(Name change. Original name: The Bad Girl)
Anaisha Singhaniya was St. Xavier's most notorious student. She smokes, bullies, wears short clothes, gets just passing grades, and even rides her own bike. But she mostly stays aloof with her gang and alwa...
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Anaisha slept well until her alarm clock broke her slumber. She got up and the first thing she did was check the mailbox outside the apartment. A small smile appeared on her face upon seeing an envelope. It was an acceptance letter from Tiskata. She was hired as a consultant there and from next Monday, she would be joining.
After freshening up, she got dressed in a lemon green Kurtha and trousers with a white sequin dupatta. She did her hair in a downturned low bun and then put on some subtle make-up.
Hasan opened the door, at the same time Anaisha also opened her door. He stilled upon seeing her. For a fleeting moment he thought she has dressed up to come with him, but he didn't want to keep his hope high. Perhaps, she was going elsewhere.
Anaisha cleared her throat, pushing aside the random hair strands framing her oval face, - "What is it that you wanted to share with me?" She sounded slightly stern. Hasan didn't mind her tone, she was disturbed.
"Come with me." Hasan led her and she followed him without further questions. Anaisha sat in the passenger seat of his red beetle car. She wasn't judging him neither did he mind. They sat silently as Hasan drove them. Anaisha was surprised as he stopped in front of a mosque complex. He stepped out and asked her too as well.
"Where are you ta—"
"Shh—" Hasan whispered, and she quietened. He walked confidently to the building next to the mosque. A bearded man in ivory Kurtha pajama stood at the entrance with few kids in similar attire. He had a skullcap and beads in his hands.
Anaisha placed her dupatta over her head as the two men greeted each other and shared a warm hug.
"Maulana Saheb, I hope to like every time, even this year the money was enough for a feast for these kids," Hasan asked looking around at the gleeful kids.
Maulana Saheb chuckled, - "More than enough, Hasan beta. These madrassa kids are always so delighted for the feast you throw for them."
Hasan nodded. Maulana Saheb's gaze fell on Anaisha, she just stood there and blinked at him. He looked away without a word. She watched him walk away until Hasan asked her to come with him. Clueless, she followed. Adjacent to the Madrassa, there was a gloomy-looking place with Urdu written on the semi-circle board over the entrance. Hasan brought a packet of rose petals from a small stall.
Anaisha felt a small weight over her heart as she followed him. There were graves as far as eyes could see. She gulped, feeling the eeriness and stillness of the place. There were few men scattered here and there, standing at the graves of their loved ones. She noticed she was the only female here. This was the first time; she was visiting a graveyard and the feeling of uncomfortableness was real.
Hasan stopped at the gravestone, she looked at the gravestone from behind him. There was a name, date of birth, and day of death inscribed in Urdu. Anaisha obviously couldn't read it.
