May 2020
Omar
May 15: COVID-19 Daily Update (S&P Global)
As lifted lockdowns aim to soften some short-term economic pain caused by the coronavirus pandemic, the outlook for the global economy continues to deteriorate. The global death toll has surpassed 300,000, according to Johns Hopkins University, but many experts agree the toll is almost certainly higher. Governments and central banks are advancing their stimulus as unemployment continues to rise, and both demand and consumption across sectors declines.
Standing alone outside the COVID field hospital without my mask, I took a deep breath of fresh air, but instantly regretted opening my phone screen. The very first 'news alert' was a reminder of how frustratingly obnoxious and unfair my father was at a time when when the global economic downturn was hurting everyone, especially the unemployed.
Or in this case, the unjustly accused.
The glimmer of hope I had two weeks ago quickly disappeared when my desperate call to Pakistan was finally answered.
Abu, do you not find it even a little but suspicious that Shadab bhai has the same bag that Naeem sahab used to take the money from your safe? I had tried to reason with my father.
Listen to me carefully, Omar because I am not going to repeat myself, came his venomous reply. This so called love of yours for a low-class girl is blinding you. How dare you accuse your own cousin of stealing when that namak haraam Naeem was caught red-handed? How much more will you disappoint me?
He said he never wanted to hear about this issue again and hung up. Shutting the only avenue I had been able to find for convincing my parents about Madi and I. Yet, standing out here, reading through the article that had randomly popped up on my screen, I took it as a sign that I needed to step up. Not to prove to anyone that I wasn't the disappointment my father considered me to be or because Naeem sahab was Madi's uncle. But because at the end of the day, it was my family that was hurting an innocent man.
It would have to be my family who rectified it as well.
I called another Pakistani number and waited patiently, till an excited female came on FaceTime. "Omar, bro. What's up?"
Smiling at my psuedo-westernized cousin who was always the social outcast of our family, I replied, "Assalam Alaikum, Saima. I'm good. How have you been?"
"Eh," she shrugged. "About ready to murder my brother one of these days, but other than that I'm peachy. But you tell. Aaj apni awesome cousin ko kasai yaad kiya hai?" (How did you remember your awesome cousin today?)
"I need a favor."
She gave me grief for only calling her when I needed her. But unlike my father, didn't hesitate at all when I told her what I was hoping she could do.
"You want me to hire Mr. Naeem in my boutique." She tilted her head to the side. "You do realize that most businesses including mine are operating with minimal staff these days?"
"I know. But I am convinced that he is an honest man with children, and a wife with medical needs. I'll finance his position even. Just hire him as a staff manager or something and tell me where I can send funds for that position."
"Oh, that's ok. I believe you," she shrugged. "There is no bigger thief than my brother anyway."
And that's all it took. Saima said she needed a manager, if not now then in the near future. She was a big name in bridal wear in Pakistan. Pandemic or not, weddings were not going to pause for too long she predicted. Which is why, she insisted on just funding the position herself.
Mr. Naeem, I hoped would soon have a legitimate job. If he accepted the offer.
"Will you tell Madiha?" my cousin asked.
"No. I don't want it to seem like I was taking pity on her family. So, could you keep your association with us under wraps as well."
Secretly, I was afraid that her uncle would refuse to be associated with anyone from Surgilab. Yet, I figured if Ahmed uncle's brother wasn't so cash strapped, he'd be willing to look past my family's background.
That wasn't a bad plan. It would have certainly succeeded - if it hadn't been for the man I loathed.
*******
As COVID-19 forces conferences online, scientists discover upsides of virtual format- Scienceinsider
As the novel coronavirus outbreak shutters businesses and disrupts everyday life for billions around the globe, massive annual conferences and small society meetings alike have moved online. The new format poses numerous technical and organizational challenges, but it also offers opportunities—for reaching wider audiences, reducing the carbon footprint of meeting travel, and improving diversity and equity. For some meetings, the shift may be permanent.
The scientific community is "making lemonade out of lemons," Prosser says. "It's taking [a situation] that's really quite horrible and providing people a way to connect in spite of it all."
I whistled a tune under my N95 while Salman scrolled through an article at a work station next to me at the COVID field hospital.
"I think I will actually attend the peds cardiology conference this year..." he laughed. "From my bed, in my pajamas, sipping on a hot cup of cappuccino."
Sounded like heaven to me, but I couldn't help saying, "I'd love to see Noor react to your lazy butt in bed all day."
The agonizing dip in his voice was instant, "She won't know. I am staying in a hotel these days."
I swung my head to face him, "What? Why?"
