Hey dear sisters and brothers, you know what’s coming up next: An Apology for Such A Late Upload. But I’m sorry, I’d written the chapter two days ago, no really but there were certain amendments to be made for which I had to keep it hanging until now. It’s a pretty long chapter, and I’ve tried to make it as good as possible. Hoping to have lots of lies and comments from you : )
Dedicated to @meromada for being an awesome sister and friend! You are just so good sis! Best Of Luck for your exams!!!!
Enjoy! Read! Vote! Comment!
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Chapter Two
Farah Umair
Approximately seven billion human beings live on this huge mass of Earth. And more than a zillion billion have inhabited it ever since it was created. People belonging to different areas, different times, different life styles. Every person that’s born is born with a special quality, a character, a talent that distinguishes him from other people, kind of makes him unique. Of course, he might not be the only person bearing that quality; there might be thousands of other human beings having that trait in them. But still, with proper use of this quality of his or her, he or she could become different from people who own that same feature.
And this feature could be anything. Anything in particular. I’ll call it ‘the foundation’ or ‘the centre of that person’ because although the person may have a number of other features, distinctiveness and qualities in him, but this one quality would be the most dominating of all. This one quality in him would be the reason for his existence on Earth. This one quality will be what his life would be revolving around. This one quality will help him survive on Earth. This one quality will be his or her centre.
Many people are fluky enough to have realized this quality of theirs. And making use of it in the proper way, they prosper in life. A few comprehend it at an early age, while for some, it takes time. Then again many people have no idea what their ‘centre’ is, either because they tried their best to search it out but failed, or maybe they never troubled to look for it, considering it a trifling obsession or some book-ly entity found only in the Department of Fantasy or Imagination.
Now that I’ve filled you in on this viewpoint of mine, it is quite natural that you might want to know what my centre is. But I have to say, I’m sorry, I haven’t figured it out yet. Okay, I can imagine the thwarted looks on your faces, but I can’t help it. I am one of those people who are just ‘living’ their life without knowing what they are here for. But no, if you think I’ve given up the idea for finding out my centre like how many weak people do, then you’re wrong. I, like a number of people on this blue planet, am struggling hard every second of my existence just to ‘figure out’ what’s so inimitable in me, what has Allah blessed me with that I can use for a really good cause.
And I would also like to point out that I used the word ‘weak’ for the people who give up their search of this unique ‘centre’, or who haven’t tried to even begin their search. And of course, you’d want an explanation for this allusion as well. Yes. They’re weak. Not weak of head or heart, they’re weak of determination. In biological terms, they’re deficient in determination. Their psyche is, quite unfortunately, stuck at the point that they’re either quite ordinary, or quite plain to hunt for their hidden talent. But for all these people who are ‘weak’, I will repeat what Alan Moore said: ‘Everybody is special. Everybody. Everybody is a hero, a lover, a fool, a villain. Everybody. Everybody has their story to tell.’
“Farah!” my sister’s voice cuts through my philosophy-rich thoughts as she parks the car in the parking lot. “For your kind information, we’ve reached our destination.”
I look up at the windshield. The board of ‘Bright Future Academy’ smiles down upon me. “You don’t have to holler like that to tell me this,” I reply curtly but with a sense of humor in my tone as I shut my biology book that had been sitting in my lap during the whole drive.
“If you keep day-dreaming like that, then I will have to shout at the top of my lungs in order to bring you back to the world of reality, the world in which you, I and a billion other people live,” she says waving her hand in the air.
“Seven billion approximately,” I correct her, “and by the way, I wasn’t day-dreaming.”
“You weren’t studying biology, I can tell that!” Mariam continues with her claim.
“And how can you tell that? You don’t read people’s minds, do you?”
“No, but I do read people’s faces. When you’re studying biology, you have a discreet and grave look on your face. And when you’re cooking up some philosophy in that philosophical head of yours, you have a look that tells that you’re lost in a world far from this world. And that’s the look that you had all through the ride.”
So much for having an elder sister whose centre is to ‘read people’s faces’.
“Okay okay, I give up,’ I sigh, roll my eyes, then getting hold of my school bag, I open the door. Mariam starts laughing. “What now?” I ask, much irritated. Mariam simply shook her head. “Go on,” she said, “or you’ll be late for school.”
