right shoulder and her eyes snapped open, as if terrified from another nightmare that she thought nearly came alive. She breathed harder, being covered under the comforter which made her damp with sweat. Beside on the bed she saw it was dadi, leaning on the elbow with her chadar draping along on one side; her frail clavicles showed from the neckline of the kameez.

"Zoha, beti." A crooning whisper broke the placate silence. "It's getting late for university."

Zoha's wide eyes immediately searched for the time in the clock. As soon as she discovered that it was ten past eight, only twenty minutes were left to eight-thirty, because it took ten minutes on the way to university. She flung the comforter aside and got out of bed.

"Dadi, why didn't you wake me earlier? Now I have so little time to get ready." Zoha in frenzy picked her clothes from the wardrobe.

"If you were aware I have been waking you up for so long."

"So it's my fault then." She said it to herself. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep after fajr." After taking out the new pair of shalwar kameez she went to the bathroom.

"What will you eat for breakfast? Rumina came in earlier. She told me there is bread and paratha. Whichever you like." Dadi raised her voice to send the message to Zoha in the bathroom.

For a while there was no reply. So dadi stayed quiet. She grasped her knees and mused. Her eyes were locked at the things on the dressing table, which had Zoha's fragile beauty box that trapped her jewelries. Some of the accessories were given to her as gifts and some she bought it herself. Her choice of selection was very unique and elegant. And that's why she used her things carefully, keeping it long-lasting.

"Bread." Zoha's voice echoed in the bathroom. "Tell Rumina I will be there in a second."

"Acha. I am going down. I have other things to order her too for the day." Dadi labored to get up from the bed, clutching her knees and slid her other hand around the waist to maintain the askewed posture. Reaching the door, she reminded. "It is thirteen past eight."

"Yeah, I am dressed up." Zoha came out of the bathroom in a rapid fire. Her long light brown hair rested on her shoulder, hanging past the chest. She hurriedly shot a glance in the mirror and grabbed the comb from the dressing table. Turning on the side with the hand on her head she said, "I am not drinking the orange juice. Just get the toasts ready with the scrambled egg. Will be down in few seconds." Then faced back at the mirror.

Dadi listened and abandoned the room, slowly closing the door.

Zoha smoothed her hair from the tangled knots that were formed when she was sleeping. She made a high ponytail and swung it behind her. It appeared several times better than the face she carried to the bathroom. Her cheeks blushed as if she had applied rouge powder. But it would have made her skin drier and rough if she did. Instead she kept it moisturized which resulted in her glowing beauty.

She took her bluish-black dupatta that matched her clothes she was wearing, and hung it on her shoulder making abundant round folds. Then pinned it on either side attaching to the kameez.

Taking a last glimpse of her dressing from head to the waist, she grabbed her bag sitting on the rocking chair. Then determined to head straight down without wasting another second. She felt she had already taken enough time primping up. It was seventeen past eight now.

Downstairs she found her breakfast as said displayed on the dining table and dadi drinking tea.

Zoha took seat next to dadi.

"You are having breakfast too?" Zoha said as she ripped the piece of her toast.

"Earlier is better for me. I was feeling hungry." She chuckled. "Don't know where Rumina is hiding this morning. After serving breakfast she went away so went away for so long that didn't even come back. If you say I can get your study room cleaned." She took another hot sip of tea, and pressed her tongue to avoid the burn.

"The study room is perfectly fine. Unless if you still want to get it dusted and fix the shelves."

"I was saying so Saliha doesn't get upset for using it all the time and not keeping it clean."

Zoha shrugged, unsure of what to add.

She took a bite of toast with egg and slurped the tea over it. It always helped soften the food in her mouth and swallow it faster.

"When I am studying I always try to avoid the mess on the shelf."

"I know you are not like that. My most responsible granddaughter."

Zoha thought: Manal is her granddaughter too. Am I better than her? Does dadi love me more than her? Maybe she does. Because I am more closer. She briskly ate as the time started to run out.

"I am watching how much you eat," dadi said. "You can escape in my absence but not in my presence. Eat properly and finish everything."