"That's a stupid question considering you were the one who took care of her when I nearly killed her from Flu," he replied without looking at me.
Seriously? I wanted to say, but didn't. He was right, I was there when he blamed himself for exposing Noor to Flu which resulted in her getting admitted to the ICU and needing to deliver Ayah prematurely. He was wrong in blaming himself back then, and by most scientific standards he was wrong in staying away from his family now. Yet, he wasn't alone in feeling the need to hole up in some place, fearful of passing the deadly virus to the vulnerable in your family.
It was a feeling many of us were very familiar with. It was the one time in my life I was actually relived that I lived alone. And that threw me off, because I brushed Salman off as just another worried healthcare worker. Not realizing what was really going on behind the N95 mask that hid his emotions so well.
Instead, I tried to make lemonade out of lemons.
"Well, when you are not listening to lectures on peds cardiology you are welcome to watch a movie with us."
"Movie?" he frowned. "All the cinemas are closed."
"Yeah I know. Madi and I order out food and watch movies together online sometimes. I put on Netflix and share my screen with her."
The N95 may have hid his emotions, but it did nothing to hide his smirking eyes. "So, like an online date?"
Date? I had never thought of that. It was just a way for us to unwind since we barely got to see each other in-person. Besides, after that irritating Faraz getting in my face it was heartwarming to realize, again and again, that Madi still chose me.
"Its not a date," I retorted. "We've invited all our residency friends too."
Salman was in no mood to let it go. "Does anyone ever show up?"
"Not yet, but-"
He cut me off with a loud laugh, "Because you're on a date, with Madi. The woman you are insanely crazy about. Who the heck would want to third-wheel that?"
"Oh shut up," I muttered, glad that the N95 hid my emotions as well. There was no greater truth than that spoken by an annoying man who knew exactly how I felt: insanely crazy in love.
*******
A Couple of Days Later on a Saturday Evening
Indian romantic comedy without too much drama or romance - check
Ordering and delivering of a fancy meal to respective places - check
Laptop plugged in and charged - check
Zoom link sent - check
Up until now, our virtual movie nights (not dates) were mainly filled with action-packed thrillers and enigmatic mysteries. It was clear that Madi was growing a bit tired of my movie preferences. A few days back, when she let out a groan at the mention of the movie 'Greenland,' which revolves around a comet striking Earth, I gave her the reins to choose whatever she wanted. Her selection was '3 Idiots,' true to its name, a hilarious comedy.
Feeling generous, and tired of our usual pizza routine, I insisted on ordering food from a Michelin-starred restaurant that had recently started offering delivery at a fraction of its usual dine-in cost. After some back-and-forth, she finally settled on her choice of entrée and sent it over in a text.
I ordered extra for her parents and siblings too, hoping that the way to her family's heart was through their stomach. A guy can hope, right?
With COVID wreaking havoc across the globe, we had been tirelessly working for nearly two months straight. Organizing these weekly virtual evenings with the woman who had captured my heart, even if we were stuck in limbo, was the sole lifeline keeping me from complete burnout.
The clock struck 7 pm, and my laptop came to life. A flicker of its screen indicated her presence too.
Her camera finally came to life, unveiling her radiant, heartfelt smile. Wearing a white kurti, she sat on her bed in a darkened room while the warm light from her computer screen caressed the contours of her striking features.
It had been a few days since I had last seen her without a mask. It wasn't that her image had faded from my memory, she just seemed different than before. An unspoken desire welled within me to ask: how have you become even more gorgeous in the midst of a pandemic?
Whether it was the amalgamation of emotions and pixels on my 16-inch laptop screen or the gentle voice that came through asking if I could hear her, my heart flipped, I could feel my skin heat up - all forcing me to avert my gaze from the woman who owned me in entirety.
"Omar?" she called out to me again.
"Yeah?" I gathered myself and replied.
"Ami and Abu were saying thank you for the food. They loved the fish steak."
"Great. Do you think they'll be open to letting me marry you without the support of my parents then?" I got straight to the point, catching her off guard.
"Uh I don't know," she replied slowly. Her endearing smile disappeared. "Are you saying your parents will never get on-board?"
"Yes." I sighed, couldn't even look at my screen. But I owed her the truth and there was no other way to interpret the conversation with my father from a few days ago. I had reached the end of the line with my parents and their biases.
"Then we have no other choice, do we?"
I dared to look up at her. Even through the screen I could see the unwavering commitment in her eyes. The reassurance I desperately sought. In the midst of my world crumbling, the sleepless nights and lonely days, the frustration of not being in control of any facet of my existence, I had Madi. Always there. Solidly in my corner.
She didn't wait for me to reply.
