THE PRIDE OF THE PAKI

No Flowery Underwears For Show?

The wind whistles into my ears and the world rushes past me in a blur as I speed against space and time, flying as quickly as my legs would let me--actually I'm running towards my new school at full speed as I am as much as ten minutes late. Yay life.

I run and run, knowing the way already as I had memorised the location of this very place I have feared. I run with as much power as Allah endows me with. I try to ignore the churning in my stomach. And that is a big task in itself.

I screech to a stop in front of the large red brick building, seeming so enpowering and engulfing that I step back for a moment, breathless, hair windswept as I gaze up at the torment to be faced.

Bismillah, I recite silently and then run towards the classroom I was told about in my acception letter. I am running and the hallways are a swirl. I stop, gazing at the end of the hallway towards the neat, wooden door. It is being closed. Oho. I run towards it, intent to reach in time, to get there before the door closes against me. I run and run, and the physics gets to me. I will reach before the door closes.

I am there,I am almost inside, I just-

CRASH!!!

And there I am on the floor, face first, hair shielding my face, wishing that the earth would split open and engulf my unimaginably embarrassed ass down inside it.

I pull myself up. The silence is deafening, like the one before a storm. And imagine me here not even knowing these people. Its like knowing there's gonna be a storm but not being able to define a storm. Hell, its even worse.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" The sarcasm in the voice whips at my heart and for a moment I am tempted to cry. But I am Kiran Khan and this is not gonna end like this. I wronged and I will make everything okay. So I push back my hair, and gaze up at the tall, balding, and currently smirking professor, and smile.

"Asalam o alaikum"I say. He looks at me like I have told him that the earth has become flat. I knew this would happen, I had anticipated the reaction, but I had also made up my mind. It is my religious duty to say Salem, which in itself is just a well wish for the other person. I am proud of my religion and I will not let foreign people and cultures influence it.

"I am Kiran Khan, a new admission."

"Ah, yes, Kiraan." He's pronouncing my name wrong. Great. " I have you here on my list. You are late."

Oh really,genius, I thought I had been here rather early. I am the,tempted, but instead I stay calm and say, "yes, sir, I'm really sorry. I lost track of time. Just arrived last night."

He gives me a long look, as if reading me, and the asks, "Are you from India?"

"No, sir, Pakistan." I say.

"Ah." He says it as though it doesn't really make a difference, but I stare daggers at him, as though daring him to say so, but he knows better than to offend a 'paki'. I hate to say it but sometimes there are perks of being portrayed as a crazy terrorist by everyone. Huh, look what it has come to.

"Alright,then, Kiran, why don't you have a seat?"

It is when I turn around to look, for the first time, at our class, that I see average American high schoolers for the first time. I look at the way they are gazing at me, and instantly I know I am in trouble. I can sense foreign vibes, distances from all of them, their eyes say it all. I quietly make my way to the end of class where the only seat empty is the one beside this wiry haired guy, so I sit.

The professor begins with functions, a topic in mathematics I have always found easy. I listen carefully, however, intent on not to miss anything. It is when he leaves for a moment, as he calls it, that my wiry haired neighbour brings me back to the horrors of this place.

"Oye, paki, why are you wearing the boys uniform?"

I gulp, not daring to look at him, while I can practically feel the eyes of the entire class on me, burning holes through me.

"What's the matter, no flowery under wears for show?" He smirks at me and the entire class bursts in laughter. I feel my cheeks burn crimson. I wish an angel would descend to shut him up and save me right now.

"Leave her alone, Charlie." There it is, my angel. Or rather a black haired boy with a bored voice.

"Why, Luke?"

"'Cause she's gonna bomb you if you don't stop."

Even angles can be naughty,I conclude clumsily, as the ear splitting laughter dies with the entry of the professor, upon which many of the students put their heads down, ready to sleep.

I gaze at the wiry haired guy,Charlie, who is still smirking at me. Some of the students are still snickering at me. The black haired devil, yeah, not an angel, is looking amused.

This is gonna be a long, long day.

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