[ A A S H N A ]
The clinking of plates and vessels among each other echoed in the hall. Ammi's hands were trained adequately to hand the bowls and put in another spoon of soup to nearly empty dishes. The dining table was still mum in addition to the loud chewing sound of my brother, Sameer who loves to aggravate the youngest sibling of mine - Sehar.
Even though the gap between the three of us is a year, then too that didn't prevent them from being Tom and Jerry of this house.
Abbu silently ate his dinner until he cleared his throat to grab our attention. He motioned to my mother for a glass of water to which Ammi swiftly acted upon, dropping the morsel of her food on the plate.
He gave me and Sameer "that" look clearly screaming "get out of here." We both ushered out of the room but didn't stop eyeing the dining table curiously before hiding behind the wall, facing the back of Abbu.
"Sehar, aaj tumhare professor ka call aaya tha hume." Busily, He tore the piece of roti and dipped it in the deep plate, long enough for the roti to soak in the content.
Sehar shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her tongue was caught in a knot that forgot to speak. Well, in front of Shahzaib Akhtar's intimidating personality, nobody dares to look into his eyes in this house, let alone speak.
"He informed me that you've failed in three of his subjects." He stated calmly as if discussing about today's weather.
He chewed his food loudly rather lazily, apart from him everyone was watching the interaction of father-daughter duo with piqued curiousity.
"Do you even understand the importance of this year in your career?" He spat with boiling anger. "What do you think, am I an imbecile to waste my hard earned money on your college's fees, do you even know how much does your coaching cost?" He said to Saher whose head was hung low. Her dupatta stuck on her head did the job to cover her face.
"Yeh jo paise tum par kharch karrha hu na, woh darakht par nahi ugte." Sehar didn't utter a single word in protest neither do I expect her to say anything.
The course she had enrolled in college was the least she was interested in. In fact, Abbu had pestered her to take admission in it because according to him, Computers are trending in the chart of employment portfolio. She was doing okay-ish in the beginning; but after second year, things took a toll on her academically and she started to fail in most of her tests.
"I swear, never had I felt this humiliated until today." At the intensity of his voice, I can figure the colour of chicken Angaara on the plate and Abbu's red face didn't hold much difference
"Just look at your sister. If not from others, atleast learn something from her." This was the part where we were supposed to act civil and sober, yet the mere mention of my name made me squirm, Sameer glanced at me. He knows where the conversation was heading, silently groaning at it, he left the room, On some other day, Sameer would've done the entire reporting but he wasn't used to the old stale drama. He craves for something new and exciting.
He loves drama, but not in his life. As usual , Typical teenager behaviour.
"You know, never had she made me feel so insulted like you do, It's safe to say that she did the exact opposite. From coming first in every class to excelling extra curriculum activities, she did her best. And you?" He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if fighting with the inner turmoil. "And you! I am ashamed to even call you my..."
"Abbu!" I jumped in, As much as I love to hear my praise, I hate how that statement will shatter the ounce of confidence left in Sehar.
Abbu looked at me quizzically and raised his eyebrows in question. I tried to come up with an excuse that will make up the situation.
"Woh.. uh..Ha. Baby bua ka call aaya hai landline par." A sense of relief washed over my conscience when he bought my excuse, pushing the chair out, He took a long stride to the exit, not before glaring on Sehar and not before advising ammi by saying " kuch toh samjhao apni beti ko."
After an eternity, Sehar stood up from her seat and took lousy steps, she tucked her dupatta down while harshly wiping the tears from her rosy cheeks. When she reached at my pace, her bloodshot hazel eyes met mine and I swear to God, never have I saw such pure look of hatred and disgust in her eyes. If looks can kill, I would've been considered dead by now.
The rest of the day flew by in a blink of an eye. Sehar didn't come out of our room even when her friends stopped at our place to meet her, she loves her friends to the death. Even when ammi insisted her to tag along for some shopping - shopping instantly skyrockets her mood and in the end of these things didn't work in our favour, I pulled out my last wild entry card.
In the name of baking, I made an absolute hell of our poor kitchen just to uplift my dearest sister's mood. It has always been our thing. Whenever I or Sehar had some shittiest day. We usually bake together.
Let me rephrase it; Sehar bakes and I vent out my problems, vice versa.
She loves to bake and cook and treats her kitchen like a baby and you know it's serious when Sameer knocked on her door just to fill in the details of the mess I had created yet she didn't snap the door in anger just to come to my throat to split it in half, threatening me to very dear thing of mine she knows. She would drag my corpse to the countertop and chop it into half, without hesitation. But today it was different. Today, the silence from the other side of the door was deafening.
Ek akela pan, ek khalish thi uske awaaz ke begair is ghar me. Itna shor hone ke bawajood ek lambe arse ki khamoshi thi us din.
YOU ARE READING
Hum-Shanaas
Fiksi Remaja"It's a curse to be the oldest among my siblings, what am I? A second parent for them to hate? Did my parents forget that I am their part of flesh and blood?" "It's a curse to be the youngest, they think that I am in constant need of spoon-feeding...
