Saira Malik
"Mom we have our flight the day after tomorrow. And how can we still be shopping around?"
I groaned, carrying the million shopping bags inside the house. Mom shut the door behind her, rolling her eyes at me. Bhai appeared from his room, saying Salam and descended the stairs taking the bags from Mom in his one hand and walked away.
I look at his shocked, my mouth falling to the floor.
"Bhai, mere hath me bhi bags the!"
Without looking back, he walked further and dropped all the bags on the floor, crashing on the couch and flashed me a smirk.
Huffing, I drag my wobbly legs to the living room. Letting go of the stone weighing bags, I collapse on the couch.
Ah! Finally something soft to lay your butt on.
I kicked my shoes off, and peeled the socks away and flexed my fingers. Pulling my legs up, I get comfortable laying on my side. I stretch my stiff muscles for a good seconds before shutting my eyes. A small content smile tugging on my lips.
I groaned when someone kicked me. "Not now, Bhai. I'm gonna faint. Mom dragged me from store to store of that huge plaza. She didn't let me buy something to eat. All I had was cereal in the morning. " I whined, turning the other side, facing the couch.
Ever since Dad announced that we'll be going to Hyderabad for the summer, Mom had totally lost it. I mean it literally. She's lost her sh*t.
She ordered stuffs online, and kept visiting every other store she can.
But not buying anything from, because she didn't find anything worth.
The hell dude! Who does that?
Spending hours in a store, going through all the aisles, inspecting things like you are so into and and ready to pay. But you come back empty handed!
I felt fingers tracing my bare feet. The simple gesture triggering me.
"Dammit it!"
I shot up, coming face to face with Bhai. Who was trying so hard to keep himself from laughing. I felt anger surging with me.
"IT'S NOT FUNNY, SHOKOOR MALIK!" I roared, slamming my fisted hands on the couch.
Every cell in my body ached. My hands were still numb from carrying those f*cking bags around. Mom didn't let me sit for 5 minutes straight. Running around the floors. My legs hurt and I am on my f*cking period!
I wanted to yell and throw things at him. But I didn't have the strength in me to do it. I felt someone, pull my hand and my torso backwards. I didn't have to turn to see who it was, because I could feel his touch.
Instantly, my head went to his chest as I complained about everything thing to my Father.
"Papa, bhai tang karre!"
"It's okay, I'll tell him not to." He consoled, and I felt relieved.
I don't what it is about the Father-Daughter bond. But, it's undescribable. You have to feel it, to know it.
No matter how old you are, you are still your daddy's little princess. He holds you, fights for you, let you cry on his shoulder, whenever you need. You can tell him anything you want and complain about things and he'll be like 'it's okay, I'll tell him not to do it', when it comes to Bhai.
I smile at him, and at myself.
"Did your mother trouble you alot?" He whispered.
I nod my head, against his chest. "She didn't let me buy anything. All these," I gesture to the bags "are for the family. You won't find a single thing for me." I pouted.
I heard a gasp. "Such a liar. When ever I showed her something, she'd say 'it's lovely. I'll take it'. And now, you're complain to your father?" Mom stood glaring at us, but more at me with her hands on her hips.
Dad moved to glance at me, and I give him a sheepish smile.
All of us went back to opening the bags and mom showing everything we got.
For the bride, the groom, bade papa's family, dad's sisters, their husbands, their children, mom's in laws, her nieces and nephews, dad's nieces and nephews, his in laws, his friends, Maqsood Abdullah's family, the caretaker of the house, the cook, the watchman and some more for the entire neighborhood. And if we have something left for someone, then add that too.
My mouth fell to the floor, on seeing so much luggage. And how mom was trying to fit a handbag she bought, into an already overflowing suitcase.
I roll my eyes at her Desiness. If it weren't for all the ZaidAli's desi videos I had watched, I would think that all this, the things she's doing now, is normal. But they are not!
"Okay! We're done." Dad said, after neatly arranging the luggage in the corner of the room, looking at the stacked suitcases by the wall. Packed and weighed.
"We'll leave tomorrow midnight, inshallah." He announced, before turning to head upstairs to his room.
Suddenly, a gasp left my mouth as the realization hit me. I am going to India. To Hyderabad.
I will be away from home, from Bhai for a whole 2 months!
"Kiya hua?" Bhai asked me with furrowed brows. "Did you forget anything?"
"I am going, bhai. I won't be seeing you for 2 months." I tell him.
He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Now the drama begins."
"I won't be sleeping on my bed for 2 months, I can't eat Takis, or Halal Guys, or Dunkin', or Sagar Chinese or Junior's cheesecake. I can't just take a subway to Manhattan. I can't spend hours in Time Square gazing at the screens mindlessly. I can't go to Six Flags. I can't do so many things!" I pause, holding my head in my hands. Panicking at the sudden thoughts.
"Does Netflix work in India? Can I order stuff from Amazon using my account? Can I--"
"SAIRA!"
"What?" I snap. Bhai made his way towards me, and sat on the couch, taking my hands in his.
"Calm down. Close your eyes and take a deep breath." I do as he says, shut my eyes and take several deep breaths.
When I open them again, Bhai looks at me, with a smile on his face. "Better?"
"Much." I say honestly.
"Now, it will do you no good, to stress on that tiny brain of yours. You'll see everything for yourself, once you go there. About staying 2 months away from home, you'll be fine. I promise. Mom and dad will take care of you. You will have so many people around you that, you'll forget all about here." He cajoled, giving me an encouraging smile.
I nod my head in understanding, opening my mouth to say something but he beat me to it.
"And about Manhattan," He paused, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We have a whole day tomorrow."
"You mean..." I trail off. Bhai nodded his head, lifting my mood.
"Yay!" I jumped up and down in my seat, hugging Bhai.
He stopped me, mid air, holding my arms. "But, on one condition."
I blink my eyes at him, asking what the condition is.
"A hot oil massage. Tonight."
"What?!...no."
"Choose wisely, bachi. A hot oil massage can take you to Manhattan for a day." He smirked.
Urgh! Why does he have to be the smart ass he is!
A hot oil massage! Really?
I can't even think about dipping my fingers in that thing. It's so greasy. Eww! And bhai, the desi boy he is, likes a coconut oil massage with the 'Tail Malish' song running in the background. I don't know how do people bear that thing on their head. The coconut oil! It smells horrible.
I scrunch my nose in disgust. While bhai wiggled his brows at me. Waiting for my answer.
Like I will do it! Yeah, right. I scoff mentally.
But, the idea of spending a day in Manhattan was way too tempting. And even if it wanted me to give Bhai a head massage... I will do it.
"Fine." I huff, while bhai shot me a goofy smile.
XOXO
~𝓓𝓲𝓱𝓪