calling her, Zoha it's getting late. Hurry up. I have to tell Rumina to get your breakfast ready. Instead of that she was greeted by the empty sight. The sound of dadi reciting Quran and lips mutely moving was the first picture that came to her mind. The sweet smell of hers was alive in the sheets she slept on, and in the chadar which she always draped around her body.

She stroked the soft pillow and breathed in the smell. It was all she ever wished. Staying by her dadi. Then how is it possible? she thought.

Wave of comfort settled in her and she sank in the pillow with facedown. Her nose was pressed against it and her eyes were closed. She could think nothing, but to rest peacefully and abandon all the responsibilities. I don't have any purpose to live. It's gone. I wouldn't be as happy again. I don't want and will never go anywhere.

She wished she could lie there hugging the pillow. Sleeping with dadi's chadar casted her away to the past memories. It all began to rewind in her mind. The sweet, precious moments. For once she felt like the old days would come alive when there were no worries and no sadness.

This time as she thought about everything, no tears came to her eyes. They were dry like sand.

Going to the bathroom, she set her eyes at the reflection of herself in the mirror. Slightly better sleep from last night had subdued her sorrow. The dark rings had faded and the glow of her natural complexion was back. But not crying made her feel unusual. Like she stopped caring about it so fast.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she noticed that it was getting late for university. But it didn't matter to her anymore. She took her own time to dress up and get ready. Then barely eating any breakfast she went to the study room, gathered the books in the cradle of her arm and slung the bag on the left shoulder.

Outside the overcast morning had dulled everything. It made Zoha feel like she was starting her day way too early. In the driveway, looking for Sajjid, she found him napping in his tiny quarter by the gates. He had shifted his spot from the rear quarter to the one in the front, in case Saliha had any work for him and to drop Zoha to university. By the sound of snoring, she concluded that he would be immensely disturbed if she shook him awake. But she had no option. There was no one else to drop her off. Sajjid was the only one who did.

"Sajjid baba?" she called reluctantly.

For a moment there was no response from him. He soundly dozed.

Seeing that, she called again. When he heard it the next time, he came out, startled.

"Oh dear, Zoha," he said, sounding as if he could not believe how he fell asleep at such time.

"Sajjid baba," she said, "I am sorry. I don't know if you realized, I have to go to university." She glanced at the sky. "Weather doesn't seem good. Perhaps it might rain."

"Oh, yes. Let me get my keys." He went inside and rummaged the car keys from the vest- which he mostly wore over shalwar kameez; it was how they dressed in villages.

Sajjid opened the gates and pulled the car out on road. Then went back inside to secure a latch on them.

Zoha slid in the back seat, as Sajjid climbed in the driver's seat, making the thump noise as he closed the door. Shooting a glance in the rearview mirror, he noticed his weary eyes, from the broken sleep. He rubbed them, clearing the haze and injected the key in the ignition.

In the back seat, Zoha fumbled in her bag. She realized she had forgotten to wear the wrist watch that she wore everyday.

"What are you looking for, Zoha beti?" Sajjid asked, as he heard the noise of things colliding in her bag.

Zoha balked. She thought before words escaped her lips, not making sense.

Then she shook her head and said, "nothing. Can we go now?"

"Yes." He gripped the steering wheel, pressing the gas pedal.

"Sajjid baba, I just remembered. Weren't you going to your village this week?" she asked out of blue. Her hands stopped searching and buttoned the bag.

"I was going. But there are a lot of things to take care of here. I have told my sister that she will be seeing me maybe after two months." Folds of depression formed on his tan forehead.

"I am sorry to hear that. If you want I can talk about it with bari ammi." Zoha gave him hope.

"No, no. It's okay. I will go when I get time."

"Are you sure?" Zoha asked. "I don't mind."

"Yes, I am," he said. "Thank you for thinking about me."

Zoha leaned back in her seat and unleashed a sigh.

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

"I will come to drop you today. How does that sound?" Shehryaar told Manal as she was eating her breakfast.

