❝Bahut Se Dard Hain Jo Seh Raha Hoon Mere Khuda,
Bahut Si Baatein Hai Jo Tujhse Akele Mein Karunga❞
"Acha penguin ka kya hua?" Inaaya plucked the cucumber from her eyes, that the spa lady had placed two seconds ago, and popped it in her mouth. Laila almost got nauseated at the sight, but Inaaya kept eating the cucumber as the lady repeated the act.
"Na yaad dila."Laila closed her eyes to get a few seconds of peace, but in vain. Like the whole weekend, her heart had been beating in fear, fear of getting replaced by Natasha. She huffed opening her eyes again, she started counting the dim lights on the ceiling. "Do din se neend nahi aayi replacement ya termination letter ke intezar mein."
"He hasn't kicked you out?" She opened one eye, arching her eyebrow at Laila. "I salute his patience. Jitna tera attitude hai, mein tujhe free ka bhi na rakhoon."
"Naagin. Bus to dil jalati rahe. Tumhare jaise dost to Allah kisi dushman ko bhi na de." Laila threw a dirty look Inaaya's way who kept eating the cucumbers nonchalantly.
"Aise halka na le. Itna attitude hai na ke maine apne birth parents ko lift ni karaya aur apne liye naaye maa baap pick kar liye." Leave it to Inaaya to make a joke about her own adoption. "Koi aam insaan na samajhna, Teri behen ke peeche log marte hai. Aur baqi deewane hai mere is khoobsurat chehre ke."
"Is liye teri duty psych ward mein lagi hui hai. Aur Hopital ka morgue bhi teri he waja se hi bhara hua hai. Aise doctor se Allah bachaye. "
"Kutti!" Inaaya threw a slice of cucumber on Laila's face. "yahi yeh jo tera attitude hai. Tune sorry to bola nahi hoga." Laila stayed mum, slightly embarrassed the spa lady was enjoying their drama full on. "Haan yahi to. Nahi bola na. Tu to sorry waise bhi nahi bolti."
"Excuse me. I do."
"You say sorry when it's shallow, just out of courtesy and manners. You run faster than a cheetah when emotions are on the plate. You have a problem saying sorry because you think saying sorry will make you vulnerable, giving space to a person to sneak through the walls you have caged yourself in. Lily, don't close off yourself to the point that you start suffocating."
It was easy for Inaaya to put Laila's shuttered life in words, but Inaaya had a whole world to protect her when she fell and shattered. Laila didn't have anyone to protect her, save for Malka. Inaaya knew what Laila had been through, but knowing and experiencing were two different things. Laila had seen humiliation, manipulation, and cruelty intimately.
Laila had known that day when she was abducted, that she was made of fragile pieces in a world that was full of stones and claws. So, she built walls and walls around her, coiling it all with barbered wire to keep her emotions locked in. There was no way she could look deep within herself without making her own hands bleed. Her emotions were in a form of hell, a hell she hardly ever descended and she wasn't going to start anytime soon.
"Don't get philosophical with me. I uh I tried." She did. She wanted to reach out and say the words, but Inaaya was right she couldn't say it unless the sorry didn't mean anything to her. But saying sorry to him meant something to her, and that wasn't the pandora box she wanted to open yet, or ever.
"You tried it because now you want to be friends, Psyco Pendulum." Inaaya rolled her eyes.
"Well I mean," Laila stole her gaze away from Inaaya's teasing one. She hesitantly replied, "You said we are already friends so what's the point of all this right?"
"Haan, Haan, karo ab yeh dramay. You're dying to hear him call you Lubna so you can pull a sassy reply on him. Itna mar rahi hai to bol de. It's just a sorry, Pretty Pie. Just say it. "
"Not even. Stop bothering me."
What bothered her more was that Inaaya was right. There was a vast space somewhere within Laila that missed him. That missed that lopsided smile he gave after growling at the whole world. That glint in his when he kept calling her Lubna. She missed that connection with him.
Laila was stepping into the water she was terrified of, not knowing whether she was going to stay afloat or drown. It seemed she had somehow dipped her toes in it, hoping and praying that it wouldn't come up to her mouth and drown her.
