Your Average Girl.

The Unexpected.

The summer of 2022 found Minaal back in Pakistan. If you were to peer down the OPDs in Civil, you would find her in one of those musty rooms, sitting tall and alert, with a high bun and an air of dominance but a look of concern in her eyes that did not go unnoticed by the hordes of patients. She'd be wearing a white coat, something doctors here had abandoned but she was so used to doing it back in the States. The hot, sticky weather meant she was usually not at the best she could look but the last two years had taught her infinite patience.

The two month break Minaal and Mahira got from their respective programs had seemed like an oasis of possible adventure and traveling, beckoning them from afar. Turns out, it was merely a mirage. Their dates didn't coincide. They each contemplated traveling alone but then decided to do that together in the Christmas break instead. And so, Minaal went back home to Karachi. She spent her days working at Civil, doing OPDs in the dermatology department. It was the stories of acid burn victims that had initially brought Minaal to look into Dermatology. Progressively, she developed an interest as she realized the number of females bringing in their insecurities and their genuine problems that made them feel lesser.

It was personal too. Minaal was born with a rich, brown skin color in a part of world that was perhaps too imperialist or just too color blind to see beauty in any skin color other than white. It was deep rooted prejudice manifesting itself in mainstream discussions and everyday life. There was a time she was severely insecure because of it. There was a time she was made fun of for it and she resorted to using fairness creams. Her fierce pride never let her neither whine about it nor complain about it but she felt the jab society had made her feel nevertheless. So she knew how it was to want to change yourself physically to look more acceptable and appealing. She also knew that you had to constantly fight against such societal norms and that at 24, she had grown to be proud of the color of her skin and the rebellious nature of her hair but there were still days she was made to feel bad about it. She wanted to impart that self-confidence to girls. And so, she was voluntarily working at a place that needed it most.

"Amma, mujhay batain issko masla kya hai", she told a patient who was raving on about most of her problems.

"beti, bas yeh chehray par nishaan haii. Hakeem nay marham diya tha lekin ussay kuch faraq nahi para. Ab dekho, shaadi ki umar haii beta, log dekhnay aatay hein, achi nahi lagti tou mana kar deytay hein. Eik beti haii, issko mein khush dekhna chaahti hoon" she ended desperately.

There was a time all of this would have made her fume. She was more insightful than that now and it showed in the way she approached the patient.

"Theek hai. Yeh paidaishi nishaan hai?"

"Haan beti"

Minaal then turned to the girl and addressed her entirely, blocking out the mother. The girl was reluctant at first but then she showed that she was reluctant to have her face operated on. That she knew it could leave scars.

Minaal knew this was a wise girl; to recognize what you want in the face of the world telling you this isn't what you should want is brave indeed. Minaal explained the surgical procedure, the risks and benefits and asked the girl to think about it and come back. She ended with a little advice on self-confidence with a smile that was readily returned.

That was the last patient for the day. Minaal was wrapping her work and talking to her co-workers when she saw a man in his uniform approach the room undecidedly. He stood out amongst the crowd; his broad shoulders and his tall height dignified by a stance of pride and an air of discipline that could only come from a military school. Besides, he wore the air force uniform and that was enough to make people turn with a second glance. He was here with a few other soldiers on some official work- a rarity at Civil.

Minaal resumed her work and was just about to leave after a cup of chai when he approached the door of the OPD. He waited and knocked on the open door to announce his presence and greeted the room.

"Maazrat kay saath, yahan retired major Azfar Hussain sahib betha kartay thay. Kya aap mein say koi jaanta hai?" he asked politely.

Everyone looked at each other and came up short.

"Aap aisa karain, kisi aisay doctor say maloom kar lain jo kaafi time say yahan ho. Hum recently aye hein", said Minaal.

"umm acha. Who kahan..."

"aiyay. Mein aapko lay kar chalti hoon. Dr, Salman bethtay hein yahan, he's been here for 40 years now.. He'll know" replied Minaal as she got up with her bags.

"nahi nahi ma'am, aap bas mujhay batadain..."

"aapko civil kay raston mein milay ga nahi", Minaal said as she flashed a smile "plus, mein ussi rastay say bahar jaaon gi tou itna masla nahi hai"

"buhat meherbaani.", he replied in a very cultured manner.

There was a sixteen year old version of her doing a weird mix of a bhangraand a swoon somewhere inside her.

She bade her co-workers goodbye and grinned at the look of mock envy her friend shot her as she made her way outside. As she led him to his destination and left him standing at the stone-built, colossal building of the doctor, he thanked her profusely. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before and so, she decided to make a bit of small talk. She confessed her father and uncle were both in the PAF which led to an exchange of names and mutuals they might know.

He was the only pilot in his family. His seniors were her father's colleagues. He would soon be posted elsewhere but for now, he was thoroughly enjoying the life he had so passionately pursued. She could listen to his voice all day.

As she turned around to leave, she was aware of how he respectfully stood out until she had walked away.

Mannerisms like that meant a lot to her. 'HOW IS HE SO HOT. Omg. Where do I even start with all that was so perfect... Okay, no I can't think that way!' she chided herself. Two seconds later, she caved in again, 'but that's EXACTLY the kind of guy I'd lovee. And he seemed interested in whatever I had to say. He just SEEMED like the sort of guy with whom I could even flirt with easily.. I bet he has so many girls swooning over him... Okay STOP'

Sadness engulfed her from the inside as she sighed. 'If only I wasn't to be engaged in less than ten days'

"Dr. Khan, you dropped something", came a voice from behind.

Minaal turned around, startled at being addressed like that at Civil.

"OH! Hii. What are you doing her...umm what'd I drop?" she said as she scanned the ground.

"This pen", he said, holding out a pen in his hand proudly.

"Oh thank you!"

Minaal took the pen, smiled in thanks and was about to rush away when he stopped her yet again.

"You said your father was in the batch of '69, right?"

"yeaaaah", said Minaal.

"So you'll be coming to Risalpur this weekend?"

"YES! The reunion... Are you stationed there?"

"Yes, I am. I hope to see you there, then?" he smiled

"Yes, inshaAllah", Minaal grinned.

She turned to leave with a sort of giddiness she hadn't experienced in the longest time. As she rolled the pen between her fingers, she looked at it consciously for the first time and realized... She had never seen that pen before in her life, let alone owned it.