"Let me think about when to bring this up though. I still have to convince them to let me get a place to live in downtown instead of living with them. I am so afraid of bringing something home and at their ages COVID will be devastating. Besides, with the schedule we have these days it makes no sense to spend an hour in commute alone."
I heard everything she said, even agreed with it. Her concern was no different than Salman's. Yet, my brain was stuck on only part of what she had said - a place to live in downtown.
"Have you looked at any apartments?" I asked her.
"Yes, a few online."
"How long of a rental contract do you have to sign?"
"Depends. Some are ok with paying a month-to-month rent, others require a minimum of 6-months contract."
I immediately shook my head, "Take the month-to-month lease."
She frowned slightly, "That's more expensive that the 6-month one."
I had expected that. It made my heart sink anyway. Because, while she was looking at the cost of the apartment, I was trying to imagine what it would be like not getting married to her and living apart for another 6-months. Maybe, even longer.
I couldn't even imagine it.
Madiha
Discussing my housing options in the downtown area was not why I had logged onto my computer that evening. Neither did it occur to me that I needed to run anything by the handsome intern on the other side of the screen. Or that he would object to my decisions.
At any other time that might have irked me. Instead, what he said next made me nearly melt into a puddle and convinced me to gladly pay the extra few hundred dollars for the month-to-month lease.
"You already have a place in downtown, Madi," he said softly.
I was still looking at the screen, confused about which place he was talking about when he suddenly got up from the sofa he seemed to be sitting on.
"Look, I'll show you," he said.
His camera swung around, "This is your living room. I don't have too much furniture in here, but we can go shopping for anything you'd like."
He walked a few more steps, and opened a door. A king size bed came into view. With plain white sheets against a dark brown headboard. "This bed set is a hand-me-down from Sehr, but we can get a proper one later and move this into the guest room. Whatever you want to do."
Realization sunk in quickly that the place I already had in downtown was his, that he was desperately hoping would soon become ours.
"Omar-" I tried to get his attention, but he had already moved on to another spot.
"Look at the view of Lake Michigan from here," he exclaimed. "You can see the most beautiful sunrise." I could imagine it too. Me and him standing there at the start of a busy day, watching the sun kiss the horizon, while he kiss-
My cheeks flushed. I stopped that train of thought immediately. It was not a place I could go to just yet. Get a grip on yourself.
"How's the kitchen?" I asked to distract myself.
For a brief moment, Omar's grinning face came on the screen. "You'll love it," he said.
He wasn't wrong. The modern contemporary kitchen, with its clean, refined lines, stainless steel appliances, elegant granite surfaces, polished minimalist cabinetry, and strategically positioned LED lighting, all within a tranquil palette of subdued grays and whites, was exactly the haven I often envisioned myself in on a leisurely weekend. Hustling around the place, while I cooked culinary delights for my family, everything from delectable seasonal fruit desserts to healthy meals ready for the busy weekdays ahead.
I noticed something on one of the counters that made me pause and ask, "You drink coffee now?" The image on the screen became larger. Omar had moved closer to the expensive looking steel grey espresso machine. It seemed brand new. Part of the bubble wrap was still on.
The screen swung around and he came in to view.
"I don't," he replied hesitantly. "I actually was thinking of how to make this apartment ready for you, and the first thing that came to mind was a coffee machine. I found a good one online, so I bought it." He shrugged, and maybe it was just the lighting in that kitchen, but I could have sworn his cheeks had a rosy hue.
Just like mine had, at the thought of him making his apartment ready for me.
"See," he said with a smile. "You have a place in downtown. All that is left is for you to come and make it a home."
"I can't wait." I told him a truth from the bottom of my heart. Perhaps, it was time for me to have that talk with my parents as well.
*******
I had watched '3 idiots' plenty of times before. It was my go-to movie when I needed a little pick me up. Plus that whole baby being born on a table tennis table was so hilariously inaccurate it made me feel smart just watching it. Yet, it was a whole new experience hearing Omar laugh and watching him roll his eyes at the exact moments I did. I could only imagine what it would feel like snuggling up close to him on the sofa while watching movies, in our own apartment.
That is why I didn't waste a moment after I shut my laptop to head downstairs, ready to reveal the truth about Omar's parents to mine. I just hoped that I could convince them Omar wasn't like his parents and that I wanted their blessing to get married to him against his own family's wishes.
Instead, I found myself abruptly halting at the sight of a guest when I entered the living room. Despite the mask covering his face, I instantly recognized the man wearing glasses.
"Faraz?" I blurted out.
"Assalam Alaikum Madiha," he nodded towards me and replied politely.
