Farah
"Come on hurry up", I heard a knock on the bathroom stall.
"Give me a second! It's so difficult to change in this cramped space"
Ameerah and I were back in the student hostels getting ready for the Afterparty. As we were told by the young lady who handed me the 250 Euros as prize money, the conference encouraged students to work hard and then party harder. That should have been our first indication of what we would encounter, but the naive young women that we were, we just happily walked over to our rooms to put on our casual clothes.
The hostel was made up of several rooms, each with 6-8 bunk beds, and a large common area with a kitchenette and a table tennis setup along with several comfy sofas and floor cushions. Ameerah and I were assigned to two different rooms, and when we had tried to change it so we were in the same room, we were told that the assignment was random and were encouraged to get to know people other than those who we already knew.
All the beds in our rooms were occupied with people's belongings by the time we had reached the hostel that morning. We were already running late for my presentation so we too dumped our things and hurried out. When we had returned later that afternoon there was still only a couple of females in either of our rooms.
"Where is everyone?", I asked one of the other girls in my room who was sitting on the lower part of one of the bunk beds trying on a pair of aviator style sunglasses that seemed vaguely familiar.
"They're at the pool party", she told me, tossing the glasses on to the mattress of the top bunk.
Wow...there is a pre-party for the afterparty!
There was no way I was joining anyone in the co-ed swimming pool, so Ameerah and I decided to walk to a small museum we had noticed on campus and check out their exhibition on the history of East and West Germany. After WWII parts of Germany that were liberated by the the American, British and French formed West Berlin and the Soviet sector became East Berlin. The wall between these two sections, also called the Berlin Wall, would remain in place for 45 years after that. Dividing the nation, and with it families and friends, businesses and neighborhoods. The two parts of Germany finally unified in 1990.
"Imagine if Kamran was on one side of the wall and you on the other. How long would you be willing to wait for him?", Ameerah asked in a serious tone.
The idealist answer would have been 'forever', but I was never an idealist. And while Kamran and I were not separated by a wall, just a vast stretch of land and water, Ameerah's question was as valid for me in real life today, as it may have been if I was living in Germany pre-1990.
"I'd wait as long as he was willing to wait"
"And if he got married to someone else, would you move on?"
"I'd try to move on. I not am sure I would succeed"
She smiled and squeezed my shoulder, "Well I may not know much about men but something tells me that a man who writes a 1000 word essay in an email to you would wait for you forever. So I am sure you'll never face the dilemma of needing to move on"
I could only hope that was true, because I was beginning to realize that I was too far gone with my feelings for him, to turn around now.
"Acha come on, forget about Kamran for a bit. Let's go have some fun. Besides, I am still single as ever and now your job is to find me someone too", Ameerah pulled my arm while almost skipping out of the museum.
"You want me to find you someone here? We're only here for 3 days"
"Apparently even 2 days is enough to fall in love", she winked at me.
"I don't know him well enough to be in love with him yet, but point taken", I admitted.
By the time we got to the party dusk was falling, the crisp cool autumn air made the two of us huddle together as we both blamed the other for not looking at the weather before packing cotton shirts and flimsy trousers.
"Wow!", we both said in unison, when we entered the foyer of the convention center.
Instead of the dull grey and white walls punctuated only with welcome signs and some scientific jargon, the walls were now adorned with glittery streamers while the multicolored strobe lights bathe the place in hues of blue, red and yellow. In the middle of the foyer several dozens of our fellow students were dancing to the blaring music, their bodies mingling in a way that if my Nano had seen it the music would have been drowned out by her cries of Astaghfirullah.
Long tables lined the sides of the foyer, and were filled with all sorts of hors d'oeuvre laid out on gigantic platters. A quick survey of the labels in front of them told me that there wasn't much we could eat that was halal, other than some raw veggies with a dip.
"I don't think I am allowed to be at this kind of a party", I whispered to Ameerah.
"Farah, loosen up a little. You'll probably never come to Berlin again. Come on. I am thirsty", Ameerah grabbed my hand again and led me to the corner table where someone was handing out drinks, including to my surprise, champagne and beer. This was a student event, and most of us were below 21 years of age.
"How come there is alcohol here?", I whispered to Ameerah.
"Who knows, guess its a European thing. Let's just have some juice", she whispered back just as our turn in line came.
"Could we have that fruit punch please?", Ameerah pointed to a bowl with orange liquid in which chunks of fruit were floating around.
But one sip of the fruit punch had me questioning my friend again, "Doesn't it taste weird?"
"Yaar everything European tastes weird to you. Just drink it, its fine"
I did drink it because the cool liquid soothe my dry throat, but Ameerah liked it enough to go back for a second and then a third.
"Oh there you are", I heard a familiar voice that now was slightly slurred, and a blonde haired, blue eyed man appeared in front of me, "Gosh, you're beautiful. How about I show you a good time tonight?"
Before I could say anything, Ameerah stepped in front of me, almost tripping over herself, but still manage to growl, "Leave her alone. She's taken"
"So?", Finn winked at me over her shoulder, "What happens in Berlin, stays in Berlin"
"Uh, no thank you", I said quickly, and ran out of there as fast as my suddenly uncoordinated legs could carry me.
Thankfully Ameerah followed behind, whistling loudly, "Look at you...beautiful young lady. Men are just dropping all over you"
"Ameerah, shut up", I looked at her doubling over with laughter, when a realization dawned on me, "I think we're both drunk a little"
"Oh totally, the air had alcohol in it", she giggled.
"It was the punch, silly", I found myself laughing too, "But...but, how do we un-drunk ourselves now?"
