Nazakat.
A beautiful word derived from the language of Urdu. It holds several meanings of delicateness, frailness, and finesse.
But the meaning I choose to go with is elegance.
Because nazakat is the most elegant of them all.
I invite you to take a...
Exhausted from the day's events, we decided to have a pretty late-night dinner at around 11:30 in the night and headed straight to Mountain Cup cafe.
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The place oozed ambiance and beauty; just what we needed after an exhausting day; jumping around from bridges to boats.
Okay well, that would just be me, but then again, at least I wasn't a buddhi rooh, unlike everyone else in my family.
Plopping my backpack in one of the chairs near the window, I slumped on the hard, worked chair and closed my stinging eyes.
"Look at you, lying down as if you just finished digging up a grave," Abbu commented, laughing at my tired self. Not having the strength to retort back, I hummed silently, my arm still resting on my tired eyes.
"Bandariyon ki tarha uchalti rehay gi to yahi haal hoga na Abbu." Failing the urge to ignore the asshat of a brother I was blessed with, my bloodshot eyes shot open, the retort right on my lips when I heard Ammi chip in.
"Kia tum dono baap beta meri piyari si beti kai peechay hath dho kai parh gaye ho. Shoo away."
A soft smile adorned my face as I slumped back into my seat. Ah, meri piyari si ammi.
"Ammi, you just take her side unnecessarily. Just because she's a 'girl'."
"Beta agar tum bhi aik 'girl' hotay na, us waqt bhi tumhari harkatain is kabil nahi hoti kai mai tumhari side leti."
Abbu and I hollered; Ammi reclined back in her seat and flipped through the menu page with a smug look on her face, while the victim in question grumbled something about the unfairness of the situation.
Sitting up, I too snatched a menu and started flipping through the pages tiredly. Telling Abbu my order to pass onto the waiter whenever he came, I gazed outside the window at the marvelous hills that were laced with a zealous green. A never-ending sea of poplar trees covered the grounds as far as the eye could wander. The hills were draped in a blanket of darkness, the only light coming from the lanterns hung in the wilderness—their bright lights illuminating the green of the wilderness.
My eyes took in as much as they could of the scenery, while Ammi, Abbu, and Zain served as background chatter. The cafe was pretty empty this time of the hour, except for a few tourist families such as ours hoarding some of the tables. Sitting like this in a foreign city, with foreign people, in a remote cafe, basking under its warm lights; my thoughts drifted back to my life back in Islamabad. So much had happened there in the silents nights of Islamabad—unnecessary drama from unnecessary people. Guaranteed, the semester back after this summer break was going to be awkward as hell. Not only that, I don't really believe that* zaleel excuse of a man Daniyal Shah will just let the matter go—it's not as if Waleed's his dad or something that he just shuts up and obeys his orders like a pet.
