Star Dazed

Chapter Fifteen: Unforgettable Dinner

See, the torture on me.

My entire back is sweating. I feel sore and numb. The subtle energy has been drained out of my body - like a vacuum pump sucker.

"Maahirah!" Once again, Mom does the courtesy of knocking once on my door, and then barreling in.

"Geez, Mom, at least, knock!" I make my bend posture erect.

"I knocked." Mom smiles.

"You're supposed to knock three times, and you knocked once!" I say.

"Whatever. Anyways, I just want to tell you this that put on your best outfit!"

"Why?" I frown.

"Just because I said so." She grins.

"Okay." I nod.

Mom exits my room. And, I, quickly, get up and lock my room.

Best outfit? Hmm, now, why does Mom wants me to put on my best outfit? I click my tongue, rapidly.

Oh, well. I need a warm shower, and then I'll decide what to wear and what not.

******************

I dig in my closet, pulling all the hangers one by one - at side. None of the clothes are according to my taste today. When Mom said 'best outfit' she obviously meant traditional outfit. Unfortunately, for me I don't own much traditional dresses. I've a few but either they are too casual or too outgoing or either too stylish.

After a good half an hour of endless search, I pick out a simple black long Kameez- a white lace adorned at its bottom edge on the front side, and around the neckline - I pull out white tights. I smile at my laid out dress. Perfect!!!

I quickly shrug into them. Running a brush through my hair, I tie them into a bun - making sure not a single lock escapes. I drape a white dupatta around my head. Slipping on some bangles, I look at my reflection in the mirror and wince.

There is something about mirrors. They are like an open book, and show only the truth. Every person will be glad if for once mirrors show something fake or unreal and not the actual you.

However, that's not the reality. Mirrors show the hidden. And, when they show that, a person can give birth to two new traits; he either becomes too conceited and proud or he loses all self confidence and wallows in self-vulnerability.

Me, I'm somewhere in between. Sometimes I despise my looks and sometimes, I just shrug it feeling lucky or something. Today, I feel wrath evaporating from my body. My turquoise eyes stare back at me, all wide and angry. My fair skin red. I feel intimidated at myself. Am I not capable of defending myself? Is it written all over my face? Huh?? Am I that timid looking? And not fierce?! I blink furiously.

Turning away from the mirror, I count till three. I'm sure if I stared at myself a bit longer I might have ended up screaming at myself. I need to compose my erratic heartbeat. I pull out the locket and run my finger over the emerald. Sometimes, I wonder what is this supposed to mean? Why did Mum leave me this? My heartbeat is reduced. Yaay!!

I know, I'm weird, and you needn't to tell me that!

The doorbell's ring echoes in my room, but it reverberates in my ears even after the chime of it has ended. I fling my cell phone on my bed, and tug the chain under my shirt or Kameez. I rush downstairs. Somehow, my heart pace hasn't reduced as it has increased tenfold, minus-ingthe chances of calming down.

When I'm at the bottom step, Aunty Doniya is entering. I walk up to her and politely greet her. However, she needed to get bit lousy or something because she pulls me in a tight hug. I simply pat her back, quite awkwardly.