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*
FLASHBACK
Saim
"Mama, please let me go." Anabia begged.
"No."
"But Saim is going."
"Anabia." Mama glared at her to stop arguing.
"Why can Saim go, but I can't?" Anabia protested.
"Anabia, you are sixteen now. These overnight school trips, I..." Mama put her hands on her hips. "I'm not comfortable."
"Mama, it's a school trip! Teachers will be present! And technically speaking, Saim is my mehram!" Anabia's arguments fell on deaf ears, because Mama refused.
"Mama." I stepped in. "It's just two days in Rome. As she said, teachers will be around. Trust her."
Mama sighed. "Fine. But Saim, you need to take the guarantee that you will look after her. Keep an eye on her. Like she and Hareem wandered off in Paris, there better not be a repeat of that."
"Mama, you can trust me to follow the rules." Ana said, bitterly.
"If you give me that attitude, I won't let you go."
"What attitude? I'm just..." Ana met my gaze, and I shook my head at her.
When Mama left the room, I told her. "Small victories, sister. Haven't you learnt? Don't push your luck with desi parents. Take what you get, no matter how small it is. She allowed you to go, didn't she?"
"Yeah, but only because you're going!"
"If you want, I can break the rules and get in trouble, hence Mama would know that you are the good one?" I suggested.
"No." She giggled. "It's fine. Small victories."
At that point, it turned out that Mama had been right to worry about Anabia. My sister has a tendency to do impulsive things, especially with friends.
In Rome, Anabia and Hareem had attempted to sneak out of the hotel to get some ice cream from the gelateria across the stress, where they had incredible mouth-watering gelatos. They had used the dimly lit stairwell to sneak away more easily, but Anabia had lost her footing and had ended up fracturing a wrist.
I wish I could say that Anabia learnt from it.
But she didn't.
It made me wonder sometimes if Mama's worries about her were right.
*
PRESENT
"Haleem! What are you doing here?" I asked, as I approached the front door of Mama's house.
"For the gazillionth time, it's Hareem, not Haleem. R. Not L." She rolled her blue-green eyes. "And I came to borrow a book of Anabia's."
I used to call Anabia and Hareem 'Naan and Haleem' all the time, and it made me laugh how annoyed they got. "Okay, Haleem."
"Saim!" She narrowed her eyes at me. Her curious gaze went behind me. "Who's that?"
I turned and saw Emaad leaning against my car, his back towards us as he spoke on the phone to someone. "That's Emaad. You remember Shahzaib, my friend from school? That's his older brother."
YOU ARE READING
Unconditionally
Romance'Is age really just a number?' Established author, Rehan Tariq, a thirty-five-years-old single man, is constantly questioned about his marital status. And he always has the same answer for them: "Not now." "If not now, then when?" Even he does not...