I roll my eyes again. “The next time Daddy has to leave early for office, I’ll make sure he arranges me a ride to school by some sensible person,” I say, then holding my biology book in my left hand and slinging my bag pack on my right shoulder I get out of the car. I feel a muscle in my cheek itch. No Farah, you’re not going to smile. Please no! You’re going to give the impression that you’re pretty serious. But before I can help it, I’m smiling just like Mariam. “AssalamuAlaykum,” I greet her then shut the door.
“Wa-Alikummussalam,” she rolls down the window and replies. “And yes, break a leg in this test of yours! The one that you were revising in the car,” she said and once more cracked up.
“Hmmph! You wait till I reach home,” I retort back but she’d already reversed the car. Mariam will never stop teasing me. Well, who would stop teasing the youngest kid in the house? I bet all elder siblings torment their younger siblings in that same way! But all the same, I enjoy these arguments I have with her. It’s a way of expressing one’s love and affection. After all, if she won’t argue with me, who else she’d argue with? That grumpy woman at the grocery store? The mere thought of this makes me smile. And with this gigantic smile plastered on my face, I start walking towards the school gate.
*******
My name is Farah Umair. I’m a Muslim, and an American. I was born in Washington DC, and that’s exactly where I’m living right now. My parents converted to Islam when they were quite young, met each other in some Islamic Ijtima, decided that they liked each other and got married. They have four children, one son and three daughters. I, being fourteen years and seven months, am their youngest daughter. My eldest sibling Ayesha is married and lives with her husband in New York. She’s twenty three. Then comes my brother, Ali, twenty one, who lives in New York as well with Ayesha where he is studying plus doing some past-time job. After that, it’s Mariam, she’s nineteen and currently studying for CPA exams. And me, I’m in tenth standard and study in Bright Future Academy.
You might want to know how I look like. Okay, don’t get too excited. I’m not a beauty queen. I have fair skin, and pitch black eyes that go perfectly with my pitch black hair. My hair is always covered in my scarf when I am somewhere other than my house, so not many people know how it looks like. I have a slender, long, American-type, of nose. And yes, I wear glasses. Thick glasses that hide my dark, black eyes. I’m dressed in a floral print skirt and a bit long yellow full-sleeved T-shirt. A white scarf is wrapped around my head and covers my front, and my Head Girl badge is placed right above my heart. So you can imagine how nerdy I look like!
I didn’t always study in Bright Future Academy. My parents decided to move me over here in fifth-standard. Reason? Because of the various facilities it offered for the Muslim students. For instance, we didn’t have any uniform code, due to which we can wear any sort of dress we feel comfortable in, not the tight button-up, short-sleeved shirts and knee-length skirts. Secondly, the school offered Islamic and Quran classes while the non-Muslim students had their Bible classes. So I ended up here finally, and this is my sixth year in this place. And, I like my school.
Bright Future Academy is a bit different from other schools you’ll find over here. Most of the schools have classes where the students spend their entire (or most of) the day. And these classes are divided into sections A, B, C… or so on. But in Bright Future Academy, which has students from grade five up till high school, only classes from five to eight are present. These are situated at the ground floor. The higher grades have been assigned common rooms which are called as Ninth’s Common Room, Tenth’s Common Room, Eleventh’s Common Room and Twelfth’s Common Room. These four common rooms are situated at the fist floor, and a number of other classes at the second floor of the school where these high-school-ers take their subjects. When they aren’t having any class, or during the breaks, they spend their time in the common room, gossiping, busy on their phones, or simply idling. And all the students of a particular grade, no matter how much they are, have a single common room. This is why common rooms are much much bigger than the ordinary classes. And another facility that is provided only for us senior students in their common rooms is the use of lockers which are set against the walls of the common rooms.
I’m almost at the staircase when I hear someone calling my name. I recognize it instantly, and groan mentally. Steffi Flores, the Girl Chief Prefect. One disadvantage of being the Head Girl of the school: You’re on duty all time, no matter what it is. Sighing, I turn around and am most surprised to see a very rumpled Steffi make her way through the corridor. Steffi is a twelfth grader, and generally very neat and tidy girl. But today, her hair is pulled in a rough bun, and she is wearing a white button-up shirt, very clearly un-ironed, over floppy brown trousers. Her blue eyes, giving a worried impression, were concealed behind thick glasses. I could tell she hadn’t slept the whole night. She hurried over to where I was standing.
