY FIRST MOVIE, he thinks it's worthy of—"