Strings Attached

~Chapter 13~

"I'll try not to, dadi. I just don't want to be sad anymore. I want to grow up, accomplish something, do things for you and dad, make people happy and please my Lord." "That's a lot of things you've taken upon yourself to do, don't you think?" my only grandparent makes light of my plans, and it's provoking. "I'm seriously serious, dadi! Don't make fun of me."

"Achha, I won't. Don't get upset with your dadi, my gudiya." And the way she tries to pacify me, makes me want to kiss her wrinkled cheeks. "I won't, ever. God! I feel like giving you a tight hug. But I'll have to pass that up... sigh." And I do sigh in reality.

"It's alright, my darling. You can hug your phone like always." "True." I ponder over it for a while and realize something odd about her dialogue. Something that doesn't strike like her usual self. I can't place it for a second and then I realize with much surprise what she said. "Dadi?! When did you learn to say 'darling'!?!" She lets out a low laugh at that, the sound of which is luxurious to my ears and I involuntarily laugh too.

"But seriously, when did you? You didn't say such fancy things before, as far as I remember." "Your old granny is a modern dadi. She knows these things without anyone telling her," she tells me matter of factly in a proud voice. "Yeah, I know how modern you are, my dearest granny," I let her know that I don't buy it for a minute.

"Humph! Girls these days!!" she grumbles to herself and then proceeds to tell me that it was my clod of a sister (meaning Raafiah) who was saying this to someone on the phone and she simply copied her. I want to laugh out loud at this admission and contrary to my resolution, I do. And I don't just laugh out loud, I guffaw.

I fervently thank the Lord that she didn't say it to anybody else.

"You're a wonder, dadi, I tell you. By the way, when did you hear her say it? Are you in Delhi right now?" "Yes, I'm with your Abba (father) in Delhi. I only came yesterday. Do you want to talk to your sister?" "No, not yet. I want to talk to you a little more. Besides, I talked to her for more than two hours a few days ago. I have no other gossip to tell her at the moment."

"Alright gudiya." I'm glad dadi is with dad for a while. I don't like her to live in such a lonely old house in our hometown. But she's adamant to live and die there. The house is gloomy and depressing, not at all fit to live in. On top of that, all my aunts keep haranguing her there to either sell the place and divide the share among her children or let it out to make some use of it. As if dadi living there isn't enough use of it!

Dadi's eldest daughter is the foremost and worst promoter of the idea.

"How's everyone by the way?" I ask her, meaning more than my family by my query. "Everyone is well, by the grace of Allaah SWT. You are sorely missed." "I miss them too, dadi." And this time, I mean my family (not excluding my only grandparent) and solely them. I don't care a might for anyone else to miss them!

Although that's not true and I know that.

"Can I ask you something, dadi?" I inquire, a little unsure. Seeing as how close we are, it's surprising that I've never talked to her about it. But now, I want to know her opinion and have her advice. "Yes, darling, anything." A faint smile comes to my lips when she uses the newest addition to her vocabulary. "What do you think about Amir?" I don't add 'bhai' this time.