Zoha who was getting late had to fight through dadi's scrutiny. She started to feel uncomfortable that food barely slid down her throat.

"This is good enough. I am too full." She started to get up from the chair making a face. Her cheeks were quite bloated with the bite in her mouth.

"What's worse in taking the last bite?" Dadi forced.

"No. Please dadi? You don't know how much full I am. I will explode on the way to university and Sajjid baba will be upset." Zoha exaggerated to convince dadi.

"Okay then. I would have to dump the leftover," dadi said. She averted her eyes from Zoha.

As Zoha saw that dadi's face hung low, she skirted around her back and threw her arms around the nape of her neck and effusively embraced. "Dadi. I ate so much because of you. Aren't you happy with that?" She slightly whined.

Still looking away she said, "but I only asked you for one more."

Zoha looked at the empty plate which held leftover scrambled egg. "Okay." She went ahead and cleaned the whole plate, which was gleaming with oil. "I finished now. Are you happy?"

"You mean it?"

"Yes, I do." Zoha smiled. She gave another tight hug over dadi's feeble shoulder. "Can I go? It's eight twenty eight. Sajjid baba must be waiting."

She kissed dadi on the white haired head and flew away in hurry.

***************

When Sajiid dropped her to university, Zoha waved him. "Allahhafiz" and he waved back sweetly as if she was his daughter. It was true that Zoha was close to him because he had always picked and dropped her from since when she was very little. He drove her to places like kids park, when she cried and whined to dadi as a child- with plump round face, blushing red cheeks, two pigtails tied with colorful bands and tiny clips and wore floral cotton frock with knee socks and Mary Janes.

As she went to her first class, she found her best friend Hoorain sitting at the desk persistently looking into the book she was reading. She caught a vague glimpse of Zoha coming into the class, in her bluish-black clothes, darker among the others.

"Got late a little?" Hoorain said, fixing her glasses. She half closed the book putting her hand stuck in the middle.

Zoha shuffled around to settle in her seat. She placed her sling bag in her lap, and managed to speak. "I woke up little late. Like eight-ten. It was crazy getting here on time."

Hoorain watched the class erupting with noise in the absence of professor Zulfiqar, who often arrived late to the classroom because he had other things to deal with his assistant.

"He hadn't come yet." She noticed the time.

"You know his arrival time. He is always busy with his assistant." Zoha said. "So why didn't you come yesterday?" She felt Hoorain's forehead with the back side of her hand. "You don't have fever?"

"Oh no. I was not sick."

"Then?" Zoha shifted her concern from the fever part.

"Actually my ammi's cousin's mother died. They had a pretty close relationship. She lived little faraway so ammi took me with her on her funeral."

"Oh, that's really sad."

"Now how could I come if there is a tragedy in a family. My ammi's that cousin was deeply affected and ammi was the only one to console her. They served rice for lunch and I stayed there until night. Then Abu picked me up home."

Zoha swallowed the silence. She dug in her bag for the project she completed last night. Then showed it to Hoorain. "How did you do with the project?"

"Oh, I totally forgot about it. I think I have done a decent job. Half of the time I was caught up with something else," she said, as her hand reached in the bag.

"Did you visit that website to look for samples? I got help from it first then worked on my own."

"Yeah, I think. Wait." Hoorain groped among the collection of folders.

In the meantime, Zoha skimmed through the stapled papers. She reminded herself of the techniques and tools she used in the program. It was an advanced version of floor plan in a more three-dimensional style. Professor Zulfiqar was getting his students to get accustomed with the technology and different programs.

After Hoorain finally found the project, she deposited it on the desk beside the heavy textbook, and said, "there it is."

Zoha claimed it from her. She examined her work while Hoorain sat calmly.

"I mean it's not high level good. Simple and least presentable." Hoorain added to express her unsatisfaction.

"Mine is around there too. Don't worry."

"Can I see yours?"

Zoha nodded.

Just then the sound of the opening door captivated everyone's eyes at the door and professor Zulfiqar marked his way in, clutching two folders in his right hand. He witnessed the wave of hush that fell after his entrance.

