Puranay Rastay ✓

chapter ‣ 13

I have often been told that I am a simple man.

I do what I'm told, I don't get in anyone's way, and I tend to spend my time keeping myself busy on my own. Everyone has their own concept of simplicity. If my habits make me a simple man, perhaps I am.

In my humble opinion though, no one's simple. A human that can pump six liters of blood in a minute, have six thousand thoughts in a day, and produce a replica of their own that goes on to produce a replica of themselves one day, cannot be simple.

But that's just my opinion, and I wholeheartedly acknowledge that I can be wrong.

I am a simple man, but there are times when I wish I wasn't.

"How was the flight?" I asked, regretting it instantly.

How could the flight have been? What sort of question is that?

"Smooth, alhumdulillah," Mamoo answered from my left. "The layover was short, and most of the passengers slept through the first leg of the journey."

My eyes flickered to the rearview mirror unintentionally, catching a glimpse of Rida, leaning her head against the window. Momani sat next to her, holding her hand.

How had her flight been? Had she sat like that through the entire twenty-two hours?

"How have things been at home?" Mamoo asked, drawing my attention.

In the five weeks that Mamoo and Momani had been gone, caring for the girls had been my responsibility.

'Kainat was dropped at the bus stop on time every day, Ifra's chart papers and poster boards were immediately bought when needed. Ami was given adequate reassurances of your well-being and soon return.'

"Stable." I nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment before returning them to the road.

Mamoo didn't say anything, and we left it at that.

It was tahajjud time when we reached home. The girls had stayed awake to receive their parents and sister. They hoped their presence could be a source of warmth in such unprecedented circumstances.

I left the luggage in the living room of Mamoo's flat before finding my way up to the roof. I wasn't sure how long my mother would stay with Rida, and I didn't want to linger in there nor be alone in my room. So I went to the place I always found comfort; the roof.

Light ribbons of the sun were slowly coloring the dark sky. I rolled out my prayer mat and prayed fajr, prolonging my sujoods and reciting all the duas I could remember. Things had been turbulent for a few weeks now, and I was simply grateful for everyone's safe return.

My lips moved wordlessly as I made dhikr, staring ahead at the sky.

Rida's dull eyes played in my mind.

I closed my eyes, sighing deeply.

bruise after bruise, beating upon beating

My eyes traced the outlines of the emerging clouds. Ya Rabb, you give to take. Kindly allow us to be patient in your decree.

The door to the roof cracked open, bringing out Abdul Basit, one of the neighbor's son.

"Salaam Khaled bhai, Ammi's asking if you can drop me to school? I got late for the van."

My eyes flickered to my phone, noticing how it was already past seven. I had been talking to the Almighty all this while.

"I'll start the bike," I assured him.

When I stopped at the flat to grab my keys and wallet, I found Ammi sobbing in the kitchen, across the stove.

I took her in my arms, no words needed to wonder why she was so shattered.