[Bismillah.]
This chapter is only for context. The book begins on chapter one, aik.
I love you. muah <3
♡♡♡
— Z A I R A —
Zindagi mein aik dafaa billi ka bacha paalna hai. I listed on my bucket list.
"Ho gayi neend poori?" Anza asked, sitting next to me in class.
"Nahin, do minute aur so loon, dehaan rakhna." I pointed to the associate professor, using my chin.
I pushed my earpieces through one of the whole set of long corkscrew curls I have and rested my head on the desk.
Atif Aslam makes my day, night, morning, evening, afternoon.
Dare to claim being a bigger fan of him and I'll slice your throat and serve you to my dear younger sister Alina, who loves meat and most definitely wouldn't mind helping me hide a body in her stomach.
We'll think about the bones later.
I kept lucid dreaming about kittens, feeling their soft fur and cuddling with them until my phone vibrated with a notification and stopped Atif Aslam from playing in my earphones.
Ayan: @ Shareef Bachchey:
Dadi ammi faut ho gayi
hain. Bare taaya abbu
ne sab ko ghar bulaaya
hai. Pakistan.
What?
Zain: @ Shareef Bachchey
ha. ha. ha. No one can say no.
Mahira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Luddiyaan paao.
Nida: @ Shareef Bachchey
Iss baar tum bhi aao gi, Zaira.
What?
WHAAT?
I looked around and grabbed my things before rushing out of the class and almost jumping in the campus. I ran to my car, sat in and squealed as loud as possible.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Of course, yaar.
Finally cousins reunion hoga,
eeeeeeeek!
Did I just squeal in the chat? On text? Wow.
I called home and mama picked up.
"Mama, yaar, iss baar tickets jaldi leni hain aur sab ki leni hain." I exclaimed. "Baara saal ho gaye hain, abbh kisi exam yaa kisi bhi aur bahaane nahin rukk rahi main." I cleared it out right at the moment.
"Beadab larki, thora dukh dikhaao, banda zara ro hi leta hai. Dadi faut huyi hain tumhaari." She informed me, deeply vocalising every word of the last sentence.
"Bas karein yaar, navey saal ki tou yaqeenan theen woh. Abbh faut nahin hona tha tou park mein jhoole lene the?" I asked mama. "Waise le bhi sakti theen, agar log kuchh naa kehte toh,"
I contemplated, then heaved a sigh,
"Bechaari, loggon ki baatein sunn'ne waali aur zindagi naa jeene waali khaatoon theen, bilkul aap ki tarha. Aap bhi waise tou andar se khush hi haun gi... Saas mari hai, kis aurat ko khushi nahin ho gi? Bas abbh yeh naqli rona-dhona bhoolein aur unnh ki misaal yaad rakhein. Zindagi mukhtasar hai, logon ka soche baggeir jaldi se jee lein khul ke iss se pehle ke-"
I heard a teen teen teen and looked at my phone. Mama had cut the call.
Haroon: @ Shareef Bachchey
Inna Lillahi Waa
Inna Ilaihi Rajeeon.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Aww, mela paala sa
bhai bala ho gaya.
Maya: @ Shareef Bachchey
Kam az kam teen mahine
yahaan rehne ka tou bolein ge.
I received a private text from Maya.
Maya:
Agar tum nahin aana chaahti,
tou it's okay, we'll videocall.
Zaira:
TUM NAHIN CHAAHTI MAIN AAON!?
Zaira:
MAYA!?
Zaira:
OK MAIN NAHIN AA RAHI.
Zaira:
HUMPH HUMPH.
Maya hurried to type apologies and how much she missed me and how she would love me to be there and I bit my laugh back as if she could hear me.
Zaira:
Haan, chalo maaf kiya,
aa rahi hoon.
Zaira:
Waise duaa karo iss hi hafte
ki tickets mil jaaein.
Zaira:
Haayee... Imagine.
I pushed down the sun visor and slid the cover of the mirror to take a picture of my smiling blue eyes when my hiccups started.
'Lahore, meri jaan. Don't miss me so much.'
I posted it on my Instagram story.
I'm such a beauty.
Twelve bleeping years are a whole bleeping lot of time. And maybe my fear did stop me here the previous times, but ain't no Hamza-Shamza stopping me from enjoying living in my land now.
I went home and papa had already bought tickets for this Friday.
I lived the rest of the evening going for a body treatment, a facial and putting mehendi on my hair because brown hair is essential for good pictures and I'll not be putting down my DSLR for a second.