“Hello Steffi! How are you?’ I asked her smilingly when she was close enough.
“Oh, I’m not fine. It’s a busy day Farah! I’m having a MAJOR test today, and I need to revise it once. So sorry for taking you up early in the morning, but there are some announcements to be made. And I would be really grateful if you make them for me, please,” she pleaded.
I stopped to think for a moment. The biology book was still in my hand, and I was having a major test too. But the pleading look in her eyes softened that cone shaped organ that beats in my chest, known as the heart. “Umm, okay,” I said trying not to sound so unwilling.
“Thank you so much! Look, there’s a meeting in the library, first break. All the prefects and monitors are to be present there. Oh and yes, of course, both the Head’s and Chief’s should be there as well. Don’t worry about the twelfth graders. I’ll inform them. All you have to do is give this news in other classes, okay?” She says it all in a single breath while I struggle to take in the news.
“Okay yes, I will,’ I promise her. A feeling of relief passes on her face as she pulls back a strand of her blonde hair that had fallen on her forehead. Not knowing what else to say, I smile at her.
“Thank you so much, now I can go and revise my test,” she said and rushed towards the playground.
“Best of luck!” I called out to her, but I doubt she heard me in that nervousness.
Great, now I have a task to do before revising my test. So, let’s make some calculations. There are four grades from fifth to eighth, each having two or three sections. Apart from this there are four common rooms as well. I glance at my watch. It made me smile, no, not the time. The watch made me smile. Because it is a gift to me from Aafreen. And whenever I looked at this pretty black watch with small, sparkling, diamonds bordering its circumference, it reminds me of her.
Aafreen Sheikh is my best friend. We met in fifth standard when I moved in this school. Ever since then, we’ve been very close to each other. We spent most of the time together. She was a top-ranking student, and always beat me with a few marks. We helped each other in everything, and were always there for each other in all circumstances. But, very sadly, Aafreen moved from this school this year. Her parents wished her to learn the Quran by-heart. And although there are Islamic classes over here, but Bright Future Academy does not provide any courses for hifz. Hence, she has now moved to another school, which, along with imparting the usual education, also gives courses for hifz. Even though she has moved now, we still remain in touch, talk to each other a lot, share our problems etcetera etcetera. In fact, I was just planning yesterday to meet her this Sunday, as it’s been two weeks since we met.
My smile faded when I saw the time. Ten minutes to eight. And the school begins at eight exactly. First period is Mathematics. And although mathematics is not my favorite subject and it will be pleasure to skip the class, but I still wouldn’t skip it. We’re doing quadratic theorem today, and my brain is not really good at getting those boring things (sorry, but I mean no offence). This means I’ll have to attend the class at any cost. Second period biology. Test. Third period is again mathematics. I mentally face palm myself. Who made my time-table this year?
Seeing no other way out, I start climbing the stairs. First I’ll do the common-rooms. Then the lower grades. And a single though crossed my mind at that particular moment: These are the times when I miss Saaim the most.
*********
Although I try my bestest best not to think about him, but I simply can’t help it. He was such a good friend, a brother to me. Saaim’s parents and my parents know each other before either of us was born. So you can just figure out how friendly and close our families are. We were brought up together, though in different schools. He used to be just like Ali to me. And as he was six whole months elder than me, I would call him ‘bro’ and he would call me ‘ukhti’. When I moved in this school, his parents moved him here as well. I still remember my first day in Bright Future Academy.
It was the second week of January, and very cold and chilly. I stood in the playground with Saaim at my side. “It’s cold!” I told him. “That’s not news to me,” he said smiling his goofy smile. He was a Syrian, and had golden hair, with golden eyes and a fair pinkish complexion. “Where’s our class?” I asked ignoring his joke and pulling my blazer closer to myself to keep the chilly winds out. It didn’t help much though.
“Hmm, as far as I know, it’s in that huge building over there,” he said and pointed towards the school building. I looked at him angrily.
He always joked around. That’s why I also called him a joker sometimes. He liked joking around, turning boring conversations into fun. I guess that’s his centre.