"He is here." The last dialogue escaped someone's mouth. It instead spurred a smile on professor's face.

"What happened everyone? Have you seen a ghost or something?" He said, as he dropped the folders on the desk and stood there gazing around the room. "Sorry as always for missing out the first few minutes of the class."

Then after a while the muttering got back to the track, but with rather lower volume.

Hoorain's eyes caught at the face of professor Zulfiqar who was young and handsome, about in his thirties to spark someone's crush on him. She stared at him until Zoha shook her.

"Where are you lost?"

Hoorain shook her head. "Nowhere. He is putting up the notes. Finally."

Zoha turned in the project back to her. "Will you come to the library in lunch? I have to return the book and get another one."

"Okay." Hoorain paused. Then said, "I am thinking about returning this one too. It doesn't have what I am looking for."

As professor Zulfiqar turned away to face the bunch of eyes which were directed at him, Zoha and Hoorain picked their pens and began scribbling down the notes, though he wasn't specifically looking at them.

"Today will not be that long. Just a brief lecture, few notes and some diagrams and images in the end. That's it. Any questions or thoughts regarding anything?"

"I have a question, sir. Why are you so good-looking?" Hoorain said in a hushed voice.

As Zoha was writing, her pen moved with a crack of laugh. "That's your question? Keep it to yourself. Or say it in your dreams."

Hoorain once again got close to Zoha's side, while feigned her focus at the board. "Every time when he comes to the class, he doesn't seem like a professor. But instead a higher ranking businessman. Didn't you ever think that?"

"No." Straight answer. "You ask why?"

"Kyun?"

"Because I don't look at him like you. Keep a distance. Don't look at him like he is your fiancé."

"Why not?" Hoorain mischievously posed the questions.

"Do you want me to go up there and tell him about it?"

Hoorain slapped Zoha's hand. And Zoha flinched in pang of pain. "Ow."

"Sorry did I hurt you bad?" Hoorain realized very soon and looked at her slapped hand, regretting the small red mark on the finger.

"Thanks for caring." Zoha snatched her hand back to herself.

They didn't talk much then, since lecture took place. The lights were later switched off to show the images on the projector. Professor Zulfiqar's silhouette moved back and forth across the image, explaining the details and arrowing the captions. The students asked questions with concern or either interest that grew within them. One time Hoorain even asked a question. Zoha was afraid if something absurd would come out of her mouth. She could imagine Hoorain falling into the awkward stupidity.

Later in the day when it was lunch break, Zoha and Hoorain walked together to the library.

"I just love it when he lectures. It's so tempting to hear his every word." Hoorain dreamily looked; lost in her fantasy.

"What's wrong with you?" Zoha gave a look.

"You won't understand."

"Does it say stupid on my face?" Zoha circled her finger around the face in the air. "I understand everything. Stop acting like those mad girls." She laughed in the end.

"Come on."

They entered the library through the glass doors. It was absolutely quiet. Some students were standing by the shelves while the others sat at the carrels, studying hard for the upcoming exams. Zoha and Hoorain strolled to the shelf and commenced to hunt for the books.

"Yaar, the exams are so near. Now all the time will be in studying," Hoorain said.

"You know what I realized? I should have told dadi to clean up the study room. Extra clean. She was just talking about it this morning."

"Your Saliha bari ammi said something?

"No. She is really nice. She can't say anything bad to me. As much as she is Manal's mummy, she is mine too. I have seen her since my childhood. I was just saying because of the exams."

"You are lucky to have her as your aunt. You don't know how people are selfish in the world. They only care about themselves."

"Tell me, have you been reading novels? And learned from that?"

"Reality is something too. I know it happens. At last novels are sometimes based on writer's experience too. Are you reading one?"

"Yeah one."

Zoha lifted her heels to reach high for the book on the top shelf. Her fingers played at the verge of pulling it out, and as it slowly wiggled out of the spot, she lost control on her toes and the book went falling on the floor from the height.

"Are you okay?" Hoorain looked surprised.

