I blinked as I heard Mamma talking to Babba, I didn't want them to know I was there listening to there pep talk. I tried to hide my tears as she explained and encouraged babba, even though he should have been the one to assure that everything was going to be alright, but he couldn't stop crying. I couldn't blame, he and Mama have been childhood friends, he was always deciding which route to follow, but now it was different. Everything was different, Mamma had cancer and she wouldn't be able to live anymore.
I finally fell, and lost my facade, I thought they would come and hug me. Man was I stupid. I woke to the sound of the chirp of an evening bird of Pakistan.
First time I've had such a dream, that bursted all the memories that I had plunged into the back of my head. My narrow fingers caressed my wet face. I sobbed a little more before there was a knock on the door.
My head throbbed as I got up to find Kinza. "Sherry, tum Iftaar karow ghey? Warna tum sojau, kuinkeyh abhi to sirf Peshawer mein rosa hai."
"Nahi Kinza, tum jau mein ata hoon."
She smiled, it was like a sly smirk, but I could tell it was a smile. She walked downstairs.
"Man, it would be embarrassing if she saw me crying." I limped to the washroom, feeling very stiff. My legs denied to walk and I denied to go down, but I had made a promise. The cold water washed over my brown skin as I stared at myself in the mirror.
"Sherry," said a feminine like voice in my brain. I had to forget this, I thought. I am in Pakistan, and I act very cheery, so I must be cheery. I can't act lost.