Just then a small brown girl with long black hair in two plaits and dressed in a South-Asian kurta over blue jeans darted over to us. “Hello,” she said politely. “Hi!” Both of us replied solemnly. “My name is Aafreen Sheikh. I’m in fifth standard. Could you please help me to my class?” She asks with a shy smile. I instantly recognized that she was a South-Asian, maybe an Indian or a Pakistani.
“Okay, that’s really great because we’re in the same standard as you are,” Saaim informed her, and I knew a joke was coming up now. And of course, it did. “But the funny thing is that we, like you, are new here, and we have no idea where our class is!” he exclaimed. Aafreen’s lips parted in a smile.
“Well then, let’s search for our class ourselves,” she proposed. I instantly decided I liked her. The three of us started walking towards the building.
Our teacher had the chairs arranged in groups of three that day. So the three of us sat down together, and that was how our friendship began.
We were really good friends, the three of us. We would study together, play together, enjoy together, fight together, and do all the things best friends would do together. And Saaim treated both of us like his sisters (though he doesn’t have any sister. They’re just two brothers). Saaim would take care of us like a brother does, and would also carry out different tasks when we were busy or not-in-mood to do them, just like a brother would. And although we were close, I knew he was a non-mahram to me, and that I shouldn’t and couldn’t be as frank with him as I am with Ali. And keeping that point in view, I kept a safe distance from him in spite of the fact that Saaim never gave me a chance to complain. I guess his parents had explained it to him too that we’re not to stay together much. Hence, he would be with us, but I don’t remember he even touched either me or Aafreen after we turned eleven. So, you can just figure out what sort of a brotherly-friendship we had. He knew our problems, and guided us through them like any other responsible brother would.
Until last year, in ninth standard. Something went wrong. I don’t know what. Saaim stopped being frank with us. He stopped hanging around with us. He stopped doing small things for us. But he didn’t change. He was the same Saaim. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to be the same Saaim, the brotherly Saaim, but he just started keeping his distance from us, more particularly me. And one day I got angry at this conduct of his’. My family had gone over to their house for dinner that day. He was in his bedroom when I yelled at him, furious at his awkwardness. Then he said something that made me retreat. Made me freeze. Made me speechless. Made me feel betrayed. Broken. No, I told him. No Saaim, please. You can’t say that, Saaim, I told him. But he’d said it. He’d said something I never imagined even in my dreams that he would. I walked away from there in a mixture of emotions. We became strangers to each other. Our families kept meeting, we kept visiting each other’s house, I kept greeting him on various occasions, he kept greeting me, but we never were the same.
And right now, if Saaim was like before with me, like my brother, he would have done this task for me. And if Aafreen was here, she’d have done it for me. But neither of them is here. I’m completely on my own.
I miss my sister Aafreen, because she’s not present here. And I miss my brother Saaim, because although he is present in this school, he’s still not there with me.
********
The last class to go, I whisper to myself. Half happy, half worried. Happy because I’ll be done with this task, and then can revise for my test. Worried because I know there are just two minutes for the bell to go, and I won’t be able to revise my test.
“Excuse me?” I heard someone call me from behind. I turned around, to find a boy standing behind me, looking at me keenly. I’ve never seen him before, I think. He’s a new comer. Looked like he’s thirteen, or maybe twelve, dressed in a green T-shirt and white trousers.
“Yes?” I ask politely looking into his eyes. Pitch black eyes meet hazel brown. “Umm, I was just wondering could you please tell me where my class is. I’m new here, it’s my first day,” he asks shyly.
“Yes of course, why not?” I smiled at him warmly. “Welcome to Bright Future Academy. I am Farah Umair, the Head Girl,” I introduced myself to him.
“Oh, thank you. My name is Haris. Muhammad Haris Ali, I’m in 8 B,” he informed me.
“AssalamuAlaikum,” I greet him in the Islamic way when I come to know that he is a Muslim. Though I wonder why he did not greet me, even though he could see that I am a Muslim. Maybe he was a bit shy. “Wa-alikummusslam,” he replies earnestly.
“8 B is over there,” I point towards my right. “Walk over to the split, and turn right. Third class to the right is your class,” I tell him. He nods slightly. “Nice to meet you,” Haris says, then walks off. I smile at him. This guy was pretty. His short brown hair made me assume he was an Arab.