"Give me that," Inaaya whispered to the spa lady while pointing at her best friend's bag. Inaaya took another look at her best friend, Laila was rather enjoying the shoulder massage with her eyes closed.
Inaaya knew Laila was going to throw her under a damn bus, but she needed to do this. She took Laila's phone out and unlocked it, pulling up the contact of her boss. Ya Allah, please keep me alive at least until I find a good looking husband and wear a Sabyasachi wedding lehenga. She typed away the message.
Laila
I am sorry. Please, take
care of my Penguin. Keep
it away from Natasha.
Inaaya was going to type I miss being at the office, but stopped short of sending it. Don't push it, Inaaya, if you want to live. She archived the message so Laila couldn't see it right away. Inaaya turned the phone off before putting it back into Laila's bag and started praying for her safety.
"Itne paise zaaya kiye aur bootha waise ka waise. Badrang." Laila grimaced at the bill as Inaaya signed away with a hefty tip.
"Tu kyun sar rahi hai. Tere bank se nikal raha hai? Mere baap ka maal hai, jidher bhi mein zaaya karoon." Laila tried to reach for her phone, but Inaaya pulled her out of the Spa Saloon. "Tere jaib se to ek sikka nahi nikalta. I declare you a KK?"
"KK?" She rounded the car and sat in the passenger seat.
"Kanjoos Kutti." Inaaya grinned at her, flashing her white teeth.
"Filter thoos le moun mein. Aise ni tujhe koi milne wala. Sun ke hi bhag jaye ga." Laila turned her phone on. A slight disappointment spread within her at no message or email from certain brooding boss.
"Aise kaise nahi milega. Shakal hai. Aqal hai. Paisa Hai. Profession. Batao kis cheez ki kami hai mujhe mein. Dekho zara chehra. Haye khud ki nazar he na lag jaye. Zara kaala teeka to lago."
"Bus kar de meri maa. Khuda ka wasta tujhe." Laila shook her head, laughing at her friend's innocent vanity.
"Chal maaf kia. Ek do din mein jayen ge aur tumhare in murda baalon ko bhi thori jaan de dein ge. Emotions agar qabr mein dafan hai at least balon ko to zinda rakho. Mere bhai ki shaadi hai, logon ko bhi pata chale larke ki family kon hai."
Refuting Inaaya was equivalent to banging her head on a wall so she sat sulking in her seat. Inaaya was only one in the world Laila allowed to spend money on her because Inaaya was her sister and there wasn't that ounce of pride or favor between them. They had been joined at the hips since their diaper days at St. Mary's apparently. Laila also knew that if Inaaya didn't have anything, she'd still break the sookhi roti in half and share it with Laila.
"Since I have got a whole week off, do you have time to go to the orphanage. I called Sister Rosalie and she said Mother Margaret is not feeling well. I'm worried, Niya." It was one of those rare times when Laila let herself be, letting her emotions hang on her sleeves. Letting the tip of the iceberg rise above the water while burying and hiding everything else.
"We'll definitely go sometime this week. Nothing is going to happen to her. She'll be fine. She is a fighter, and so many kids need her." Inaaya glanced her way before focussing back on the road
The fact was that Inaaya knew they were going to lose Mother Margaret in the near future, she was ninety-years with health issues, but there was no way Inaaya could even bring a word of truth on her tongue. Sometimes it was better to lie, especially in the case of her best friend's sanity. She just hoped desperately that Malka and she had enough strength to hold Laila together when it all happened.
Laila finally put her foot down for the night, exhausted to her bones, she flopped on the bed. She liked the small quaint house Adeel showed her. It was in a quiet neighborhood with no peeking aunties. The house was in her budget in the long run if she paid all the installments.
The warmth radiated through her body as she smiled at the poster of a penguin on the ceiling. A sense of security and pride enveloped her as she thought finally having a home for Malka and herself. A place they owned. It was going to be theirs, something no one will ever be able to take away from them.
She closed her eyes, listening to her steady heartbeat. A tired smile barely touched her lips. As if she was floating calmly in the middle of the ocean with no care for anything and the breeze caressed her face. Or that she had finally found her flicker of light in the middle of absolute darkness.
"Pyar ho gaya, shaadi karva doon tumhari bhi?" Malka must have noticed that small smile on her lips.