She pulled her phone out but it immediately slipped from her hand, and the already broken screen lay shattered on the cobblestoned pathway in front of us.
"Oops", she covered her face, "Yeh tou ab asal mein mar gaya hai" (Now this is dead for real)
My head was spinning, and panic was setting in, yet I somehow managed to get out my phone and google the best way to sober up quickly.
"We need food and caffeine", I told Ameerah, "But where do we get that from?"
Then I remembered. Kamran's email!
"Ok, I know where to go. Follow me", I led my friend through the now deserted campus, only illuminated by the amber colored street lights, that too spaced at a distance so it felt like we were walking in and out of the shadows.
I clutched the pepper spray in my bag, the adrenal rush from being in a flight or fight mode had cleared my hazy brain enough to navigate my way through the darkened buildings. It was also enough to finally realize the gravity of what we had gotten ourselves into. Two drunk girls, inebriated by mistake in a strange new city was a story that did not always end well.
It was clear to me that Ameerah was far more drunk than I was as she kept veering off the brick lined pathway and kept giggling at herself.
Finally we reached the Turkish shawarma place that Kamran had given directions to in his email, and thankfully it was still open at almost 10 pm at night. There were several other people there, almost all men, except for a couple of other older women sitting in a corner on comfortable sofas, sipping on tea.
"What can I get you ladies?", called out a young man, not much older than us, with sea-green eyes and aristocratic features.
Ameerah's eyes lit up as soon as she saw him, "We'd like two Turkish men to go please"
Oh God
"She means two Turkish Shawarmas and two coffees please, and we'll eat them here", I told the man who was clearly very amused by us.
He chuckled and led us to an empty table tucked away behind a large table on which some young men were sitting, smoking hookahs and typing on their laptops.
"Ameerah, get a grip on yourself. Please", I frantically whispered to my friend as I caught her checking out the waiter again, and then her eyes wandered to the men on the table next to us.
"Yaar itnay ziyada cute hain yeh saray. In ko Pakistan ley jaate hain", she grinned. (They are all so cute. Let's take them to Pakistan)
While we waited, thankfully the salt and pepper shaker distracted her away from the the men in that restaurant, and I pulled up my email again. Ameerah's flirtatious behaviour reminded me of someone I thought was super cute too, and my foggy brain convinced me that now was a good time to let him know that.
Hi Kamran
Fyi. I think you are so cute.
Also, I think I am drunk. But don't worry we are eating men now.
Kamran
I was sitting in my computer lab, keeping an eye on my email as the lines and lines of code ran down my laptops screen. It was 1:15 pm in Seattle, which meant 10:15 pm in Berlin, and I had hoped that Farah would have emailed me about how her day had gone before she went to sleep.
Before I could get too disappointed, her email did pop up in my inbox, but what she wrote made me jump up from my seat and look around frantically for my phone.
Then there was another email.
Sorry. We are not eating men. We are sitting in a Turkish cafe with lots of men.
"Farah, what the hell have you gotten yourself into", I muttered, while dialing my sister's number.
"Komal, I need Farah's number now"
"Why?", her sleepy voice asked.
"She's in trouble. I told you, it wasn't a good idea for her to go to Berlin"
Komal, more alert than before, immediately sent her number to me but I declined to tell her exactly what was going on. I wasn't sure myself. There was no way she would have gotten drunk on purpose, but if that was the case she also wouldn't know what to do next. And if she was sitting in a room full of men late at night, I really didn't want to think of what could happen next.
I dialled her number on Whatsapp.
"Pick up Farah, pick up", I whispered as the phone kept ringing.
"Kamran?", her hesitant voice finally came through.
"Yes Farah, its me. Where are you? Are you safe, did someone hurt you?"
"No...", her voice was so delicate and so scared, that I wished I could take her in my arms and shield her from everyone around her. But I was literally on the other side of the world.
Then I heard her sob softly, "Are you going to leave me? I didn't know that punch had alcohol in it, I swear"
"No, no Farah, I would never leave you", I told her, my heart bursting with so many emotions.
"Don't tell my parents please, or Nano. They'll never trust me again", she sighed loudly.
"I won't. I promise. But I need you to listen to me carefully. Get your food packed up and order an Uber to go back to your hostel. You'll feel very sleepy soon, and I need you to be in a safe place then"
There was silence for a few moments, before she spoke again, "I can't go. Ameerah fell asleep while we were eating and the waiters moved her to a couch. I can't leave my friend all alone here"
Obviously I cared about her friend, but Farah was my primary concern and dare I say my responsibility. And as selfish as it sounded, I just needed her to get out of that cafe and back in her own bed at the hostel.
Before I could find the words to tell her that, I heard her yawn, "You know, I am really sleepy too. I think I'll just lie down next to Ameerah. I am sure these men wouldn't mind"
"No, wait Farah. You can't do that..."
She didn't respond, instead I heard footsteps and then a mix of gruff voices in languages I couldn't make out. I kept calling her name, but to no avail.
Finally, the line crackled like someone had picked up the phone from a pile of papers, "Good bye. She is asleep"
And then the line went dead.
"Farah...", I called out into my empty computer lab.
But no amount of me calling out to her would have helped. I tried calling her number again, and again. There was nothing. Then I checked my email again. There was no sign of where she was.
The girl who had a home in my heart after just one weekend together, was intoxicated and asleep in some café full of men on the other side of the world.
And that was the best the case scenario.
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I didn't expect to have a chapter that ended in a cliff hanger in this particular book. But my characters tend to write themselves, so here we are!
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