The dream which came to her before too many days ago when dadi was alive.

The feel of that touch squirmed in her skin. She lightly rubbed the sides of her arm, warding off the hands. It was very strange for her to have that dream. She could still not decipher the meaning behind it. Every time it happened so fast that she was torn apart from the sleep and her body pounded with fear. She became helpless and scared though it wasn't as bad as dadi's death but there was something about it that made it real.

She didn't know what to do. Her face felt swollen as if she had purple bruises. Her eyes were entangled in the web of sleep, only seeing nebulous and darkness.

She grabbed the dupatta from the pillow and covered her neck and chest with it. Her feet touched the floor and she tried to balance herself, standing. Outside in the living room, she saw a figure sitting on the edge of the sofa, hands raised in prayer. She blinked and cleared her view. It was Yumna. Her heart felt some relief but not enough to throw away that feeling of the dream.

She pulled the door close and sauntered bare feet to her Khala. As Yumna was done praying in the light of dawn, she looked at Zoha, standing, like she had sleepwalked up to her.

"You woke up for namaz?" Yumna asked, softly.

Zoha's lips were frozen. She opened her mouth and a hoarse voice came out. "Khala, I had a bad dream." She sat next to Yumna, their sides brushing against each other.

Yumna put her hand on Zoha's head and said, "it's good that it made you wake up for the fajr so you can pray and bring allah's name on tongue. Go do wudhu."

Zoha got up, reluctantly, and went to Fariqa's room. Fariqa was sleeping deep and tight, surely too tired to wake up. But she should have been awake by now to read namaz. Zoha performed the ablution and toweled her arms and face. She used Fariqa's praying chadar and unrolled the prayer rug on the floor in the northwest direction.

She woke up again, this time for college at seven-thirty. Fariqa was awake before her: full-spirited and invigorated from a long, beautiful sleep. She looked happy and in a talkative mood. Zoha used the bathroom and when she came out, she found Fariqa folding the fleece blanket and neatly placing it at the bottom of the bed.

Fariqa looked up, little surprised and smiled. "I didn't even realize you came to our house."

"Um-yeah," Zoha said. She walked to her luggage and began unzipping it, slightly avoiding to look directly at Fariqa.

"It was good you came back," Fariqa said. "I missed you."

"Really?" Zoha was crouched down, bending forward into the open mouth of luggage.

Fariqa moved on to the bed on which Zoha slept and picked the blanket. She met the corners of it and made a first fold. "Yes. I thought about our moment together very often. The bed next to me felt really empty."

"Baray Abu would had felt bad if I hadn't gone with him."

"Your talking right. He especially came for you." Fariqa exhaled a breath and went to her cupboard. "Did he let you come back here?"

Zoha selected the light-pink shalwar kameez with white dupatta and zipped the luggage. "Baray Abu went back to California. I really miss him. He is the most kindest one in the family."

"Oh. Then what made you come here? I mean I am glad to have you. Just wondering." Fariqa curiously posed the question as she rifled through her hanging clothes.

"Fariqa, where do you keep the iron?" Zoha changed the topic to not remind herself for what happened last night. She wanted to bury that piece of the past, alive, suffocate it so it couldn't breathe and continue her life from the new day.

"Hold on. I will show you. It's little heavy but works really good." Fariqa left the cupboard open and knelt down next to her bed. "Actually I keep my clothes pressed so when I don't need it I put it under the bed." She struggled to reach for the wire and its plug.

"Why under the bed and not somewhere else?" Zoha was watching her.

"Because hot iron can burn other things," she reasoned. "Hai Allah. Patanahi kahan phas gaye."

Until Fariqa took out the iron, Zoha dropped her clothes on bed and pulled out her bag from the luggage.

There was a knock at the door. Yumna poked her head in and saw what the girls were doing. Fariqa finally got the iron out from under the bed and heaved a sigh of irritation like she was digging a hole with shovel.

"Larkiyon, it's getting late," Yumna informed. "Zoha, what do you eat?"

Zoha received the iron from Fariqa's hand. It was bulky, made out of metal and loosely held the long wire which could be plugged into the switchboard across the room.

"I eat scrabble egg and roti," Zoha said.