- H A M Z A -
Alyssa's taste in music amazes me.
《Everybody, get up
Everybody, get up (hey, hey, hey)
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
(Turn it up)
If you can't hear what I'm trying to say
If you can't read from the same page
Maybe I'm going deaf (hey, hey, hey)
Maybe I'm going blind (hey, hey, hey)
Maybe I'm out my mind (hey, hey, hey)
Okay, now he was close
Tried to domesticate you
But you're an animal
Baby, it's in your nature (meow)
Just let me liberate you (hey, hey, hey)
You don't need no papers (hey, hey, hey)
That man is not your maker (hey, hey, hey)
And that's why I'm gon' take a
Good girl
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
You're a good girl
Can't let it get past me
You're far from plastic
Talk about getting blasted
I hate these blurred lines
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
But you're a good girl
The way you grab me
Must wanna get nasty
Go ahead, get at me (everybody come on)
What do they make dreams for, when you got them jeans on?
What do we need steam for?
You the hottest bitch in this place
I feel so lucky (hey, hey, hey)
You wanna hug me (hey, hey, hey)
What rhymes with hug me? (hey, hey, hey)
Hey! (Everybody, get up)
Okay, now he was close
Tried to domesticate you
But you're an animal
Baby, it's in your nature
Just let me liberate you (hey, hey, hey)
You don't need no papers (hey, hey, hey)
That man is not your maker (hey, hey, hey)
And that's why I'm gon' take a
Good girl
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
You're a good girl
Can't let it get past me
You're far from plastic
Talk about getting blasted
I hate these blurred lines (I hate them lines)
I know you want it (I hate them lines)
I know you want it (I hate them lines)
I know you want it
But you're a good girl
The way you grab me
Must wanna get nasty
Go ahead, get at me
One thing I ask of you
Let me be the one you back that ass up to (come on)
Go, from Malibu to Paris, boo
Yeah, had a bitch, but she ain't bad as you
So, hit me up when you pass through
I'll give you something big enough to tear your ass in two
Swag on 'em even when you dress casual
I mean, it's almost unbearable
In a hundred years not dare, would I?
Pull a Pharcyde, let you pass me by
Nothing like your last guy, he too square for you
He don't smack that ass and pull your hair for you (you like it)
So I'm just watching and waiting
For you to salute the truly pimping
Not many women can refuse this pimping
I'm a nice guy, but don't get confused, this pimping
Shake your rump
Get down, get up-a
Do it like it hurt, like it hurt
What you don't like work?
Hey! (Everybody, get up)
Baby, can you breathe?
I got this from Jamaica
It always works for me
Dakota to Decatur
No more pretending (hey, hey, hey)
'Cause now you winning (hey, hey, hey)
Here's our beginning (hey, hey, hey)
I always wanted a
Good girl
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
You're a good girl
Can't let it get past me
You're far from plastic
Talk about getting blasted
I hate these blurred lines
I know you want it
I know you want it
I know you want it
But you're a good girl
The way you grab me
Must wanna get nasty
Go ahead, get at me
Everybody, get up
Everybody, get up
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey》
♡♡♡
I wake up to a ringing phone and find myself covered by a duvet in a hotel room.
I wince at the sound of my phone and hurry to pick it up before Alyssa wakes up.
"Hello, ammi?" My voice comes out disoriented as I look around to remember what happened last night. "Emergency?"
The hangover makes my head ache and I regret it for a second before remembering all the fun I had last night.
I turn my head to Alyssa and roll my eyes at her face full of nude makeup. I'm sure she woke up a few minutes ago and quickly applied this to make me think that this is how she naturally looks when she wakes up.
And I was thinking about how fun she is. Girls legit ruin their personality with these small things and then ask why they are not enough.
"Hamza, banda call back hi kar deta hai itne missed calls dekh ke." Ammi complains. I hear a worry in her voice and stop thinking.
"Kyaa hua hai, ammi?"
"Dadi ammi faut ho gayi hain tumhaari." She tells me and I rush a hand through my hair.
"Oh." I scratch the back of my neck. "Aur?" I embrace myself for the worst as I look at Alyssa.
She slowly opens her eyes and looks up at me, then smiles blinking to the bright sunlight.
As if she weren't awake.
Three inch fool.
"Tumhaare abbu ne sab ko Pakistan bulaaya hai. Tumhaare donon chaachu ko bhi. Sab aa rahe hain." Ammi reluctantly explains.
