The car wove through the heavy traffic at the pace of a tortoise. Everyone was out of their homes going in every direction. Motorcycles whizzed through the tiny spaces between the heavy traffic, risking their lives for momentary happiness. Traffic wardens were at work, their whistles sounded every now and then. The pens inside their hand moved at fast speeds as they wrote down slips for the citizens that had decided to not abide the law. White street lights kept the heavy canal road from falling into a deep thicket of darkness, trees older than the country itself towering over the man made canal.
Zaara sighed, her fists rolled tight as she cursed her fate. Her three female cousins, Areej, Zainab and Zuneirah had claimed the pull out seats that were in the boot of the car, sitting with their legs spread our thanks to the ample leg room. Aurangzeb, the eldest of the bunch was driving the car with Humayun seated in the passenger seat. She had been forced to squeeze into the little space left after Rafay, Aman and Zafar felt comfortable. Her ribs were pushed against the door that kept biting into her soft skin — a bruise would be left in their wake she was sure.
Her hands itched to push Rafay's leg that rubbed against hers every now and then. The ceaseless chatter amongst the occupants of the car flew like a soft breeze, leaving her feeling left out, more than she ever had. Thin metal bangles that were almost always sliding on her wrists made soft bell like sounds as she pushed a stray lock of caramel hair behind her ear. Biting into flesh of her lower lip, her fingers fiddled with the zip of her handbag. Annoyance and impatience filled her being in the wait for the car to arrive at its destination.
An upbeat song played in the background, it's treble and bass playing with the strings of her heart. Her head throbbed with pain, the car finally whizzing past the signboards passing through underpasses before Aurangzeb finally steered the car towards the old food street. Her mouth watered as she waited in anticipation to taste the crisp shells filled with tamarind sauce and chickpeas to collide against the walls of her mouth. It had been far too long since she last had them — which her brain reprimanded was a lie, her father had gotten her gol gappe last week. In retrospect, any day without having munched on them was too long.
"Hey! Hey guys! There is another person in the car with us too!" Humayun cleared his throat, lowering the volume.
Zaara rolled her eyes at his almost taunting words, she still wondered why he had not turned out like his mother who was a gentle woman. She pinched the inside of her palms, keep calm. Deep breaths. Inhale and exhale, the soft voice of her father filled her mind. Shadows were cast on her face as they moved through the dimly lit roads. Her deep brown eyes looked even more expressive than they were usually, a sheen of water covering them. Were the tears? Rafay thought to himself, to shy to voice his claims.
"Of course Humayun. Let's interrogate our beloved Araa!" Areej nodded.
Araa, her nickname that her grand father used to call her. Up until last year when he was taken into the holds of a paralysis attack, leaving him bed ridden for most of the days. Gone was the usual, lively Burhaan Aleem Khawar, a man who once stood with his back as straight as an iron rod — now cowered on a wheel chair, a thin blanket on his legs as his grandchildren and children alike lived their lives in front of his eyes.
"Don't call me that". Zaara murmed with a strict voice.
"Oh but why Araa?" Rafay spoke, mimicking her voice.
"Because—"
"Because you don't deserve that liberty!" The rest of them completed that phrase for her.