"Acha sahi hai. And hurry up girls. Then it will be hard to find the taxi."

"Ammi, I am ready. My clothes are pressed." Fariqa went to her cupboard and took out her clothes. "I will wear the clothes and come out in a snap."

"Khala, I have to press my clothes. It will not take me that long."

Yumna opened the door wider and slipped in. "I will do it for you."

"Khala, you have so many things to do. It's okay I will do it."

"Beta, it's not a problem for me. Most important thing is to get to college on time. Give me I will do it for you." Yumna forced to do it for her. Then Zoha didn't object and submitted the clothes to her.

Later, Fariqa came out dressed and combed her tangled hair. After making a bun, she wore the black pashmina scarf on her head and skillfully wrapped it around. Yumna had pressed Zoha's clothes so she changed too and quickly fixed her hair, throwing glances at the clock on the wall.

"Today I am totally not going to find taxi. Especially when it's getting late," Fariqa said. "I hope there is no traffic on the way. By the way, what's your time?"

Zoha wore the dupatta on her head and pinned it so it wouldn't blow away and nag her to keep fixing it. "Eight thirty."

"You still have time. I don't think I will be able to eat breakfast." Fariqa fetched the bag and slung it on her shoulder. She seemed to be in ever more hurry. "I am gonna go now. Allahhafiz."

"Allahhafiz."

Fariqa deserted the room and Zoha stood looking herself in the mirror. Her face appeared sallow and calm. Her lips which once shone with happiness, were faded and gray as if she was dehydrated. She barely applied any make up: no lipstick, no lipgloss, nor light eyeshadow. She stayed simple and plain in comparison to those who wore layers of foundation, eyelashes curled and thickened with mascara, lips striking and sparkling, gaining attraction from the people on the streets.

Being herself and doing what she liked made her happy, though it rarely showed. She surveyed her clothes in the mirror and then picked her bag from the floor.

Zoha noticed the grayish, smoky clouds as she stepped out of the building. She unexpected the rain because in the morning the sky was pellucid blue. The capricious weather surprised her. Sajjid was no longer coming to pick her up. Now she had to go herself: find taxi on the bustling road and tell the driver the home address. It was unusual for her. The life seemed little awkward without the convenience of pick and drop. It made her feel like she was begging to people, vulnerable.

Hoorain stood next to her, gazing skyward. She seemed to worry about how she would go home just like Zoha.

"From all of a sudden where did this rain start dropping?" Hoorain said, irritated. "If I knew I would have at least brought the umbrella."

"Do you know how your going home?" Zoha asked with a troubled expression. She held her sling bag tight against her side and clutched the textbook in her hand.

"I am seriously confused about what to do." Hoorain pulled out her phone from the bag pocked and began dialing the number, memorized by heart. "I will see if Abu is gonna come." She sticked the phone against her ear. The rain started pouring heavily, blinding the view. They both rushed under the shelter of the building.

"Yaar, now this had to happen." Hoorain got cranky. The call was going engaged. "Now what?"

"Maybe we can wait. Little bit. Then see if the condition gets better," Zoha said. It seemed as if buckets of water were dumped on them from the sky. Each five minute it got worse. There was nothing much they could do, beside waiting, which Hoorain couldn't.

"Does it look like it will stop anytime soon?"

"Baba just wait and see." Zoha was getting tired of Hoorain's restlessness. "If it doesn't stop then we will catch the taxi." She gave her hope to calm her down.

"You know what?" Hoorain said. "One way it's better it rained. Because it has been really hot. At least it will get cooler."

"Shukr." Zoha said under the breath.

"Shukr kis baat kay liye?" Hoorain had heard her.

"Nothing."

"It's like living in a hell when it doesn't rain." Hoorain sticked out her hand to feel the rain. It didn't take a second for her forearm to get soaked.

"My poor Khala doesn't have AC. I am always hot." Zoha didn't mean to be rude by saying that. She could never say anything bad to Khala. "Maybe now Fariqa's room will be cooler now."

"I go through that all the time," Hoorain said, looking out at the rain, serene.

Zoha didn't comment on that.

