Don't Remind Me

Chapter 17: The Brother

"Let me be the first to say it. If you went out-of-town for the winter break...SPARE US THE INSTAGRAM POSTS! DAGNABBIT! The last thing we wish to see is a bunch of hashtags we were deprived from using this year. #HoodieWeather #WinterTripToNorthPole #SoFun #BeJay.

Just, No.

It makes the rest of us Karachi-bound folks feel idiotic for turning off our fans, at 22 degrees celsius, when you're rolling around in snow somewhere..." - (Nitty Gritty -Issue#758, Jan'15)

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"It's not THAT long." Zaif grumbled at the breakfast table. Maria was busy braiding his hair at my request.

Mama snorted at that. "Maheen told me that she never knew I had a third daughter."

Maria and I giggled at that.

"Noori has longer hair! I don't see everyone losing their minds over his hair!"

"Ali Noor shouldn't be your benchmark for looks, darling." Mama muttered over her newspaper.

I felt lighter at home than I've felt in ages. Everyone was in high spirits.

Mama was happy, and free for once. She didn't have her team breathing down her neck for dress-approvals, and program design suggestions. We'd even given Ruby a day off after her tireless month of added house-work, catering to Mama's wayward employees camping out at our own home. In honor of Zaif's arrival, Mama had made breakfast for us after years. It was so nostalgic eating Traditional Omelette with Parathas. Zaif nearly cried when he was faced with home-made food after so long.

I was in a terrific mood, ever since I got first semester results online. I was very satisfied with my 3.67 GPA, no matter how many times Mama tries to shame me that 'X' Auntie's son, and 'Y' Uncle's daughter scored a 4.0 in their first semester.

Surprisingly jubilant was my sister. She was practically floating with contentment. A beatific smile on her face.

"So. I think I met someone yesterday..." Maria began, shooting a cautious glance at Mama.

This got my attention.

I'd seen Maria hanging out with some of the newer batch of designers who were mostly fresh graduates. These were the people hoping to land internships with the established names of the industry, in order to learn about commercial designing and pimp up their resumes.

"His name is Yasir. He just graduated from NCA." Maria blushed adorably as soon as she signed his name.

I felt an incoming grin creep up my face.

"I think you're head over heels in crush with this one!" I teased, making her turn an even more interesting shade of violet. Zaif was making kissy-faces to rile her further.

"Do you want me to meet him?" Mama's eyes crinkled with good humor over our ribbing.

"Whoever this unfortunate loser is, he isn't good enough for my sister." Zaif announced obnoxiously, digging into his butter-infused Paratha.

Maria tugged at Zaif's pigtails playfully, causing him to threaten her with his buttery fingers. Pretty soon all three of us were engaged in an enthusiastic food fight. Things got serious when Zaif grabbed the squirty ketchup bottle as ammunition. Maria's uninhibited high pitched shrieks actually made Mama laugh lightly at our antics.

Maria only laughs out loud at, or makes unexpected sounds at home. She once told me, it's because she's scared of what she sounds like. Because she can't hear herself, she has no idea how loud, or how annoying she might sound like. She has a morbid fear of making sounds in front of strangers. No matter how many times I tell her that her laugh is beautiful, my sister likes to keep her voice to herself.