She inclined her brows and looked at Shehryaar in surprise. Swallowing the bite, she said, "really?"

"Yeah. I mean....I don't exactly know the way there, but you can tell me."

He was sitting across from her, in his casual night clothes, flannel pajama and black t-shirt. His fingers crawled over at the surface of the table and lightly drummed, like he was making a beat in his head.

"Do you think you can drive here on the right seat?" Manal asked. "I know it's different over there."

"I think. It isn't as hard. If you are scared, then I will drive slow."

Manal laughed. "I have been on long drives on open roads. And have sped up too. It doesn't matter. Actually it's a lot of fun. Even better with friends."

"Just be careful. Accidents happen," he warned.

"Bhai, why are you afraid? Life is filled with risks. One way or the other. This age doesn't come again. Enjoy as much as you want." She smiled, reckless.

Shehryaar replied back with a smile too. "So get ready. I will go up and get ready too," he said.

Manal sipped some orange juice. "Those look fine," she said, giving look of it doesn't really matter what you wear. "You will be in car the whole. No one will look at you."

Shehryaar paused on his way and turned to look at Manal. "No, thanks. I will change my clothes."

Manal shrugged. "Okay, as you like."

"And what about you, madam? You have been eating for a while now. Are you aware of the time?"

"Yeah. It's eight-forty five," she said it like she still had so much time till her class started.

Shehryaar chuckled. "I didn't tell you to just look at it. Hurry up. I hear mummy coming."

He sped up the stairs to his room.

"I am done eating," Manal said, finishing her orange juice.

Later when Shehryaar changed his clothes and got ready, he came back downstairs and straight headed to the front of the house, where the cars were parked.

"Dang it," he said. "I should have gotten the keys. Now she will be taking an hour."

He waited at the front steps, watching the gate. The place in the morning felt deserted. Above, the sky was cloudy, casting gloom.

"When is she coming?" he murmured under his breath.

Shehryaar wondered, if he should go in and check. But hesitated. After all it was not his worry to get to university on time. He had graduated with bachelor's degree in fine art, and was further planning for Masters. From his school years, he was interested in building his own career and his father's business was supportive of that idea. With no tension about what he would do after graduating, like finding a job to run his house as an older son, he felt liberal with his own choices. There was enough space for him to expand his wings and pursue his dream. Money was out of thought. It wasn't a problem. He believed one could be happy if he chose to do what he loved. Otherwise it was useless. And he gave that credit to his dad. He was the true diligent man, who had given his young age building better life out of financial crisis. He studied hard. Determination and years of perseverance raised his status to what he was now.

Manal hadn't come down. The time was crawling late.

He got up and began heading inside.

"Manal!" he called.

It made him feel like he was talking to the thin air when there was no reply. Dropping his shoulders, he threw a glance on the floor.

Was is she doing? Fashion show? Told me it was fine in pajamas and now she herself is taking forever.

"Manal?" His voice ricocheted around the walls. He looked at his watch. It was past nine.

As he stood there, watching and waiting, his eyes darted over at the sight of study room. He mysteriously looked in as if someone was in there. It was mostly under the use of Zoha.

Beside her, anyone barely even checked in. There were tons of books on the shelves and simple wood furniture.

Reaching at the door of it, he peered in through the wood framed glass. Vacant room stared back at him. The place was in shadows, lack of light due to the curtained windows. It reminded him of the picture of the store, saying at the door, Closed.

He backed away, not seeing anyone. But his eyes were still locked at the inside scene of the room. When he stood at the short distance, a glossy shine of something caught his attention on the floor, just by the door.

It was a small photograph.

This pulled him over. He bent down and picked it up.

Gleaming face of Zoha stood out in the photo with her dadi. She had a childish look, cheeks flushing, pigtails secured by red elastic band, dressed in frock, beady eyes and puckered lips. Dadi in comparison smiled little.