"Let's go." Hoorain pulled Zoha from under the shelter, making her wet and getting herself wet too. "Kitna pyara sama hai. It's boring standing and waiting. Instead of letting go of the beautiful weather. Let's enjoy. We don't meet this weather very often in a year."

"Hoorain, what are you doing?" Zoha started shielding herself from the rain. "My book is getting wet. You know how important it is to me." She could barely open her eyes.

"Sometimes you should forget the studies and do what your heart says. Come on man. What a beautiful moment Allah has blessed on us."

"You pulled me all of a sudden. Then what do you expect?" In the heavy downpour, Zoha and Hoorain were dripping. Zoha was highly worried about her things. Her assignments and notes. How would she be able to study with ink blotched papers. "You didn't even give me a chance."

"Now nothing can't be done. We are drenched."

Zoha tried to pull away from Hoorain's grasp but Hoorain had held on her tight.

"And you are so happy to get wet," Zoha teased.

"Of course." Hoorain chuckled and tugged Zoha along with her. "I can just go home in this. I will say to ammi I couldn't find the taxi and abu's phone is already going on engaged."

"You are very naughty and clever." Now Zoha was tired of covering her head, so she dropped her hand on her side and accepted that nothing could happen.

They ended up being at the sidewalk before stepping on to the road. Cars and motorbikes were congregating, moving like tortoise in the chaos. Honking and peep peep sound tensed the crazy moment. Everyone seemed to be in a rush, finding cheap shortcuts to get past the traffic but everywhere was jammed. Wind gusted, swaying the trees. Pedestrians ran, soaked, ducking their heads like they could be better protected from the fury of the weather.

"Do you want to go in the rickshaw?" Hoorain gave an idea. "Seeing the mess on the street it seems like we are never gonna be able to reach home."

"Hai hai. Don't say that," Zoha said. "Always say good things. You may never know what you said would come true."

"You know I didn't mean that," Hoorain said, half worried. "How do you think we should go home? Now I think rickshaw is little dangerous."

"I hope we at least find a transportation."

"Let me try calling Abu again. Maybe he picks up this time." Hoorain rummaged the phone out of her bag and redialed the number. The ring was going but there was no response. She waited, hoping her Abu picked up.

Zoha looked at her, praying that someone could come to pick them. She was intensely missing Sajjid. She wished he didn't leave her the last time he came to drop her. It was awful without him. Things were getting worse than she thought.

"What happened?" Zoha asked.

"Yaar." Hoorain sounded hopeless, pressing end call. "I don't know why Abu is not receiving the call. What do we do now?" She didn't look like the girl who pulled Zoha out in the rain and spoke and acted childishly.

"Let's find a taxi."

"Do you have enough money?"

Even if Zoha had money, the bills would have been wet, in the least condition of paying someone.

"No."

"What a great thing happened. No option beside standing like idiots and praying Allah to send someone to help us."

"Let's try walking as far as we can. I know this idea is not the greatest idea. But it's worth it."

Zoha's dupatta turned see-through, showing her dark hair underneath.

"And we have nothing else to do beside it."

They watchfully walked on the sidewalk, which was glistening, reflected with traffic lights. Zoha clasped on Hoorain's hand in case if she slipped. The somber sky spelled anxiety in her. She was never in this type of situation before. Bad ideas popped in her mind like what if she got lost and never found their way home. Never was little impossible. But she dreaded the likelihood. She knew Yumna khala's home address and remembered how it went. But what about Hoorain? How would she go in rain alone if Zoha's house came first?

They jaywalked after the end of the block. Traffic barely moved. It was better for them to easily cross the road. Hoorain clasped Zoha's hand and looked on both sides in case if some motorbike was coming.

"Allah karay baarish thora rukh jaye," Zoha said.

"In Shaa Allah."

They passed by the white car. The driver inside was invisible to them. Zoha felt dumb going in front of the cars. It was humiliating. She avoided looking at people as she walked past them. Some guys stared nastily at her. She covered the side of her face from confronting the bad looks. Disgusting. She feared what was going on their minds. She held Hoorain's hand taut.

"We are badly stuck," she said.

