Hayat Azhar
Once Asra was done showing me around, we ended up in a huge, luxuriant kitchen.
"You wanna eat something?" she asked while opening one of the three refrigerators ahead.
I shook my head politely. "No, thank you."
Asra pulled her eyebrows together, seeming lost in her own thoughts. "I'm craving sweets. Let's make something." She decided as she opened the second fridge and retrieved a bottle of milk.
She glanced back at me. "You know how to make any sweet dish?"
I nodded my head. "That kheer ammi brought, I made it."
Ever since I was a young girl, as per the traditions here, ammi taught me how to cook various things. Of them all, the kheer I made was the best.
The reason was silly but it was special to me. When we were kids, Zohaib liked the kheer his mother used to make. So I perfected my kheer to win him over.
Asra's eyes lit up. "Really? The kitchen's all yours, then. I'd love to have a taste of that again."
I smiled at her words and stepped forward to begin the task.
Asra spread all the necessary ingredients on the counter and I had a hunch I wouldn't need to fret over the taste, seeing as the items were quite pricey which guaranteed a delicious taste.
"What do we have here?" A young man wearing off-white shalwar kameez and a gentle smile entered the kitchen. His hair was cut short and he had a set of warm brown eyes. "Who's cooking?"
Asra's face flushed a little and she turned to me. "We're making kheer. I mean, she's making kheer. Nani hired Hayat today."
Judging from her fidgety behavior, I figured this guy was her fiancé.
"Are you serious?! The poor girl hasn't been here for a day and you've already put her to work?" The guy covered his mouth in faux disappointment. Before Asra had the chance to retort, someone else did.
"That's what servants are for, she's just doing what she's supposed to."
My hand stopped at a hostile voice and I glanced up.
The guy and Asra turned back to look at a girl who was standing at the back of the kitchen.
She had shoulder-length ombre hair which were set in half braids, complimenting her peach blouse and black jeans. Her makeup was masterfully done and she was quite beautiful, although the scowl on her face was not attractive.
"I don't get why you praise people for what they're paid for. It's her duty, stop treating her like a guest. She's a maid," she resumed while grabbing an apple from the pile of fruits on the counter.
Asra glanced over me and despite trying to hide it, I was sure my eyes reflected the shame and embarrassment I felt at the girl's remark.
"Seriously, Laiba?" The guy shot her a warning look.
Laiba rolled her eyes. "What? I'm simply stating facts, Sohel. Stop treating servants as if they're doing you favors. We pay them. It's their job to work for us."
She threw me a last disgusted look and left the kitchen before anyone had the chance to defend me—which would've been out of pity.
Sohel gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry about my sister. She doesn't put much thought into what comes out of her mouth sometimes."
"It's okay." I smiled tightly. She wasn't wrong though. I was basically a servant here. But then why did her words sting?
Once the kheer was done, Sohel and Asra both seemed to enjoy how it had turned out. Sohel left after having two bowls of kheer while Asra stayed behind, talking to me.
I didn't realize how much time had passed until dadi came into the kitchen.
"Asra, did you heat up the milk for kitten?"
Asra gaped at her. "So sorry Nani. I'll do it right away," she whined and quickly went up to take the milk out of the fridge.
"Kam bakht! I knew you would forget. My poor kitten must be starving but nobody takes care of him. He already looks very frail and weak," dadi lamented with a sad expression which was soon replaced by anger.
"Leave it. You're useless," she berated Asra who had poured milk into a pan and then snapped her eyes to me. "Hayat, you heat up the milk."
"Yes, dadi." I instantly obliged and turned to the stove. She was upset. I guess she loved her kitten more than her granddaughter.
"Heat it up nicely and give it to my kitten. After that, go home. It's getting dark."
I nodded my head once more and she left the kitchen. Judging from the amount of milk Asra had poured, it seemed they had a half-starved cat. It went to prove how fond dadi was of cats.
An unexpected surge of sadness coursed through my blood. In our house, we rarely had enough milk for humans and these people over here were heating milk for an animal. The difference between us was astounding.
I turned up the flame and then took a pause.
Wait, what exactly am I supposed to do?
I glanced back at Asra who was typing on her phone and then moved my eyes back to the milk.
"Excuse me, Asra? What do I do now?"
"Heat it up a little and pour it in anything from there then take it to the garden." She absentmindedly pointed a finger to the cupboard containing cups and bowls.
Wait, they share dishes with their cat?
Was that hygienic? Maybe it was. I didn't know.
Rich people can be a little... unusual.
I did as I was told and turned the stove off when a slight steam started to come out of the milk. Scanning the dishes, I decided to take a red bowl and poured the warm liquid inside.