Okay now Farah, get back to your work.
*********
Bertrand Russell said: Mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what are we talking about, nor whether what we are saying is true or not. And I stand be Russell right now. Because I’m just staring at my Mathematics register, and staring, and staring. And yes, also trying in vain to figure out what to do next. Because I have no idea what I’m doing, nor whether what I’m doing is true or not.
I don’t really hate Mathematics. It can be great fun, as long as you can get those theorems and equations in that brain of yours, and as long as you get the right answer. But once these two conditions aren’t being fulfilled, I’m warning you, you’re in for a real head-ache. The one that doesn’t go away even with Panadol.
And Mathematics was not really tough for me before. You see, having two Mathematical geniuses as your best-friends, you never could have any problem with that so-much-disliked subject. Aafreen is one of those people who could look at the question and know the answer without even having the need to solve it. And Saaim, I used to tease him by saying that you don’t even have to look at the question. But right now, neither of them is here with me. So, yeah, I’m alone in this battle I guess.
I glanced up to see Saaim, sitting in a seat to the front of my right. His hands were moving non-stop on his register, and although I couldn’t see his face, I could imagine his eye-brows furrowed, all focus on the question. Then I looked away. I don’t know why. A sigh escaped from my lips. Aafreen, I miss you. And it suddenly struck me that this is just the first period, I’m having another Math’s class today. I felt like someone had pushed me down a cliff.
I really wish I had bunked this class and gone for the announcements right now. But, that wouldn’t help much, only put me in a greater difficulty. We have tough competition in our class. There are many students who’re way too intelligent and striving hard to get hold of the top-most positions. Me, Ahmik (the Head Boy), Iris, Saaim, and Emanuel are just to name a few (these are also the people you’ll find me hanging out with mostly, and yes, Rabiya and Shreya are not to be forgotten). And all of us, I have to admit, are pretty good in almost all the subjects. Which offers a greater extent of competition, with constant thoughts of I’m going to beat you, Ahmik or Ugh! Just a few more marks and I’d have been in place of Iris etcetera. But let me tell you, these are competitive thoughts, not evil ones.
When Aafreen was here, no one dreamed of fighting for the first position. But when she left, a great struggle arose among the students. Every one wanted to get the first position, even me. You could see each one of us struggling our heads off, in the library, in the playground, either we’ll be studying in seclusion, or discussing something related to studies. And as Mathematics was my weakness, I had to do double the hard work for this subject than I did for others. But Ahmik beat me just by a couple of marks. This kind of made me happy as well as sad. Happy because Ahmik is one of my friends whom I can be close with. And his happiness made me happy. And sad because I’d struggled really hard, but couldn’t get the first position. But this year, I am determined to get that single position. And I’m going to struggle really hard for it. Which also means spending more time studying Mathematics.
But by the progress I’m showing right now, I don’t see I have many chances for this dream to come true. If Ahmik was in this class, he could’ve helped me. But he’s having Geography right now. Okay, I haven’t explained this thing to you yet. We’re forty-three students in tenth. And of course, all of them have to study compulsory subjects like Mathematics, English etcetera. But, it is not really possible for forty-three students to study together in one class. Hence, when half of the students are studying Mathematics, the other half will be having some other subject and vice versa. And Ahmik is in the other half of this. The only subjects he takes with me are English, Chemistry and Physics. Saaim on the other hand, has all the subjects with me. Great, huh?
“Yes Farah, do you have any problem?” Mr. Bradford asked me all of a sudden. “Huh? Umm, no. I’m doing well,” I told him and he nodded at me. I’m indeed doing very well, Sir! I’m stuck at the second question, and no matter how hard I try, I just cannot get the answer that’s written on the Answers page. I heard a slight giggle from behind. I turned around and rolled my eyes at Iris. She smiled back. Which question? She mouthed the words. I held out two fingers indicating that I am on the second question. Just then the bell went off, the bell of freedom. Number of students gasped with delight. I opened my mouth to sigh happily, but it got stuck in my throat when I realized which class it is.
Biology.
Test.