"Aisse manhoos topic chairti ho na, mera mood hi kharab ho jaata hai." Laila cinched her nose, yet still floating in her peace.
"To yeh eid ka chaand kis khushi mein nazar aa raha hai?" Malka pulled her cheeks, making her smile wider.
"Aise he."
"Nahi kuch to hua hai." Laila kissed her cheek, trying to escape her curious gaze.
"Kuch nahi. Seriously." Laila snatched the towel from the door of her close and walked into the bathroom, leaving behind a suspicious Malka.
She finished the last two rakat of shukrana nafl when her phone buzzed on the bed. She raised her hands in dua, thankful for everything she had been granted. She prayed for everyone's safety and without a thought, Ali Sir's name was whispered too and she didn't even realize it as she folded her prayer mat.
Ali Sir
Your penguin is safe
and happy here. It is
keeping me company.
She furrowed her eyebrows at the preview of the text message. Was he drunk or what? She unlocked the phone to see the photo sent to her. It was a photo of the stuffed penguin. The penguin was rolled into a small scarf, sitting on the lamp on his office table. The beautiful laughter erupted from her lips in soft tones. But it was short-lived as she scrolled up, seeing that message apparently sent from her phone.
Laila dropped her phone on the bed, sitting there in utter shock. Inaaya Aamir. She was going to strangle her with bare hands. She slammed her finger on her phone, calling Inaaya. Of course, the coward harami wasn't going to answer. She flopped back, putting the pillow on her face. He probably thought what a psycho she was. Thank God she didn't have to see him over the week or she would have jumped out of his window due to embarrassment. Something stopped her embarrassing thoughts. She leaned up looking at the clock. It was already past one. Why was he in the office?
Laila
Why are you still in office?
That too on a Sunday?
Ali Sir
Taking care of your penguin🐧
Laila
I'm serious!
Ali Sir
So am I! Okay fine. The city
put the project up for the
hospital finally. They are
looking into all the private
companies. I m redoing the
prints.
He sent her the photos of all the blueprints he was recreating. She flipped through the photos, reading through all the reports. The hospital was far too costly for the location the city was going to allot them.
Laila
For Harnoi? We won't get approved.
This is far too upscale for that area.
Hence, everyone will try to block this
from going through.
Ali Sir
I don't know, but I'm going to
pull something here. I can't
let this go. I already have the
meeting set up with the land-
owner. If we got the land in our
corner, We'll have the upper hand
in this.
Laila
You really want this huh?
Ali Sir
No, Laila. I need this... at any cost.
Laila
What is it with you and hospitals?
There was no reply. The phone had gone silent. She realized she had touched on the subject that should have been left alone. She went through the prints on the white canvas and the former blueprints he was utterly obsessed with. She zoomed in to the old ones to see the trademark. Saeed Regional Hospital. What in the world? She knew that hospital. Hell, everyone knew that hospital, it was the biggest and best hospital in the whole country. Only the top of the top had access to it. The hospital for the elite of their society. The only reason she ever saw the face of it was because Inaaya had her internship there.
Ali Sir
Good Night, Miss Lubna!
The sweetness of a genuine smile spread across her lips as they curled up reading that name. Her stomach flipped as she laughed quietly.
Laila
L.A.I.L.A🙄
And go home.
She had seen the glass with amber liquid in it. Junaid was off from work. She wanted to say something but hesitated. Then what if drove after drinking even if he had a little bit? Something sparked in her stomach, making it churn with acid.
Laila
Don't drive.
I'm calling an uber for you.
Ali Sir
You saw that in photos.
Sneaky. I'm not that drunk.
Cheers to your week off though!
The photo popped up. The glass was raised as he smirked at the camera. The tie had disappeared somewhere and the white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top. The hair was a mess as usual with him probably pushing his hands through it constantly. She rolled her eyes. She definitely sent that to mess with her. Not that drunk? Sure! His eyes were red, a mix of alcohol and persistent tiredness.
Laila
It's going to be there in five
minutes. Did Natasha order
dinner tonight?
Ali Sir
It's Sunday today. She is off.