"Walaikum Assalam. What are you doing here?" The disfain in my voice did not go unnoticed by my mother.
"Yeh konsa tareeka hai baat karne ka Madi. Mehmaan hain woh humare," she immediately chided me. (What way is this to talk to someone. He is our guest)
"Koi baat nahi hai, Aunty. This is such a stressful time for all the healthcare workers. I don't blame doctors for having a short fuse," he said to my mother, sweetly. (Doesn't matter)
Short fuse? How dare he- my father spoke up before angry thoughts became ugly words.
"Madiha beti, he was just here inquiring about our health," Abu said to me gently, then turned towards him again. "Faraz, Madiha makes amazing chai. Would you like some?"
Me, make chai for him? I'd rather punch him. Or drop hot liquid on his smug face. Thoughts of how best to hurt this man circled in my mind. Thankfully, he didn't drink chai late at night, and instead he started to get up.
"I should get going, but I have no doubt that we can find a position for Naeem uncle at our Dubai offices. My company would be more than happy to sponsor his visa as well," he told Abu, capturing my attention.
"Wait, Naeem Tayaa already has a job. Isn't that what you said just yesterday, Abu?"
"At a boutique, in Karachi. But this is an opportunity to go to Dubai," Abu smiled like he had just discovered a pot of gold. "Besides, who knows if this Pakistani company will end up being like that kambakhat Surgilab. Ameer logoan ka pata thori hota hai." (You can't tell about these rich people)
How I wished Abu hadn't taken that name: Surgilab. Because out into the open, that name and what it meant to me became instantly obvious to Faraz.
"Kambakhat Surgilab, huh?" He turned to look at me. The smirk on his face wasn't hidden by his mask. Before I could stop him, he uttered to Abu, "You mean the company that your future son-in-law will inherit?"
Abu's face contorted, "What?"
"Yes uncle. Or has Madiha not told you about Omar's family being the owner's of Surgilab," Faraz scoffed. He didn't stop there. "I have always said that company has dubious practices. I am not surprised to hear they treat their workers like crap. That whole family is made of blood-sucking money makers."
"Abu, Omar is not-" I tried to speak up in front of my father who was glaring at me. He raised a finger.
"Khabardaar tum ne, uss larke ka naam bhi liya iss ghar mein. Jo family Naeem bhai ki itni beizzati karsakti hai woh tumhari izzat kabhi nahi karegi." My father spit the words. The softness I had always seen in his eyes was long gone. In its place was the hurt from gaping wounds inflicted from a society that had always considered the likes of him as inferior.
(Don't you dare take that boy's name in this house. The family that disrespected Naeem bhai so much will never respect you)
"Abu, Omar is not like that," I pleaded again. Abu simply held up a hand to me and gestured to Faraz.
"Thank you, beta for coming over. And for telling us the truth. Madiha ki aankhon per tou parda para huwa hai." (Madiha has a veil over her eyes)
The two went out the front door. While I stood still in my living room, paralyzed with fear and disbelief. How different this moment had been than what I had envisioned when I shut my laptop just a few minutes ago. The apartment I had just seen, the contemporary kitchen with a coffee machine just for me, snuggling in the arms of the man I loved - all seemed nothing but a vanishing dream now.
In a last ditch effort to stop my whole life from derailing I marched out after my father and Faraz. Abu was standing in the doorway, his guest already in the car. I ran out the door and knocked on the Mercedes' window before he could leave.
"Why did you come here, Faraz?" I demanded to know. It couldn't simply be to 'check-in' on my parents. He had no business doing that.
His mask came off, and with that any pretense of genuine sympathy. His lips twitched, "You went to my parents, I thought it was only fair to go to yours."
"Besides..." he straightened up, "I never lose to losers."
"What's the matter, Madiha?" I heard my father say as he walked up next to me.
Faraz answered for me with a wide smile, "Nothing uncle. I was just telling Madi that life is full of options. When one door closes, another one opens."
Abu gave a solemn nod. I suppressed the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Faraz started the engine, exchanged a farewell, and drove away, carrying with him any semblance of tranquility in my life.
"Please listen to me, Omar..." I tried to speak again.
"That door is closed, Madi," Abu replied, and headed back into the house.
*******
The truth had to come out somehow. Are Madi's parents wrong in closing the door to Omar?
It is mid-May, international travel was still restricted. Phone conversations are clearly not working for Omar's family. Where do Madi and Omar go from here?
Does Faraz really have a thing for Madi?
All this and more to come for in the next few chapters. I am not going to drag this story out, but there are some very important points I want to make with it, so will try to wrap up in the next 10 chapters or so. Thanks for reading.
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