LEFTOVER KHICHRI

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Mubashir's glasses glinted in the warm glow of the living room chandelier. His eyes were trained on the basement door, patiently waiting for Zakariya to appear with the toolbox. Shasmeen lingered a few feet away, twisting a tassel of the curtain in impatience. She was at the threshold of the sliding door, palming her phone and watching the minutes pass in wait for Abdullah's call.

She had spent all afternoon preparing for the said phone call, rehearsing her words, running her ideas through and practicing with Aaliyah. She had even drunk lots of water to keep her throat moist and voice clear, but exactly seventeen minutes before the scheduled call, her brother and brother's brother-in-law had appeared at the door, in search of a particular tool they needed to take back to Mubashir's apartment to fix a window.

How does he always gatecrash when he is not needed? Her knee started bobbing in annoyance.

"Meena, why don't you attend the call in my bedroom? There's mosquitoes outside at this time," Aaliyah bhabi said, coming from the kitchen with hot chocolate for the girls.

Shasmeen shot a glare in Mubashir's direction. "Thanks, bhabi." She usually avoided going into her older brother's room simply because there were other rooms to choose from. But the phone signals were best on the first floor, and the most convenient option after the living room—who Mubashir was hogging—was her brother and bhabi's bedroom.

"Good luck, Aapi," Zernab called out from the couch. She raised her steaming mug, sending her blessings.

"Yeah Aapi, break a leg," Haniya added, not entirely understanding the context of their conversation.

Shasmeen grinned to herself. Nasrun min Allahi, wa fat'hun kareeb. Help from Allah, and victory, near at hand. (61:13)

7:00.

Leaving the door wide open, Shasmeen plopped down on the couch in the darkness, and waited. As the minutes ticked closer, she reflected over how absurd it was judging someone on something as little as how punctual they were. If he calls at seven pm sharp, he's responsible and disciplined, and probably doesn't have trouble waking up for fajr. If he calls more than two minutes late, he might just be running late for whatever reason. If he calls more than five minutes late, he's laid back and probably a little disrespectful to other's time. He might need several reminders to do things, and might just have some hidden red flags. She frowned at how critical she sounded in her head. But if he apologizes for being late, then what? Apologies neither undid actions, nor erased pain, but apologies did mean acknowledging one's mistakes and alluding towards doing better next time. It is only Al-Afuww who forgives and leaves no traces of our sins.

7:03.

Shasmeen ran her eyes over the bedroom, tracking all the minute changes since she had last stepped foot in there. The tall lampshades had been switched to a cream from a sage green, so had the curtains. The rug at the foot of the armchairs had been swapped for a design that matched the colors of the room. The bed was back in the middle, equal distances from the cupboards and window. Three years ago she, Zakariya bhai, and Talha, had pushed the bed closer to the window to make space for a bedside crib on the cupboards side. The crib had been quite a marvelous thing, it was lightweight, easy to assemble, but so very sturdy. You could shake it like a 9.0 earthquake and it wouldn't budge. Shasmeen had looked at it and wondered if it came in adult size, she wouldn't mind sleeping with her parents now and then.

7:12.

The cell phone rang, filling the pregnant silence. Shasmeen scrambled to answer it immediately.