********
I quickly took my seat, pulled out my text book, flipped to page number 189 and started reading it before our biology teacher stepped in the class. The seat to my right was empty. I frowned. Where is Rabiya? I craned my neck to look for her among the students that were piling in one by one. No sign of her.
“Hey Iris, is Rabiya present?” I asked Iris who was seated behind me. She shrugged her shoulders in response. “Didn’t see her today,” she informed me. “Must be absent.”
I returned my concentration to the biology book when Jessica stormed inside. Jessica is the chic of our class. She had a Hannah Montana jotter in one hand while with the other, she stroke back her blonde hair, which, I remember, were burgundy color just yesterday. This girl changes like a chameleon. A strong fragrance of perfume floated in the class with her arrival. I guess she bathes with perfume. Then she straightened out her so-expensive-and-inappropriate-for-school magenta colored dress that hardly covered her thighs. Finally at ease about her appearance, “Hi Guys!” she chirped, flashing us a BIG smile, as she took her seat near the door. “Hi Jess!” was the reply, mostly from boys. Jess is a girl that if she smiles at some boy, he’ll probably faint with happiness. Every non-sensible boy in the school has made an attempt to flirt with her. But Jess has high merits. So not every one is successful in flirting with her.
“Good morning class!” Ms. Carly’s voice boomed in as she hurried into the class. “Ready for the test?” she asked, without even glancing at us. Ms. Carly is one of those people who, when they think they have to do a task, go for doing it without wasting a single minute. I’ve never seen her idling here or there. She’ll come in the class, and without stopping to catch her breath, will start teaching or doing whatever she wants to do.
“Will you not take our test if we are not ready?” Saaim asked her jokingly.
“Good try, Saaim, now shut your books, and take out your test papers.” She smiled at his joke and started writing on the white-board.
Her instruction was accompanied with ohh’s and damns, then the sound of shutting the books crammed the air. I pulled out my test paper and wrote my name at the top of it. Just then a knock at the door stopped us. Ms. Carly paused writing and turned to face the door. All pairs of eyes were directed at the person who knocked. Some one standing at the door of the class. Some one I’d not seen before. A boy. About the same age as me.
“A new comer,” I heard Iris whisper form behind.
“May I come in, Ma’am?” the boy asked courteously.
“Yes you may. Are you the new boy I was told about?” Ms. Carly asked him as he walked inside and flipped opened her attendance register to check out his name.
“Yes. My name is Muhammad Hassan Ali,” he informed her as she nodded her head. “Yes. Welcome to the class Muhammad,” – she glanced down at the register to see his full name -- ,“Hassan Ali,” Ms. Carly flashed a warm smile towards him. “Please take your seat,” she said and pointed over to the chair to my right.
Uh-Oh. Rabiya’s seat.
“Thank you. Umm, you can call me Hassan for short,” he told her and made his way towards the chair. He flashed me a brief smile before he sat down.
“I’m sorry but we’re having a test today,” Ms. Carly told him pointing towards the white board.” I’m sure you’re not prepared for it, so you can just leave it. Umm, in the mean while Saaim will give you his notes and you can have a look as to how much we’ve done up till now,” she told him and Saaim obediently handed him his jotter.
“Thank you,” the boy, who by now had a name, told Saaim and got busy in reading his notes. I returned to my test.
**********
The test was pretty easy. I was the first one to finish it and handed over my paper to Ms. Carly. Then I came back and sat down on my seat. There were still a few minutes for the bell to go. Iris was still jotting down furiously. I decided to have a look at Hassan.
The first thing that you try to find out about a new comer: How is he in studies? Can he beat me? Or can I beat him? Is he capable of getting good grades? What are his weak subjects? Which subject is his strongest? So, pushing my glasses up, which had slipped down and reached the tip of my nose, I tilted my head towards him and took a detailed look.
He was dressed in a full-sleeved orange and blue checked button-up shirt over blue jeans. He had a slightly tanned complexion. Maybe he was an Arab. Okay, yes, he’s the brother of that boy I met in the morning. What was his name now, hmm, Haris. Yes, his name was Haris. So he is his brother. Yes, he looked a lot like him. Hazel brown eyes engrossed in Saaim’s tilted not-so-beautiful handwriting (I’m sorry Saaim, but your handwriting really sucks!). Stunning hazel brown eyes. He had delicate fingers, holding the book skillfully. And striking features.
