Don't Remind Me

Chapter 27: The Lilies

"I'm convinced that group projects were created by Satan, to test the horizons of student stress-to-CGPA ratios. Allow me to break down the typical composition of any group;

*The Doer: Actually does his/her share of work on time. (Might just be a myth. Like Mermaids. Or Atlantis.)

*The Sayer: Says He/She will do the work, but actually doesn't. (Wajib-ul-qatal this one).

*The No-Show: He/She disappears seconds after joining the project, and reappears seconds before the submission deadline. They don't care that the rest of the team is struggling, or that the project is worth 20% of the overall grade.

*The Weakest Link: Has the enthusiasm, humor and boundless energy to support The Doers, but lacks expertise, knowledge and everything else needed to make the project a success. (We call them "Kaaf Say Kacchee" in Urdu.)

*The Negotiator: Cleverly volunteers to do the easiest job in the project (i.e. Printing the report, or changing the presentation slides, or something like that), then sits back and relaxes while the rest of the group is contemplating communal suicide.

*Batman: Every group has a dark knight. The one you don't deserve, but the one you desperately need. He/She swoops in at the last moment, just as the train is about to run off the broken bridge, or the bomb is about to pop off. They are focused, organized, smart and you better kiss their asses for the rest of the semester, if you want that A-minus...... (Nitty Gritty, Issue Number, 1009, April, 2015)

"Let's see how many of you remember the rules from last time!" I called out to the sea of five year olds. "What should we do if someone gives us an un-safe touch?"

The chorus of "Pick me! Pick me!" drowned out Ms. Delores' chiding plea for discipline.

"Saadi? would you like to share with us?" I pointed at the excited-looking chubby kid.

"WE SHOULD ASK AN ADULT FOR HELP!" He yelled enthusiastically.

"Woah, man! I can't hear you! you speak too softly!" Azaan pretended to pout, making the class giggle.

I was so nervous about the final play the next day, that I hadn't even taken the time to fully appreciate his unusually conscientious wardrobe choice for today. As a Junior-year student, he was applying for different recruitment drives for a summer internship. He had a screening phase interview in the afternoon today.

Since most Multinationals frowned upon faded jeans, and leather jackets during interviews, he was neatly dressed in a dark blue dress-shirt, the cuffs folded back, paired with crisp khaki chinos. His close-trimmed beard was a mere shadow, darkening over his lips, and under the stubborn jut of his chin. His ear-stud was missing.

He caught me staring, and surreptitiously winked at me, dark eyes sparkling with intelligent humor.

My heart skipped a beat. And I turned away from him, resisting the urge to tousle up his neatly tamed hair. It looked really soft, barely brushing against his nape.

"I WANT MY CANDY NOW!" Saadi yelled at the same tempo, making the kids laugh some more. Azaan obligingly offered him his pick from the "Treasure Chest" (candy basket) as the kids called it.

"Very good Saadi!" My eyes searched for Amina, for the next question, but I couldn't find her. I tried not to let my confusion spread across my face. "Who can tell me the un-safe parts of their body?...Yes, Rabia?..."