Asra had left the kitchen and I was alone. I picked up the bowl and walked out.
A double-sliding door leading to the backyard caught my eyes in the corner. That must be where the kitten was.
I walked out in the garden and the view in front of me had my eyes opening in astonishment.
Beautiful lights glimmered, casting a glow on the green grass spreading in all directions. It was huge with a sitting area decorated by lamps.
Advancing forward, I observed my surroundings in a trance when I remembered the cat.
My eyes drifted everywhere but no cat was in sight. Hmph. Where was I supposed to search for that animal now? I didn't have a slight clue of its description either.
So, I went for the oldest trick in the book.
"Pspsps...?" I pspsed for the cat, taking slow steps forward.
When my gaze swept over the sitting area again, my psps was cut short and my body turned ice-cold.
If a building had crashed down in front of me, I wouldn't have been as shocked as I was now, looking at the person before me.
Breathing felt impossible as I gaped down on a pair of swollen eyes; his sage irises already staring at me in utmost shock.
Sameer—Sage—sat in the brown garden chair in front of me, his mouth slightly agape, as if he was trying to comprehend the scene ahead of him.
The clock seemed to have slowed down as we both gaped at each other, both in shock.
Then, an expression of wrath flashed across his face and he sprung to his feet, taking long steps in my direction.
My body was glued to the ground, my blood cold. He stepped into my personal bubble and stopped right in front of me.
"You?!" His voice was loud and laced with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing in my house?"
His house?
I wasn't aware how I managed to keep my hold on the bowl of milk and didn't drop it as I continued to gape, wordlessly, at the person seething in fury.
"Thanks for bringing the package, Misom!" A chirpy voice echoed and Sameer's wrathful eyes snapped behind me.
"That's not my name," he gritted out.
Asra held up her hands. "Right, sorry sorry. Forgot we weren't kids anymore so I can't give you any nicknames—" she stopped all of a sudden when her gaze fell on me.
"...you brought the milk in a bowl?"
I stared at her confused face, feeling the color leaving my own and forced a reply out of my constricting throat. "The kitten...?"
Her face contorted in bafflement, before her expression changed and she started to cackle. "Oh Gosh!" She clutched her stomach. "You thought Sameer was a real cat? Wha-are you serious? She thought you were a cat!" She jabbed a finger at Sameer, adding fuel to the already fierce fire.
Her smile faded when she noticed something. "Geez. What's wrong with your eyes? They look terrible."
I winced in guilt as Sameer's face blanked. He curled his palms into fists, looking as if he was restraining himself from punching the living lights out of someone. "I got some spicy sauce into them."
"How do you get some spicy sauce into your eyes?" She repeated his words in incredulity. "You've infected them. Go see a doctor."
Her words were really making things worse.
Asra then turned to me, a grin reappearing on her lips. She gave Sameer a sideways glance and snickered at my mix-up.
"I'll take care of the milk. Go home and just come back tomorrow. I hope you'll enjoy working here." She grabbed the bowl from my frozen hands and disappeared back inside the house, her laughter ringing outside.
I stood still in my spot, my arms fixed in the same position they were when I held the bowl. I couldn't muster up enough strength to even lower them.
"Oh, I get it now." Sameer's voice forced my gaze to him. A taunting glint made its way to his swollen eyes.
"You're the new maid," he said it like I was something worthless and looked me up and down. "That's interesting."
His mocking tone pierced my heart and I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat. "I'm sorry about this morning."
I apologized to him again but it only worsened his mood. He turned to glare at me, his sage eyes bloodshot.
"You think your measly apology can fix this? You have disrespected me." He brought his face closer to mine, speaking harshly. "And I do not take disrespect lightly. So you better prepare yourself to pay the price for messing with me. You'll regret it, I guarantee you that."
My heart pounded violently as he uttered each word. Then, he abruptly turned around, heading to the chairs and plopped down like a superior king would.
"For now, go and get me a glass of water. Add a half ice cube to it. And be here under two minutes," he gave out an order, his condescending eyes fixed on my frozen figure that was in shock.
Noticing my lack of movement, he snapped his fingers, growing annoyed. "Hey! You want me to throw a stick for you now? Move!" He yelled, jerking his hand as if he were addressing a dog and I felt a gash piercing my heart.
My feet stumbled back two steps and I dug my nails in my palms, my heartbeats accelerating.
I couldn't stay here any longer. I needed to get out. I needed to leave.
And so I did.
I spun around and left the backyard and the haveli, disrespecting him for the second time by refusing his order.
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GLOSSARY
Kambakht - the word actually means 'wretched' but it is used as a slang/swearword without much care for the meaning and means someone who is bad as he/she does wrong.