Complications of Heart

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"Khudaya! Will you stop fidgeting?" shrieked Ali for the umpteenth time.

Well can't blame the man, but won't be agreeing to him as well.

"You wouldn't know what I am going through." I fired back.

"Well, you won't have IF you had agreed back then." Ok, Rabeya has good comebacks. I mean she always had the right words, being the "Mama" of our squad. But now, was not the time.

"I know." clutching my head, I curled deep into the leather seat of the jeep as we made our way to Kashmir. The wee hours of the day were setting up a foggy blanket on the road as Ali maneuvered his way. Moreover, add the flight hours from London and rushing with swollen eyes in the middle of the night to Rabeya. The only sane person of our group, well the second and last sane person of our group.

"Hey, sweetie. Don't be sad." Rabeya spoke softly while caressing her 5-month old bump. From the day I met her, I knew she would be a great mother.

"Yeah. Upar wala floor toh pehle sehi khali tha tumhara. So don't cry. We understand." Ali injected.

(You didn't have a brain, to begin with.)

"Ali!" and the said man was smacked in the head as I smirked while blowing up the piles of tissue.

"Jaan!" A glare from his Jaan and Ali Sahib shut his trap. Oh, sweet joy!

"And Samreen, khuda ke waaste, stop with your smirking!" Rabeya jilted both of us as she shifted to a more comfortable position. Bringing her along was a big "No!" from both Ali and me; however, she didn't "trust you, kids, at all." Her words, I swear.

So yes, you are confused. Let me give you the introduction. I am Samreen Waheed, a simple Pakistani woman who has been on a run for the last 10 hours, to catch her train.

Yes, train. 

Glossary: 

1. Khudaya- Oh God! 

2. Jaan- An endearment. Literal meaning "life"

3. Sahib- Mister

4. Khuda ke waaste- For God's sake!