Zoha slid the dupatta around the neck and clasped it back as she bent down to pick the book. "I am okay. These insane people stack the books so high, so one might fall reaching for it. Not everyone is six feet."

"Hana? Patanahi itna uncha kyun rakhtay hain? Wonder what the librarian might say on the way out. 'Be careful next time girls. There are people busy in their work and don't want to be disturbed' ." Hoorain imitated in librarian lady's voice.

"Really?"

"Don't you know?"

"I know, kind of. Let's get out before there is any fuss. Chalo Aunty." Zoha teased.

They chose the book and got them scanned at the counter. Luckily, the counter lady did not say anything. And they left as soon as possible.

The day went by smooth and easy. Hoorain made it even fine with her taste of humor. They had two more classes together, but often met each other on the way as they shuffled around on their schedule.

Zoha became friends with Hoorain in second grade. Back then, Hoorain was very shy and unsociable. She sat alone in lunch while other kids played with each other. Zoha, a chubby and small, approached Hoorain one time. They did not get along at first, but after a year together and when in the third grade they got same classes again, Hoorain's aloofness thawed and she was more friendly with Zoha. After they passed tenth grade, they got selected by the same university, because it would have been a punishment to split their strong friendship. They were lucky to still be together after college.

At the end of the day, Zoha met Hoorain at the courtyard, waiting for her to come.

"Who will come to pick you up?" Zoha asked, walking along with her to the gate of the university. The sunshine was directly flashing their face, until they crossed the shade of the swaying trees. And hot wind began to blow.

Hoorain put a hand on her kurti in the bottom from blowing. "Abu said he would be coming. Let me call him." She pulled out the phone from the side pocket of her jeans. She punched in the number and the started to ring. "Hello. Abu?"

As she informed her father to pick her up, Zoha called Saliha to send Sajjid. When she dismissed the call, they continued walking to the rest of the way.

"What did he say?" Zoha asked, unlikely concerned. She sheltered her eyes from the brilliant shine.

"Abu is at the mechanic. He gave his car for repairing. Wonder how long it will take." Hoorain glanced at the wrist watch.

"If you want I can drop you to your house. Sajjid baba will be here at any second. I don't want you waiting alone."

"But-"

"Inform your Abu that my driver is dropping you."

"No thanks. I am totally okay without it." Zoha glimpsed at Hoorain.

It was exactly three-thirty when the white Honda Civic parked across the street. Sajjid was sitting inside gesturing them to come in. Zoha let Hoorain in first and herself scooted in after her. Then thumped the door close.

*******************

When Zoha checked in the room, she found dadi dozing. The sound of snoring murmured in the quiet place.

She walked in and used the bathroom. It was a hot, humid day that sweat nearly popped on her fair skin. She could still feel the heat in her body, reminiscing the time when she was standing outside the college. After splashing the water on her face, she did wuzu for zuhr. It took twenty minutes to pray, and then when she was done she headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Saliha was already there preparing the vegetables.

As Zoha entered in, she said, "Assalamualaikum, Bari ammi." And went on acquiring the glass to drink water.

"Walaikum-Salam. How was your day?" Saliha spoke happil"Acha tha. Isn't it so hot today?"

"Unfortunately it is. It's been three-fifty and Manal hasn't come home yet." She looked rather indifferent as she was used to Manal's late coming home. But as a mother she still called the worry.

Zoha pulled out the chair and sat drinking water. When she looked up from drinking, Saliha's eyes were fixed on her. "Did you call her?" she said.

"Nahi kiya abhi. I will be." A pause held. "Are you free today to try out something?"

"Cooking?"

Saliha nodded with an optimistic smile.

"I went for grocery and guess what I found at the store?" She sauntered over to the other counter and grabbed a thin paperback book. It had a picture of biryani, fresh and sumptuous on the white plate. "A new recipe book in the market. It has the recipes that we see on TV."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Check them out." Saliha offered the book.

Zoha got up and received it. She paged through, scrolling her vision up and down at the text along with images of tempting dishes. It was in some way colorful because of the toppings on the curries and sprinkled things on yellow rice.