Laila
I'm sure your fridge is filled
some exotic food. Eat that
before the Jin start doing
shame shame about it. 👻
Ali Sir
Your Jins are starting to get
bit annoying😤, but I like the
company. But, Yes Ma'am!
Laila
Good Night!🙏🏻
Ali Sir
Night, Rapunzel!
Rapunzel? Definitely drunk. She rolled in her bed, putting the phone under her pillow. She closed her eyes, but that smile was there.
"Mein Saint Mary's ja rahi hoon. Jaana hai?" Laila was sitting on the charpoy on the roof, soaking the morning sun. She had been enjoying the past few mornings with Malka. She missed the calm morning when she enjoyed the breakfast, relishing the taste of food along with the freshness of the new day. She bit into halwa-poori Malka had cooked. The street was already bustling with morning activities, the sabzi wala yelling at the top of his voice.
"Nahi. Meri baat already hui thi Sister Rosalie se." Malka's voice was a bit hesitant. Laila arched her eyebrow at her, but the older one just looked away towards the view of the crowded rooftops that edged along with each other. "Nashta kar lo phir ek baat karni thi." Malka sipped on her tea, the morning rays made her green eyes more vibrant like the color of spring leaves, but Laila could see the dilemma in them. Before she could reply, her phone vibrated. She swiped up and bit her smile looking at the photo.
Ali Sir
Sher Khan and I are having
our breakfast. He is well
taken care of.
The little penguin was sitting in front of Ali Sir's coffee mug. God, this man was ridiculous.
Laila
Sher Khan? who?
Ali Sir
Well, the little penguin. We
can't just leave him unnamed
that's rude. Do you want me
to send that article back to
you?
Laila
Sher Khan? No way.
I refuse. Rejected.
Ali Sir
Excuse me! You have no say in
it. You disowned him. You have
no rights over him.
Laila
Technically you kidnapped
him from my office so I can
file a case against you.
Ali Sir
Nope. Sher Khan prefers me over
you.
Laila
REJECTED!
Ali Sir
Well what do you want me to name
him? Lil Lubna?
The smile she was trying so hard to hide went down the drain as she burst out in a laugh. Malka stared at her suspiciously over her cup of Chai.
"Badhi mashkook harktein kar rahi ho aaj kal. Matlab agar koi ladka hai to bata do. Ab mein thori na koi na bolun gi. Mein to shukrane ke nafl ada kar loon gi ke mere sar se musibat utha li." Malka nonchalantly sipped her chai as if she hadn't just said all that.
"Kitni koi be reham Maa ho. Aise koi bolta hai bachon ko." Laila shook her head.
"Bata do is se pehle ke Safiya aake Mujhe bataye ke meri beti bhag gayi kisi ladke ke saath. Inaaya ne bataya tha tum Adeel ke saath bhag rahi thi." Malka snickered teasing her.
"Yeh jo roz tumhare kaan bharti hai na. Baaz aajao. Bari meesni hai woh. Mohalle ki auntiyan ban gayi ho tum dono." Laila scrunched her nose, stuffing her mouth with halwa. God forbid if Inaaya could ever keep anything to herself, the world would go in retrograde.
"Mein to kehti hoon Sorry bol do." Malka shrugged her shoulders. "Idher ao. Waise bhi baal banane hai tumhare hai." Malka put her cup away. Laila put the dishes away on the small table in the corner before sitting on the floor in front of her. "Maafi mangne aur maaf karne se sab se badha munafa insaan ko khud hota hai. Maafi se sukoon milta hai. Warna jo andar narazgi, ghutan, aur ghusa haina woh sab tumhare sukoon ko dheemak ki tarahn khamoshi se kha jaye ga. Aur agar maafi mangna aur maaf karna nahi sikhogi to zindagi bohat mushkil ho jaye gi, Meri Jaan. Mukamal sirf khuda ki zaat aur uska deen hai. Baqi yahan koi baydagh nahi hai. Sab ke daman per dagh hote hai. Aur jab Allah humein badhe badhe gunahon ke liye maaf kar sakta hai to tum kyun nahi maafi mang sakti?" Malka soothingly ran her hands through Laila's long strands, weaving them into an intricate braid.
