I tossed and turned in my bed that night, it was impossible to get some sleep with the constant nagging of the brain about the events of the day before.
Everything about that guy Adeel was troubling. Including his authoritative aura, and his last words.
He knew me?
Knew me how?
Anxiety and fear flooded my body. What if he knew me because of certain things and let's be honest nobody's an angel dropped down from heaven, and certainly not me.
Calm down. I told myself.
That's no more. Do not think about it.
And so it was Saturday, and it was my turn to be cooking. I started off with my usual omelettes. If there was one thing I was absolutely good at, they were omelettes. Not like I was bad at cooking or anything, because Hamza usually complemented it with a chappal/choking vigorously and cursing me to the moon and back, but I was descent.
Descent like -if you wanted to live- descent. We mostly just hired a cook, except when she took off on weekends where we adjusted by taking turns.
Take note, men and women contribute to the home equally and yes, Hamza did a better job at cooking than I.
Sometimes.
That's how it works around our house anyway, because we were all that was left in the world for each other and we just put up with it. We did have a father but he was too busy with his own life and thereafter we moved out and had to fend for ourselves.
And boy were we good at fending for ourselves.
Hamza started off small with a cafe and now, by God's grace he owns a chain of hotels. He's a witty businessman and I have to give him that.
As for me, I'm just a little accountant in this huge firm called Garrisons Ltd. where the owner isn't a handsome looking, young, ruthless, billionaire who falls in love with a girl. Our employer was a sweet man, and yes I do mean a man with a heart in his 70s.
The reason why I did not like to leave willingly and spend almost 2 years working for the same firm after my internship there.
But fending for ourselves was just a part of what life put us through.
For me, it was fear.
I did not just suppress my deepest and darkest of fears, let me tell you something you may wanna carry along with you in life.
Identify your fears,
And then you conquer them.
*********
"I refuse to believe you run a business when you can't even tell salt and sugar apart"
"Hey, do not go there. I'm very skilful, I'm fabulous." He thumped his chest.
Hamza was being his stupid, childish self. And nothing was more annoying when his phone rang and he had the new viral music video PPAP as his ringtone.
"Sure you are." I grumbled.
He did a little dance and left with his phone call. I tried giving him a disapproving look but my facial muscles betrayed me and I broke into a smile.
I'd be damned if it wasn't one of his partners at this time on a weekend. He was lucky to have his close friends as his business partners, they were madly passionate and loyal but sometimes I feel it could backfire on him, the intimacy of their relationship.
He meant more to them, they were like brothers. It's this crazy thing that men have.
For instance, when Hamza fell off the ladder and broke his leg in the process of fixing a light bulb, the first people he asked me to call were his partners. It was sweet of them to stay at the hospital and take care of the issues, but it wasn't like I couldn't do it myself?
Me? My friends? Ha ha. My friends are as non existent as harambe.
Except for that one childhood friend, Hana.
Hana was a good friend of mine until the inevitable happened and she thought she was better off without a freak like me. I wouldn't blame her because I pushed her away like I pushed away the rest of them. No one would know.
Don't we all have our deepest, darkest secrets? Don't we all have fears?
Don't we wanna keep them buried? And not under the naked eye of people open to observation and judgement?
I was living under all that façade. I was safe.
Little did I know this was all gonna change soon.