"I know," Hoorain said. She was the brave one to Zoha and that's why Zoha relied on her getting her home. "What a bad luck. Ammi must be worried. But it's not only my fault. I contacted Abu many times. If he is not picking up then I can't do anything about it."

Zoha's brows furrowed in concern. "I hope we get home safely."

"We will. Stop scaring me, Zoha."

"Okay okay. Sorry."

At last they made it home, fighting the turmoil. Zoha didn't touch the bell because it could give her electric shock. She banged at the blanch gate and Hoorain began to leave. But Zoha stopped her.

"Where are you going?" Zoha said. "I mean I know home. But you are seeing this? Stay here in Khala's house."

Thunder clapped. Zoha shook in terror. She felt her arm hair stand upright.

"No, yaar," Hoorain said. "It will get late. Ammi will be waiting." She wore the worry.

"It's okay. You can call your ammi from landline."

Hoorain thought. "But- we don't even know when rain will stop. It will be continuing throughout the night."

Fariqa opened the gate. She had black colored umbrella on her head.

"Come in for a while," Zoha insisted. Then Hoorain agreed to stay over.

They went inside, leading a wet trail behind them. Yumna was watching the news channel on tv. As she saw Zoha and Hoorain, she got up, muting the volume.

"Shukr hay tum aa gaye," she said. Her eyes drifted from Zoha to Hoorain.

"Asslamlaikum, aunty," Hoorain greeted.

"Walaikum-Salam, beta. You are Zoha's friend?"

"Jee, Khala," Zoha said. "She is here until the rain stops."

"Yes yes. Good that you came along," Yumna said.

Hoorain stood, hesitated to sit. Her wet clothes could soak into cushions on sofa.

"Beta, feel like home."

"Jee, aunty," Hoorain said, giving a short smile.

Zoha went in Fariqa's room and dropped the hefty bag on the floor. Her left shoulder was hurting from the weight. She took out her dry pair of clothes from the luggage and thought to iron them. In that, Fariqa came in the room too.

"Did you girls walk home" Fariqa asked, curiously.

"Yeah. We couldn't find taxi."

"Oh."

"How about you? When did you come home?"

There was a tiny pause before Fariqa replied. "In bus. Majboori."

"I can understand. As I was coming too, weird people were staring at me. They have no manners at all."

"Exactly. That's why ammi doesn't allow me to come in public buses. When I told her she was not much happy."

Zoha spread her brown kameez on the bed and ran the hot iron over it, sweeping the crinkles. She was slowly getting used to Yumna's house style of doing things.

"Me and my friend had to cross road through traffic."

Fariqa was sitting on bed, leaning backwards on her hands. "What's her name?"

"Hoorain."

"You met her in college?"

"No. We have been friends since elementary. She is my best friend."

Fariqa's eyebrows were raised in surprise. "Wow. Very old friend. Unbelievable."

"We always do everything together. Know each other's every secret." Zoha smiled while ironing the sleeves. She had to hunch forward, bearing the pain in her back.

"That's a very deep and strong relationship. Mashallah your friendship lasts forever."

"Zaroor."

As Zoha was done ironing her clothes, she went to the bathroom and changed. She brought her drenched clothes out and asked Fariqa where she could hang them to dry. Fariqa said Zoha could hook them in the bathroom. After the rain stop she could take them on the roof, hopefully if the sun came out.

Zoha went out in the living room, feeling bad that she left Hoorain alone. Yumna was in the kitchen.

"Sorry I was changing," Zoha said. "Do you want to change? You know our size is same."

Hoorain rose from the chair. "Actually I have to call ammi."

Zoha palmed her temple. "I forgot. Sorry. Tell me the number. I will dial it." She picked the phone from the cradle and waited for Hoorain to tell her the number.

Hoorain took the phone from Zoha's hand and spoke to her mother. She tried to contend her that she was safe at Zoha's khala's house. She could leave as soon as the rain stopped.

"What did she say?" Zoha asked as Hoorain gave her the phone.

"She said she will send Abu. He is out right now. When he comes back he will call for the address."

"Okay, that's good." Zoha put the phone away. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"Yes, please."

Hoorain and Zoha spoke formally since they were not alone. It was awkward for them to talk in bounded zone.