"Per jinko hum maaf kardein woh bar bar phir hamein ussi jaga zakhm detein hai. Aur phir hamein pata he nahi hota aur hum toot ke bhikar jaate hai. Itna ke samaitne ke liye puri zindagi kam par jaati hai." Laila put her chin on her knees as she watched birds flying across the bright sky.
"Maafi mein aur kisi ko bina lagam khud pe taqat dene mein farq hai. Maaf karo apne sukoon ke liye. Lekin jab wohi shakhs sukoon barbad kare to usko apni zindagi se alag kardo."
"Kitab likh lo. Zindagi Ke Anmol Usool." Laila put her head on Malka's lap, teasing her. "Bohat famous ho jao gi."
"Woh to already mein badhi famous hoon iss mohalle mein, Tum na jealous ho." Malka bent down and kissed the crown of Laila's head.
"Kuch aur baat jo karni thi. Uska kya?" Laila stood up, picking up the empty dishes.
"Woh choro. Kisi aur din. Jao jaane se pehle bartan dho dena. Naashta maine banay tha." Malka tried to shoo her away as she opened her Quran to do her morning recitation.
"Child Labor!" Laila stuck her tongue out at her before descending the stairs.
"Theek hai saath mein mere liye ek aur cup chai le aana."
Inaaya had bailed out her due to an emergency at the hospital, but she sent her driver. Laila cruised through the city easily. Maybe Malka was right. A car would make her life much easier, but she needed to invest in the house first, plus the house was closer to the central city. The commute to work would be easy. Just then her phone buzzed.
Ali Sir
The meeting was fucking shit.
You need to come back to work
I'm canceling your vacation.
Laila
What did you do?😒
Ali Sir
What did I do?
Laila
Haan. matalb har fasad ki
wajah to aap he hote hai.
Ali Sir
Keep up the attitude.
I'll bring Natasha back.
Laila
Natasha left?
Ali Sir
The girl couldn't handle me
for two seconds. one word
and ten tears. I think my office
is flooded with her tears.
Laila
Condolences.
I'll have the cleaners show up.
Ali Sir
I swear Laila get your ass back
to work before I lose my mind.
Laila
Can't!
Ali Sir
Excuse me?
Laila
Eloping🏃🏻♀️🏃🏻♂️
remember?
Ali Sir
Hahahaha! funny. I am sure
you can hear my laugh across
the town.
Everything within her came to rest, like the sand sinks at the bottom leaving the water quiet and clear. That's what this place did to her. The chaos dissolving away, giving space to the waves of rhythmic calm. The calm never got old, no matter how many times she visited the orphanage. The sky seemed the brightest of the blue, and the sun was warming the coldness in her bones. She walked towards the gate. It had been a few months since she had tried to come by. Manzar Chacha was sitting with his good old stick that he kept from his Police career as she approached him.
"Laila!" The old man stood up as she said her salams. "Itne dino baad. Mein to pareshan ho gaya tha."
"Nahi, bus job lag gayi to din wahi guzar jaata hai. kabhi to weekends bhi aise chale jaate hai. Ab, InshAllah, aksar chakar lagaya karoon gi."
She sat there with him for a good amount of the hour, catching up on the orphanage, and of course the stories from his police career. After finishing her conversation, Laila walked through the wrought iron gates. It was more as if she trespassed into the memories of her childhood.
The shy little girl with a mushroom-cut hair, in a faded yellow frock, curled up on the roof with books and notebooks, away from all the other kids. She'd draw and read all day, missing Inaaya, until Sister Rosalie would find her with a plate of food. When the sun would kiss the rooftop goodbye leaving behind the shadows of the dusky evening, She'd go running down the stair to find Mother Margaret because that little girl was scared of the darkness. Mother Margaret would be walking to the church for the night prayers and little Laila would follow her like a shadow. She'd help Mother Margaret set up the place for the night prayers before taking her books and sitting in the piano room as they finished their prayers. She'd always end up falling asleep on the couch and later woken up by Mother Margaret. Laila was a shy little kid, but her mind was full of chaotic questions that she'd spring on Mother Margaret as they walked back to the dormitory and their conversation would always end with the same exact few sentences.
"You're really special, Lailah. Lord's got a beautiful plan for you. Someday you'll have the entire world in your little hands."