Seeing that, a smile twinkled over Shehryaar's own face. He kept staring at the beautiful picture. It explained Zoha's happy childhood. And her lovely relationship with dadi. There was an unique aspect of the photo that struck him. It connected with his childhood too. When he once came to Pakistan, young, pre-teen, he spent time with dadi too. In the lawn, they played, listened to the stories she told, ate snacks and enjoyed the sunny afternoons and evenings. Usually in summers over the long vacation, he got to spend the best time at home. Then in the end, it made him reluctant to go back to California where he wouldn't find the same excitement as he did with his family.

Saliha made Zafar promise her that he would send her son to Pakistan again. He said he would. But often promises weren't as committed. Because his studies were more important.

Shehryaar wondered, what was this photo doing here on the floor. It belonged to Zoha. He looked around. But instead of her, he found Manal descending the stairs, polished with outgoing look. She didn't notice him by the study room.

Before he called her, he stashed the photo away in his jeans pocket and went over.

"What took you so long? I have been waiting here for the keys. To warm up the car," he added in the end.

"Oh, sorry. Wait." She dug in her bag. "You could have called me."

"If you have heard, I did. Twice. Hurry up."

She handed him the keys and they both headed out to the parked car in the driveway.

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

After Zoha came back home from university, she took a small doze. Saliha checked in once for how she was feeling. How had been her day. A hollow response kept the conversation short. Then she went back to resting.

The only thing that bothered Saliha was, Zoha wasn't eating properly. Empty stomach could weaken her to illness. But then she thought not to insist her so much her and let her do what she felt like. After all she wasn't a little baby, who needed to be looked after.

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

Zoha couldn't stay in the room for longer. The load of assignments had hooked her to the study room. She sat at the desk, unwillingly focusing on the work, trying to get as much done. Pen moved across the lined paper, producing croaked sentences. She was entirely not in the mood of doing this work. But she had no choice. It was due the next day and she couldn't submit it later.

Wiping the bubble of tear from her eyes, she looked at how much she had written. One and other half of the paragraph had covered the page. Just one more paragraph and then there was textbook to read afterwards. She worked faster, despite not feeling well. Then as it was done, she slipped the paper in the folder, and considered the list of assignments on a small paper. Two of them had check mark, meaning they were completed.

Taking a sigh, holding the temples, she decided to have break. And went to drink water. As the cold liquid hit her dry throat, a relief settled in. She felt the small energy running in her body, keeping her awake for the work that was piled up.

Thank goodness.

Then followed the way back to the study room. But in midway, she met Manal, who was coming down the stairs. Zoha looked and moved past her.

"Zoha?" she called from the back.

Zoha turned around. Her eyes met the face.

"Come here for a second," she ordered. And Zoha with slightest doubt walked to her.

Not a word came out of her mouth.

"Why are you not eating?" She folded her arms across the chest and condescendingly watched Zoha.

Zoha knew it was none of Manal's business.

"You know how much mummy is worried. All she has on her tongue is Zoha Zoha Zoha.. I get it that you lost your dadi. In fact, we lost our dadi, too. But we got over it. Pain, sadness, and tragedies are part of life. It doesn't mean we should stop at one place and take it over our heart the whole life." She rolled her eyes, disregarding the sympathy in her tone.

"Manal, do you know what you are saying?" Zoha was shocked.

"I know it sounds a big deal to talk like that. But you have to accept this. Because this is the reality. And I think because of you, mummy is still sad and even more worried. I don't want her to get sick like you."

"Manal?" Zoha couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You know what I was thinking? Why don't you visit your khala of yours... I have no idea what's her name. She might take good care of you. Don't you think? Well it doesn't really matter to me."

There was not even a tad bit of empathy in her words.

"I live here. And I don't tend to bother anyone," Zoha defended. The more she pressed on her words, the more tears burned in her eyes.

"You just don't realize."

