About Kismet

4

Kismet stirred awake, her eyes squinting as the morning light brightened the room.

She pulled herself up on her elbows, her bleary eyes darting around the room. It was a moment later that her vision focussed, coming to the subsequent realisation that she had fallen asleep on the couch.

She sat up, noticing that she was alone in the living room. She rubbed her eyes with her hand as she stood up, tugging her ridden-up pant leg down with her other foot.

Stretching, she turned her waist side to side, coincidentally noticing the picture frames on the sill above the fireplace.

She walked towards the frames with a heavy heart, her eyebrows drawn together.

Yuri Tanaka-Khyber was a beautiful, petite and slender woman. She stood next to her husband who was looking down at her, a happy grin lighting up her face as she stared at the camera.

Kismet noticed her once long, thick, straight hair, hanging down to her waist in the picture. It was one of their wedding day pictures.

Her parents often retold the story of their two weddings. One, according to Japanese culture and tradition. The other, an Afghan wedding, complete with the traditional dresses and accessories.

She glanced behind her as she felt another presence, gazing up at her dad with watery eyes.

He slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Today is her kaal," he murmured sadly.

She nodded. It was Valentines Day the day she passed away.

"It's three years now," she responded, uselessly stating something they already knew.

Yuri's death had wrecked both Kismet and her father. It wasn't sudden, no. It was an entire year of slow pain and suffering.

Stage 4 Ovarian Cancer, the doctor had informed them the night she had been admitted to the emergency. There is nothing treatment can do except slow the progression, he would say.

She was a fighter, but how long can someone fight a losing battle. 

Her father pulled her closer, resting his cheek on her head. Kismet could feel him silently crying; a few of his tears wetting her hair.

His and Yuri's love was unparalleled, he would always tell Kismet.

Kismet worried for him, that he would spend the rest of his life alone. He was only in his mid-fifties. But she knew that he hadn't even thought about, let alone consider, giving another love a chance.

And she, selfishly, didn't particularly want him to.

They would be visiting her grave today, as they did every year. Her father, however, he visited her every Friday.

Kismet pulled away from her father, wiping her tears off her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

She sniffled, addressing her father, "Where's Anna?"

Adam cleared his throat, "She left earlier this morning. She wanted to visit Yuri before work."

Kismet nodded. Anna, too, had lost her mother figure when Yuri passed away. They shared a similar grief.

She released a deep breath, motioning with her head. "I'm going to go wash up and change."

Her father nodded, "Kha bachay. I'll be down for 2 PM. We'll go then."

She smiled weakly, agreeing, before making her way out of the living room and up the stairs.

Nudging her door open, she found Professor curled up in her suitcase, atop the clothes.