Mending Broken Hearts

23. Sisters

She took her glasses off and put them to the side. I couldn't read her facial expression well because of her mask, but didn't doubt her sincerity one bit when she asked, "Omar, do you like coming here because you're lonely at home?"

It wasn't a casual remark, nor was it laced with any trace of condescension or pity. Instead, it bore the weight of genuine concern, a reflection of her deep understanding of the challenges I was facing.

From one healthcare worker to another, in unprecedented times, she understood the loneliness of my solitary existence and how much I relied on interactions with my colleagues for my own mental sanity. Even if done through N95 masks and goggles while wearing plastic gowns and gloves, those moments served as a vital antidote to the anxious thoughts about Madi and the bleakness of our future. Coming into work was the sole means by which I could stave off the surging anger I felt whenever I thought about my parents and society at large.

'You could say that," I admitted. 

She quietly nodded, "Then you're always welcome. But only if you promise me that if your loneliness turns into something more, you will come straight to me."

The sincerity in her eyes mirrored the gravity of her offer. She was in her late 50s and I had only known her for a couple of months. But right then she wasn't just a mentor, but a source of solace in these turbulent times. Her words were an invitation that resonated deep within, a lifeline extended in the unspoken language of empathy.

All things I wished from my parents. The two people who had raised me, yet refused to acknowledge my existence. 

"I promise," my voice perked up unexpectedly. I might not have parents that cared. But I had people who cared. 

Soon I would realize, my sister and younger cousin were among those people too. 

*******

"What video?" I asked Sehr as I drove towards the COVID field hospital where I was volunteering for the night shift. 

"The one of Naeem sahab taking the bag of money out of Abu's safe. Saima was able to get a hold of it."

"And how is that supposed to help prove that Shadab bhai was behind all of this?"

"Omar, Naeem sahab had a piece of paper with the code written on it. You can clearly see him reading off it. That means someone gave it to him. Its not like he went and broke into the safe or something."

I understood my sister's enthusiasm. She wasn't kidding when she said she was on my side. But jaded by all my past interactions with Abu, who was no fool I might add, a piece of paper wasn't the evidence that would convince him that Madi's uncle wasn't a thief. 

"Its not enough, Sehr. Abu will just say he had gotten the code off some document or email and written it down for himself."

"I am sending you the video. Just look for yourself. He seems so relaxed like he was in no rush at all. Saima confirmed that Abu was in the building at the time. If Naeem sahab was really stealing something wouldn't he be rushing?"

"Maybe, but Abu will just say that he knew he would be preoccupied with something else."

I heard her sigh, "Well, take a look anyway. You'll know what I am talking about."

"I will. And listen, thanks for doing this. Tell that to Saima too," I told her as I pulled up outside the field hospital. 

"Thanks for what, bro?", she chuckled. "We're just doing what sisters do best. Meddle in our useless brother's life."

"Haha...very funny." I made a face even though she couldn't see me. 

Yet, no matter how much I made fun of her, or pretended that she irritated me to no end, she had always been the undeterred solid support I needed. I didn't tell her this enough, but she was one of the best parts of my life.