"Please-" Zoha was shattered from inside. Right immediately she set back to the study room and slid back in the chair, fighting the sea of tears, which threatened to burst through her tear ducts. She picked up the pen and paged through the textbook as the voice of Manal bounced around in her head, loud and mocking. The hurtful words drilled the line of despondency in her heart.

Did she really say that? Zoha asked herself. How could she? Didn't she love dadi?

She started crying. Stabbed over the wound. Water dripped from her eyes. She closed the textbook and propped her head on it. Voice of Manal in her head dispirited her. Every word that she said was a fresh pain.

She wants me to leave this house? How could she say that? Am I really bothering bari ammi and making her sick?

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

Saliha set the table for dinner. She ordered Rumina to put the plates, glasses, jug of water. And bring the bowl of koftas, and platter of freshly cooked rice- white and hot. The fixture lights were turned on, sprawling a cordial mood.

"Manal!" Saliha called. "Come on, it's dinner time."

Right the second minute, Manal showed up.

"Mummy, we are eating early today?"

"Yeah.. I mean it's time. Dinner is hot off the stove." Saliha pulled out the chair and sat down.

"Bhai is not coming?" Manal looked around.

"I checked with him upstairs earlier. He said he got a call on skype. Some friend from California. Will be coming."

Manal nodded. Pulled out a chair and sank her butt in the cautioned seat. The sumptuous smell filled her nose, making it delighted to taste it after a while it was cooked.

"Why don't you make this often? It's my favorite," Manal said. She extended her hand to reach for the rice spoon.

"It's hard to keep up with everyone's choices. When it comes to my mind I make it. Shehryaar hasn't even demanded for his favorites yet."

"What about that meetha paratha?"

"Should I even count that as a big farmaish? My boy is too generous to demand a list to his mummy," Saliha chuckled.

Manal poured kofta curry over the rice and mixed it altogether.

"I forgot. I haven't even called Zoha. She might want to eat now." Saliha clinked the spoon in her plate and got up.

"Mummy. Why are you after her so much? If she doesn't wanna eat, then leave it. It's choice," Manal said irritatedly. She then considered the frown on Saliha's face.

"Manal, you don't even know what you are saying half of the time." Saliha appeared annoyed. "This is not the right moment to say that. She is not feeling well. Instead of showing sympathy that's what you would say?"

Manal dropped the spoon. She froze, nervous. Her heart pumped faster than ever. She wiped her upper lips where sweat began to accumulate.

"You're always taking her side," she said, averting her eyes.

"And this is not true."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

Manal was blank. She touched the cold steel spoon, gaze lowered.

"Don't waste my time next time," Saliha retorted.

She went to the study room and persisted Zoha to come at the dinner.

"Bari ammi, you don't have to wait for me. It might take me an hour more," Zoha said, indirectly looking at Saliha to evade showing her puffy eyes.

Saliha came forth and gliding the hand over the surface of the desk, she sprawled her gaze at her. "How are you able to focus on work like this? Leave it. You are coming with me."

Zoha trembled. She didn't want to face anyone at the table. Guilt inflated her chest. How would I meet my eyes?

"I promise I will eat something after I am done."

"Why not now? You know it feels empty at the table. Shehryaar hasn't come either. Me and Manal are..."

Zoha considered, she also didn't want to bother Saliha, as after how much she had insisted. It would start to have a bad impression on her.

Closing the textbook, tucking the pen in between, she rose from the chair.

"Good," Saliha said at Zoha's decision.

Zoha kept her gaze lower. She fixed the dupatta and shoved in the chair.

"We aren't a big family. And even then if half of the members don't eat together. It makes me sad," Saliha said.

Suspicion about what Manal said earlier made Zoha nervous. At last she wanted Saliha to be happy and prove Manal wrong. Because Saliha was like a second mother after her own. And making the mother upset was the worst she thought. She avoided to do anything that would hurt her or bother at the slightest degree.

"Sorry, bari ammi. I never meant that."

Saliha escorted her to the dining room and was instantly surprised.

"Now where did this girl go?"

Manal was gone.

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