I groan understanding the point of the call. I get up and pull up my pants.
"Kitne waqt ke liye?" I ask, smiling to Alyssa, who sits on the bed and opens her arms making a moue of disappointment.
I frown slightly and pull her chin to kiss her a bye before gesturing that I got an emergency.
I 'forget' some money on the sidetable before donning my shirt and leaving.
As always, after spinning the whole topic, ammi answers. And the answer is not pleasurable. "Teen mahinon ki baat ho rahi thi." She says and I close my eyes, pausing in my track. "Lekin Hamza tum-"
I cut the call and as I get into the elevator, I search for Nida's contact on my phone.
Why can't the whole family just come and live here? Why the fuck does that freedom-snatcher country even exist?
After I get down, I make a click to call Nida.
"Dadi ammi faut ho gayi hain, abbh cousins reunion pakka hai. Bhai, Zaira ke saath larr ke sab kharaab naa karna abbh. Woh waise hi bohot khush lagg rahi thi, har waqt tang naa kiya karo usse. Aik baar-"
"-That snowflake?" I snort. "Is she coming?"
"Haan naa yaar. Abbu ka bohot dil tha. Aap ne phone kyun kiya hai? Mujhe lagaa chats parrh ke kar rahe hain." She questions.
"Does she know I'm coming, too?" I lift a brow, feeling my evil smirk dent deep haunting caves in my cheeks.
"Of course, yaar. Abbu ne kahaa hai ke sab ka aana zaroori hai, aur Zaira sab mein shaamil hai." She claims and I shake my head at her.
I know why she said that and I never meant that.
Near the entrance, I see a mirror and catch sight of the wicked grin that blooms on my face. "Tell ammi to not worry, I'm coming. And you, stop bechari-fying her." I cut the call.
- Z A I R A -
Breathe in, breathe out. It's okay. It's all well. It's all going to turn out alright.
Bismillah.
I clicked on call.
One ring.
Two rings.
I looked at my phone as my heart almost raced out of my room's window. I put a hand over my breast, holding it in. LA mein terhween manzil se kood ke bachna mushqil hi nahin, naa mumkin hai.
Dil, sambhal ja zara.
"You dialed the wrong number." Mr. Promise-breaker cut the call.
Bewaqoof insaan.
Yaar, text kar doon?
Nahin, phir texts ki screenshots le le ke bheje ga baar baar, mazaak uraane ke liye.
I clicked on the phone icon again and he picked it up after a fourth ring.
"Darling, do you not have a watch-"
"Nahin. Lekin wall clock hai. Lekin yeh nahin pataa ke tum New York mein ho yaa Lahore jaa chuke ho." My voice shook as I spoke. I heard a sigh and some shifting from the other side.
"You okay?" He asked.
Kamina.
'Please go jump out of a window' waale messages kar ke aise baat kar rahaa hai jaise isse meri fiqr hai.
Aur main yaqeen bhi kar rahi hoon aur bonus mein pighal bhi rahi hoon.
Matlab, itna bura bhi nahin hai yaar. Haan, waada hi toraa thaa; kabbhi kabaar larraayi karta hai; childish, attention seeker, crybaby bulaata hai, lekin fiqr toh hai naa usse.
Dil ka buraa tou nahin hai.
Ex-best friends bhulaane tou nahin hote naa.
"Haan." I said, then bit my lip lying down on my bed.
"Then put the goddam phone down and don't call me again." I heard a teen teen teen from the other side.
Wha-!
AND I CALLED TO END THIS WAR.
Moron.
Lekin, agar main naa kehti, tou?
I pulled up the blanket.
Baat karta? Kyaa kehta? Poochhta kyun? Aur jab main kehti ke main iss bachpaney se tang aayi hui hoon aur yeh jhagrey band karna chaahti hoon tou sach mein jhagrey band kar deta?
Pichhli baar tou nahin ki thi baat. Pichhli baar tou promise bhi kiya thaa saath dega, phir bhi phone kaatt diya tha crybaby bulaa ke.
Lekin usse chhe saal tou hone waale hain...
Woh tab kam'umr tha. Ikkis saal ka ho gayaa hai, chhe saal mein kuchh tou behtri aayi ho gi?
My eyes started shutting, and I dozed for a minute or two before feeling like I'm falling from a high building and I startled up.
Wait. What was I even thinking about?
Mr. Promise-breaker? Behtri?
