The Flying Dreams

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

My classes were increased as exams approached. Most of my time was spent inside the lab or in the library and at home, Shifa made no disturbance and often offered me tea in the room and never forgot to bring something sweet with the tea. She would come in with slow, silent steps, careful to not make any noise and place the tray on my bed without a word and I couldn't be more thankful for the gesture. Tea and eating sweet always helped me revise better and her taking care of the matter stroked a deeper string in my heart than I was willing to accept. The action had happened enough times that whenever I drank tea, my mind was filled with Shifa's face. A little annoying since this somehow ended up distracting me from my studies but still welcome. Although ever since she told me about her sexuality, I had started to notice her fluctuating behaviour toward me. Sometimes she shamelessly flirted, joking around and most of the time, she tried to avoid being in my company. That had not been the case before the incident, and I wondered if I had done anything to shift her opinion. Usually, I would have given the thought more time but the fast-approaching date of my exams didn't allow me to and casting aside her weirdness, I put all my focus on my studies. It was far much more difficult of a task than I had anticipated since Shifa lived in the same place and we shared our meals.

My mother video called when I was taking an online lecture on the narrow balcony. The sun was dim but warm and I had a cup of tea grasped between my palms. It was a comfortable Sunday morning, and all I wished after completely the laundry work early, was to revise under the sunlight and have tea but of course, my mother might have read my mind and called.

"Assalam ailikum, ummi. How are you?"

My mother was bare head and thus alone in home. I had a few guesses about what I was going to receive but nothing prepared me for her next words.

"Yes, yes. Waalaikumussalam. Jihan's wedding date is fixed. 20th of next month and guess what, my jan?"

The excitement was written all over her face and my heart sunk before she even told me what the good news was.

"Wahab's parents and your abbu decided to arrange your wedding too,", she moved her hand in front of her face as if an annoying mosquito wouldn't leave her alone, "Obviously not on the same day, but the next date after Jihan's wedding. 21st of March, isn't it amazing? I was so worried about Wahab slipping away from our fingers. You could not get a better husband, Adia. He is truly the best guy for anyone, and I am glad that Allah had listened to my prayers, and he chose you to be his wife."

I could try and explain what I felt but the words wouldn't do the feeling justice. My heartbeat threatened to burst through my chest and suddenly, I wanted to sleep and never wake up again. It wouldn't have mattered if I never got to see myself become a doctor but marrying Wahab seemed to be a golden cage. I would be comfortable with him; I knew that much. Wahab was an excellent man and a worthy husband, but I wouldn't be happy. In most romantic Bollywood movies, the heroin closed her eyes and decided whom she loved based on the formed picture behind her eyelids and as I stared at ummi's face, I did the same. Ignoring her calls and closed my eyes. There wasn't a particular face of anyone but the memories I had made in the span of a few months flashed before me like a movie, all colourful and in slow motion. I saw Divya and Rohan, arguing about the best Pokémon in the lecture hall and Vivek stealing glances at Rohan's Tinder. All three of them standing on the college ground, waiting for me and Divya, lamenting about the practical in lab. Shifa and I were in the kitchen talking about some of our cousins and then her face was full of enthusiasm over movies.

And Wahab scolding me for going out to see a museum.

"But I still haven't completed my—"

"Adia! That would take years, do you believe you can hold off Wahab for so long? And even if you can, what about his parents? You could continue your studies after. Talk to Wahab."

It seemed to me that my reaction was not what my mother had hoped for and with a rushed bye, she hung up and I stayed rooted on my foot. Dully mulling over if I should have called her back as she looked rather strained after I refused to share her zing. The tea's warmth no longer felt comforting, and the sunrays faded. Too dramatic but true. Getting married had been my dream ever since I learned the meaning of the word and Zoya and I often arranged wedding ceremonies for our dolls, thus I couldn't understand the sudden distaste for the word and before anything else cooked inside my brain, my phone rang again. Without waiting for a second ring, I picked up Wahab's call. Though, I knew I might end up disappointing him too with my lack of excitement, but letting him wait appeared too much of a risk.

"Adia! Have you heard from ummi jan?"

The sun had completely disappeared behind the heavy grey clouds, and I stared at the road below. The traffic mostly remained less in the neighbourhood and only a few cars passed by but the group of students with their colourful bags hanging from their backs made too much noise, with laughter and talking. I tried to pay attention to Wahab.

"Yes. She called me just a minute ago."

Wahab chuckled, a breathy and small sound, "Well, she stole my surprise. I was thinking since you're already in Delhi, why don't I visit and you can buy the wedding lehenga of your choice and I'll match my sherwani's colour with it, huh?"

When I spoke, my voice broke and I had to move my phone away for a second and take a deep breath, "Of course. I'd love that."

"I knew you would! Okay but first thing first, when is your last exam? I need you to be on a free schedule so I can show you around."

Shifa shouted from the kitchen, asking if I wanted jalebis and that was the final blow. My eyes burned, my throat closed with a painful knot and an odd exhale escaped through my nose. The tears that followed were unstoppable and I surpassed my sobs, so Wahab didn't hear, I rushed to answer him and make some excuse before I broke down completely.

"15th. I have to go now, talk to you later."

And for once in the 8 months of our engagement, I heard him say, a tender touch to his voice, "Okay. I love you."

I hurriedly pressed the red button and doubled over the iron railing and tried not to make too much noise. Pressing my palms over my mouth and keeping my eyes wide open to stop the tears, I stayed there for a minute and my eyes fell on a couple of students hanging around a tea stall, laughing and moving around their hands. I couldn't hold back the next sob and with that Shifa's soft voice came too. She must have walked in to ask if I wanted jalebis and I did not turn to face her. I couldn't. Not when my whole life was starting to resemble a child's old, broken toy—not working anymore but still kept on the shelf for nostalgia and for memories attached to it.

"Adia? Are you okay?"

Could she not see that I was not? I hoped my silence will drive her out of my space but the longer I held onto my sobs, the more my chest hurt and the more her presence bothered me. As soon as a small, trembling breath pushed through my lips, two arms snaked around my shoulders and held my hands on the cold railing. Shifa's fingers lay above mine and without any intention, my body leaned back onto her, and my head rested on her collarbone. She kept repeating words, "It'll be okay." And I wondered if she knew what she was talking about. Because, of course, it will never be okay ever again, but I let her meaningless words pass on my head and hoped that when I see Wahab, I'll forget all about my life there which I had built without deliberate choice.