Laila never understood those words back then and she still didn't now. The only thing she had in her hands was the constant fight to survive and bad memories.
She was watching all the kids on the playground, and the majority of them were girls. The daunting reality of their society that most of them were thrown out simply because they were girls. Hardly anyone adopted and if they did most of them wanted boys. The obsession of this society with having a boy at home was surreal, appalling, and pathetic. The kids of all backgrounds, religions, caste, and creeds, all brought together by one thing... being abandoned. The rhythm of their life made of all unknowns, along with not knowing when life would take a harsh turn, just like it did for Laila.
"Laila," The serene voice and the loving touch on her hair. She smiled turning towards Sister Rosalie.
"I missed you all." She wrapped her arms around Sister Rosalie who now grew white roots in her hair under that black veil and coif. The almond-shaped eyes were covered with glasses. Sister Rosalie was merely in her thirties when little Laila had been living here. "I don't come here for a few months and you get a whole new makeover." She teased her.
"It is so calming to see your beautiful soul again here. How have you been?"
They started walking through the corridors, she grew up in, towards the monastery behind the colossal orphanage building. Laila ran her fingers against the Old British Architecture, the memories of her childhood etched into these walls. The conversation with Sister Roselie made her realize she had been absent from here for far too long.
"Can I see her?" Laila stopped outside the Monastery.
"She is sleeping right now. I just gave her the medicine that the doctor prescribed. She keeps asking for you." Sister Rosalie held Laila's hands as Laila smelled fear from her words. Oh God, No. "I wanted to talk to you about it." Sister Rosalie squeezed her hand as if trying to give her divine strength to Laila. "She keeps saying it's time for her soul to depart. It's her time, Laila. Even the doctors are trying to lessen her physical pain. We don't know when the Lord has written it, but all we can do is pray for her."
Laila couldn't breathe. Her body was shivering. There was no way Allah would do that to her. She had been abandoned over and over. There was no way it could happen again, and Mother Margaret. She promised Laila that she'd never abandon her. Laila's throat closed up. The resolve she built against her fear, shattering piece by piece. Laila could barely standstill with her world crashing.
"I just need to breathe."
She left. She left before Sister Rosalie could say a word. Her trembling legs carried her across the grass towards the stone path that led to the mahogany doors. She pushed through them. It was quiet with few kids praying in the front with Sisters. She found the pew she always loved, in the corner with the sun shining through the stained glass on her. What is she going to do? Her mind was fogged with pain and only pain. She covered her face, praying to Allah for solace, for strength, and for hope. Just then her phone vibrated. She pulled out her phone, expecting it to be Inaaya, but it was her boss.
Ali Sir
Took Sher Khan out
for lunch to his old place.
He had put the penguin on her desk next to his lunch. In between the swells of pain, she had a thread of smile.
Laila
What are you doing in my office?
Ali Sir
My assistant decided to elope so
I'm doing all the work on my own.
Needed the pharmaceutical files.
What are you doing?
Laila could lie, but she couldn't. Even if it was not her place of worship, she was still in a place where people worshipped with sincerity. She couldn't lie. And there was some kind of numbness in her mind that made all her walls fade. The fog of grief was far too thick for her to see anything else.
Laila
I'm at St. Mary's in the Church.
Ali Sir
What are you doing there? Wait
I thought you were Muslim?
Laila
I am🙄
I grew up here though.
Ali Sir
Ahhh, Ok. How is it being back?
Laila
Not good.
Ali Sir
Why? What's going on?
Laila
I don't know.
Ali Sir
What the hell, Laila? What's
going on? Are you okay?
Laila
I don't know. I think I'm about
to lose it all and I don't know
how to deal with it.
The memories were scalding as she watched the front of the church. She could see Mother Margaret sitting in the front praying while little Laila sat in this pew with her nose in the books. What was she going to do? She had merely heard the speculation and the whole world was crashing, what if it happened? Oh God. She covered her mouth with both her hands to muffle the agonizing sobs. The tears every so silently flowing down.
The shadow loomed over her before the quiet steps moved into the same row as her. The person sat next to her. The slacks clad legs stretched in front of him, barely fitting there. They sat there quietly for a long time before the stuffed penguin was put in her lap.