Lost and Found

Chapter 1

7 years later.

Being lost sounds scary and it certainly is and to be found is everyone's wish but with me it's the other way round, I want to be lost, I want to get dissolve in this world so the people who know me could not find me and I am scared to be found, I am scared to be reminded of my past from the people I'm running away from and every single time my fate decide something against my will and leads me to stand in front of someone who was the part of my dark era and to make it more worst whenever I try to forget those days and push them at the back of my mind just then by simply looking at a mirror all those memories runs like a movie in front of me and then a bitter laugh escape my mouth. Few years ago when I was used to see my reflection, my dark chocolaty brown hair devilishly set–my signature style they were used to say it- my dark brown eyes screening the sins I had commit, my wheat colored skin and completely shaped body, representing my south Asian inheritance was something I myself was very proud of but now I feel disgusted and no matter how much I ask for forgiveness, I cry in pain of having nightmares, I cry and regret all what I have done however nothing can calm the storm inside me and believe me if you would been in my place you would give up everything to forget all those memories and be able to fight your own demon. You would love to get lost somewhere, anywhere and never be able to get found.

My mind was so much clouded with my jumbled up thoughts that it was silently ignoring the continuous alarming of my clock until my phone also started ringing and there was hard knock on the door of my bedroom which brought me back to reality and I found myself sitting on the prayer mat, quickly standing up I realized that it's almost fajar (dawn prayers) and I have been sitting here for past two hours when I woke up from a nightmare like usual. The only thing good about waking up like this is that I get tahajud (A voluntary prayer) almost every night.

"I'm up Joe, thank you." I called to the butler of my parents who is now staying with me from past five years, after two years of letting me live on my own they forcefully made me keep Joe. Shaking away the thoughts which were taking up my senses, I went inside the large closet to take out clothes for the day as my parents are coming back to States after their three months trip from Pakistan attending a family wedding and before going home they decided to pay me a visit, because they think I am not mentally stable because apparently growing a beard and starting to follow shariah is not sensible at my age for my modernized parents, they think that prayer mats and the duas are for the last days of life, little do they know they are the real reasons of our lives.

After showering and offering Fajar and reading Quran, I dressed up in a white button down shirt, grey dress pant and grey coat, I set my hair back and wearing the cologne I went out of my room getting my car keys from the tri stand wooden table decorating the corridor of my huge-parents-forced-given-apartment, I walked down the stairs and my nostrils were filled with rich aroma of breakfast and with even close eyes I can tell that it was combination of cheese omelet, heavenly delicious pancakes and then the desi combination of parathas and halwa, it's surprising how Joseph can make desi dishes in such an amazing manner that you would not stop licking your fingers maybe working for fifty years with my family had made him partially Pakistani.

"Goodness Joe!" I chuckled entering the kitchen "You were really missing baba and maa, weren't you?"

"They are coming New York after six months and you know how much your father love Pakistani food." He grinned placing my coffee mug in front of me and I nodded but the peaceful conversation was interrupted by my phone blasting with a phone call and the caller I.D ruined my mood.

"Yes, Megan?" I asked picking up the call of my assistant, though I didn't needed one but may be working as CFO in one the biggest branch of a multi-national company brings in some unwanted perks. Yes, a lot of people would kill for earning the amount I earn per month, yes, I have a strong bank balance and a prominent social status but I guess it's not worth it when your soul isn't just approving it and you're continuously looking for a peace flag.

"Sir, your meeting with Maxwell Corporation had been delayed till the evening and—"she was saying in her chirpy, sweetly voice.

"Well thank you for informing Megan I would be late today so ask Mr. Hayes to put the sale record of New Jersey for last month on my table and to finalize the file for tomorrow's chamber meeting." I sternly replied and cut the call. After listening to her three months ago talking to one of the employ how much she wants to 'attract' me and how she could do it, the respect I thought she deserve was vaporized in thin air.

"Oh it's almost 7 Wali the flight would be landing any minute." Joe reminded me as I sipped on last of my coffee and took the last bite of my pancake, my eyes went to the big clock decorating the wall of living room.

"Damn! I'm late, Okay Joe I'll be dropping them here and will be going to office but I would come early today so just explain them something good behind my back because I'm sure they'll be asking tons of questions to you." I explained him my situation and grabbing my wallet, cell phone and other important stuff, went out of my penthouse apartment calculating that if I drive carefully but at the speed of 60 I would reach the airport before my parents come out of the lounge. Great! Thank God I decided to live in Brooklyn and not in Manhattan like a lot of other people I know or today I would have to listen from my father on being ignorant about them as the airport they are coming from is near to the place I reside then your infamous Manhattan.

As calculated I successfully reached the airport on time and after waiting for five minutes my parents came out dressed elegantly as they had done all my life, my mother wearing a light peach color saree and a fur coat while her shoulder length hair perfectly styled, though her representation is not as a perfect Muslim but looking at her beaming with happiness makes it acceptable for me and I stay quiet, she had suffered a lot to be criticize so I can only pray, while my father wearing a descent suit, it seems like they are coming for some formal trip rather than visiting their son and as you can guess I can't simply express this feeling to them.

"Hello!" my mother smiled and took me in her warm hug, no matter how much difference I prefer now but no comfort can compare the comfort of a mother's arm and unlike all the mothers of my maa's circle, my maa understands this.

"Asalam O Alikum! It's so good to see you both!" I widely grin and hugged my father.

"Good to see you too." He smiled at me patting my back.

Though my parents were not very comfortable with the idea of not handling family business and the change in me, my father had always been very supportive and I believe that secretly he is very happy and proud of it, the spark in his eyes easily confirms my believe. He had always been a stern and stick-to-the-rule type father but he has never failed in motivating me.

With a bit of chit chat they both followed me to my sleek new silver Chevy Impala and the way back to the home began, the drive was full of the stories of their trip to homeland, how much everything has changed in past twenty years as most of our family is now in US so my family member goes to Pakistan on rare occasion and this time my only aunt's only son was getting married so almost everyone went except few of us which included me as well, because we were given work of arranging a grand Valima ceremony here at the family place in Virginia so all the family friends can attend and meet the newlywed couple, I was still thinking about the last of arrangements as the grand function is supposed to happen this Saturday which is just two days away, when my mother said a very familiar name and I froze, I felt numb, like my brain all of a sudden stopped working and I was paralyzed, even after all these years. Luckily my father was sitting in front that he turned the steering wheel or we all were very close to death.

"Wali what the hell were you thinking?" My father yelled as I slowly took the car to the side, there was horrid expression on my mother's face while my father's was red in anger. "The car would have crashed into that trolley!" he yelled again.

"I'm sorry.." was all I could faintly murmur.

"Sorry? Really Wali? You better should see a doctor now, screaming at night, sudden aggressive attitude, and lack of attention you are killing yourself like this!" he was spitting his words while my mother was continuously trying to calm him.

But even at this moment my brain was just processing one name, Khadija Badar, seven years, even after seven years I could never forget those chocolate brown eyes and that tear stained face.

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