1. Red Daihatsu

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"Are you sure?"

Picking the books from the center table, I glanced up at my sister who was  peeking up from the couch, her  eyebrows raised.

I smiled. "Affirmative."

"Okay." Bisma drawled, and then gave a nod. "See you at night then. Bye."

Hurriedly taking the keys from the hook above the teapoy, I started towards the main door.

"You're not taking the scarf with you today?"

I stopped and arched my body to look at her and found her staring at me, poised in the same manner as before. I shurgged. "No."

"Ready to have a bad day, then?"

A soft laugh escaped my mouth. Merely calling some thing lucky doesn't make it lucky. I never believed in such superstitions anyway. Things don't make you lucky, or unlucky for that matter. You just are lucky. Or you can make yourself lucky by praying. "As if. Tell father to not wait for me at dinner."

"Sure." Bisma chirped and turning around she dropped back onto the couch. "Bye." I heard her say, almost as an afterthought and securing the heavy weight of the thick medical books in my arms, I started forward.

Taking brisk steps, I walked through the door and strode towards the driveway. Baba Farid was already waiting for me by my car, and at his sight I unconsciously squared my shoulders and raised my chin, strutting on my heels with a haughty swagger. He opened the front door once I approached and I climbed in, securing my seat. The door was closed and after inserting the key into the ignition, I started the engine of my Daihatsu Copen I demanded be given to me at the start of college. Father obliged of course, he had never said no to us. The gates already stood ajar and I revved out of the house, heading towads college.

As much as I hated the hectic routine of the module, it was admittedly no doubt the most fascinating of them all. Horried and equally awed I had stared with numbed senses, wide eyed, rooted to the ground, the complicated and grosteque process of labor unfolding in front of me. Agonized shrieks of the women, coaxing husbands by the side, and an ushering doctor between the legs, all of it made a sight so petrifying my blood went cold by the screams. But then the baby would peek, initially there would only be just a head, and if the woman was lucky the rest of it came out quick, else it took a lot more than a few minutes. And then there was the digusting glob of meat at the end. You guessed right - placenta.

The labor and the OR had both been tiring, only allowing me to be home as late as eight at night. But on the other hand the horror and exhaustion was always taken over by the fondness and awe for what had just been transpired. I mean really, there is beauty in every work of Allah. Just look how He makes things possible. Even though the women were drained of energy, their faces contorted in fatigue, they'd forget their pain and would  ask the nurse if the baby was alright. To know that this was worth all the searing torment made incredulity seep up to my heart. In the start I had second thoughts about ever giving birth, but now, well now I thought I was up for it.

The module was almost to an end now though, within a week we'd have our viva and then in a couple days the final exam, and as extraordinary as it was, I'd really take a sigh of relief when it'll be over for good. And yeah, I didn't want to persue it for specialisation.

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My head resting on the couch, eyes closed, I had taken refuge in the staff lounge subsequently excusing myself after the hours of the clinic, wanting a tea break. It had hardly been only a minute since I had settled down after preparing myself a cup of tea when I heard someone plop down beside me, and I knew without looking that it was Ramlah.

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