Agar uss mein behtri aayi hoti tou abbhi takk mujhe crybaby naa bulaata. Aur naa hi uss baat ko 'not a big deal' keh ke har baar ttaalta.
Haan, mere khilaaf nahin istamaal kiya. Kabhi kisi ko nahin bataaya uss baare mein lekin yeh chhupaana tou banta tha. Agar khudanaakhasta mere khilaaf meri kamzori istamaal karta tou izzat ke qaabil bhi naa rehta. Of course, nahin kar sakta.
Iss mein koyi bari baat nahin hai. Koyi ehsaan nahin kiya uss ne mujh pe.
Kamina hai, thaa aur rahe ga jab takk tang karna band naa kar de.
♡♡♡
The evening before we departed for Pakistan, I sat on my desk with a bowl of ice cream and wrote my diary all curled up on my chair with my blanket and a night jumpsuit.
While I wrote down about the post Aadee uploaded in the beginning of August, my phone started vibrating with messages and more and more messages that wouldn't stop coming even after I had opened WhatsApp.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Mere bechaare phone pe thora
rehem karo, waise hi cancer ke last
stage pe hai, iss mein itni taaqat
nahin hai ke itne messages ka
wazan seh sake.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
Maybe change your phone
instead of telling others what
to do.
While I wrote the answer to it, Mahira and Maryam spammed the whole WhatsApp fighting for a charger. Chaachu and his whole family (chaachi, Zain, Mahira, Ayan and Maryam) was reported -by our group's official reporter, Ayan- to have shifted from Karachi for the stay, yesterday. Mahira had lost her charger, and she was now taking advantage of being the elder sister to blackmail Maryam into sharing her charger with her.
Maryam, the poor girl said okay, but Mahira was probably as lazy as I am and wanted Maryam to go to her.
I snorted a laugh.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Nida? Aap ne apne bhai ko
samjhaaya nahin ke main unnh
se koyi baat nahin karna chaahti?
Behtar hoga agar woh mujh se
Pakistan mein door rahein,
kisi bhi tareeqe ka panga naa lein.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
"Panga" that's like a big girl.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Shut up. We both know we
hate each other and I don't know
about you, but I, for sure, do not
want to make my trip to Pakistan
a disaster. And that's the only
reason I called you the other day.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Can we not fight? Please?
Haroon: @ Shareef Bachchey
Nooooo! I was so excited.
About?
Haroon: @ Shareef Bachchey
I wanted to see you two fight and
entertain us all. I don't want to go
to Pakistan if you two don't fight.
I got up from all the comfort, walked to Haroon's room and smacked his head then rushed back in my room before he could even touch me.
"Bari behen ko maaro ge!?" I shouted as he knocked on my door.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
HAHAHAHAHAHA.
He used those extra-hard laughing tears emojis that are only available on iOS, few other new models of Android and a Chinese brand I don't remember the name of.
I have a model that only shows emojis on WhatsApp. This old phone, let alone showing old emojis, rarely ever shows emojis in a black android appearance.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
Sorry Haroon, I don't mess with
weak kids. The scaredy cat's afraid
and I don't want to frighten her more.
How dare he.
HOW DARE HE!
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Weak your ass. Scaredy cat my foot.
Looks like you were already planning
on ruining my stay. Then wait
till I get there, Mr. Promise-breaker.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
I wasn't planning on ruining
your stay, but I was, for sure,
planning on making mine worth a bit.
And, stop calling me that, Ms. Childish.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Sabr, janaab - waada-e-faraamosh,
sabr. Itni besabri se mera intezaar
naa karein, mujhey hichkiyaan aa
rahi hain.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
Roney se? Abbhi se ro rahi hain aap?
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Apni favourite waali bataaein.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
Position?
Asshole. He literally sends the worst emojis, I can't even add them in my diary.
*insert devil smirking emoji*
I'm sorry, diary.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Gaali.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Mujh se choose nahin ho rahi. Saari
aap pe fit aati hain. Aise laggta
hai jaise aap ke liye hi bani haun.
Mr. Promise-breaker: @ Shareef Bachchey
Aap ki zubaan se joh achhi lagey.
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Meri zubaan se sab achha lagta hai,
aap apni passand bataaein.
Maya: @ Shareef Bachchey
Oye hoye, pasand-shasand bataai
jaa rahi hai. Sulaah ho gayi? Did
I miss anything?
Zaira: @ Shareef Bachchey
Chup karo yaar, Maya.
♡♡♡
[JazakAllah, cuties.]