He reminded me of someone. Someone I’d seen before. But who? I strained my eyes thoughtfully. Think you brain, think. And it suddenly struck me.
Andrew Garfield. What? Andrew Garfield? Yes, that awesome, breath-taking, gorgeous, handsome and remarkable guy with just inexplicably beautiful eyes and a mop of hair that stands in an untidy, but very cute manner on his head, starring in The Amazing Spider-man. I looked at Hassan closely. Yes! He did look like Andrew Garfield. In fact, he looked like someone had cut Andrew Garfield out of a poster of The Amazing Spider-man. The same nose, the same pretty eyes, the same smile, the same hair that was neither-too-spiky-nor-too-flat, just like how I like it. I wondered if he was a relative of Andrew Garfield. No stupid Farah, how’s that possible?
I stared hard at him. There was something in him that made him look even more like Andrew Garfield. Apart from his physical features, something else was there. So I stared at him again. Stared hard at him. I wanted to find out that one thing that was there in him that made him look so striking, so attractive, so freaking cute.
You know when you stare at someone, there comes a time when that person suddenly looks at you, and you simply turn your face away suddenly, trying to look at something else, anything else, giving the impression that you never looked at him. That’s what happened here exactly. I was staring at him, and he looked up so suddenly that I became nervous and turned my head towards my desk, my hands pulled towards my scarf unconsciously and I start tightening it even though it was tightened to the extent that I could only breathe.
But before I’d turned my head away from him, and after he’d looked at me, there was a brief moment when our eye actually met, a very brief moment. And in that brief moment, I realized what made him look so much like Andrew Garfield. And that kind of made me smile, because not many people with that particular thing can be found in today’s world.
So, there are some special people who think a lot, and when they do, they have the ‘grave and sober and lost-in-another-world-that’s-far-far-away’ look on their faces. Like some great philosophers etcetera. This look comes when they get lost in that un-explained world, and goes when they come back to this world. But, if any one of you just Google out some pictures of Albert Einstein, you’ll see that that great scientist, even when he was sitting down for a photo-shoot, had a look on his face that said: This Guy is Using That Freaking Brain in His Head for Some Really Important Work. And ALL his pictures convey that message. At first, it didn’t really puzzle me, but later it came to my mind, what would Einstein be thinking about while having a photo shoot?
And I also found certain other famous people (Andrew Garfield is one of them), who have that far and distant look on their face all the time. So I finally concluded that these people are born with this special and rare and deep and meaningful look on their visage. It’s innate and like God-Gifted to them. And right now, this was the look I’d seen on Muhammad Hassan Ali’s face.
*******
After having a really exhausting second Mathematics class, I’m standing in the library, next to Ahmik, staring at our principal. And wondering why on earth I decided to be the Head Girl this year. Because the news he gave me wasn’t a pleasing one.
“As you all know that our school values the hidden talents of our bright students, and by enhancing those talents, we try to give them a Bright Future, so this year, like all other years, we’ll be having a Talent Show as well. But, due to certain problems, we’re changing the date to the fifteenth of June rather than fifteenth of October.”
He stopped to look at our response. We smiled at him. Forced smiles. Yeah, I have a degree in The Department of Forced Smiles as well!
“So, you all know what you have to do. You can collect the forms from your class in-charges, and distribute them in your class. And all the monitors and prefects are requested to help the Heads and Chiefs for the preparations of the day. I need a teamwork filled with cooperation and collaboration. Do you all get me?”
This brought forth a ‘Yes Sir’. I tried to hide my disappointment. Not that I didn’t want Talent Show to take place, I just didn’t want it to take place now! I mean, October was fine for it, right? I mean, we’re having our exams from twenty-second of June, and it is twenty-eight of May today. Less than a month to prepare. And just fifteen days for the Talent Show’s preparations.
I can imagine a hectic month coming ahead!
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Please vote and comment dear friends. And thanks to ALL of you who are reading this book for giving it a chance ^_^ Thanks to all my friends for you utter support!
As I’m on my after-exams-break, and that’s pretty long, so you guys can expect quick updates now! But, not really quick, Just Quick : ) (That's a side-effect of reading TFIOS *_* )
Take care till then!
Silver ^_^