Remembering Shauqina

Chapter 10: Rahima

CHAPTER 10: Rahima

 Have you ever been to a movie, and then, right when everything seemed to be going right for the main characters, suddenly, there came a third party and ruined everything that was perfect? Or have you listened to a beautiful song, and at that most emotional part, an out-of-tune voice jarred the whole mood? Well, that was how Rahima was when she came into my life. She was everything that I wasn’t. She was taller than me, fairer than me, more beautiful than me and I reckoned more intelligent than me too because she was a Ma’arifian – she was a transfer student from an all-girls’ Madrasah. Students from that all-girls’ school have a reputation for having both beauty and brains and iman. In short, they are perfect. 

To make matters worse, she was in Zak’s class. I wasn’t.

And in Zak’s project group which I wasn’t.

And under Zak’s charge in the Student Leader unit as well. I wasn’t.

She was everywhere Zak was and I wasn’t!

Was I jealous? Well, I don’t think that was what I was calling the feeling then. It was more territorial – you see, I knew Zak first, I knew his mother first, I was his friend first way back in primary school, so, by right I should be with him. By right too, I should decide who should be his friend and who should not be. It was that simple to me. Do you understand now, the logic of a thirteen year old girl?

It was Zafirah who first broached the matter to me. Dear Zafirah, my best friend. Dear, over jovial, over loud and overbearing Zafirah. We clicked like the cogs in a wheel. Where I was lacking in self confidence, she more than make up with her utter disregard for anybody but her opinion, her feelings, her needs – in short, herself. Now that I pictured us, we would surely have passed for Abbott and Costello – I was lean and thin, and she was, well, well-endowed. Yes, we were really two great bosom, pardon the pun, pals.

 Anyway, there we were, in the canteen, sharing a bowl of mee soup when, with her mouth full, she questioned me nonchalantly:

"What's with you and Rahima?"

"Huh?"

"Come on! You're jealous right?" She said, piercing her noodles languidly with her fork. Ouch! That question hurts.

" Who wouldn't? She is sooo...perfect, you know? Such a nice girl..." I sighed.

"Hah!" Zafirah retorted. I didn't want to entertain that snort for fear of back-biting that poor, perfect girl. Zafirah was not appeased. I think her mission that day was to annoy me.  Totally. 

"What’s with you and Zak?”

 “Huh?”

 “Come on, I have seen you – the way you look at him, the way you follow his every –“

 “I do not!!! You over exaggerate!” I felt insulted. I felt my self-esteem being questioned. I felt, well, so hard-up!

            She rolled up her eyes. It was so infuriating! I was ready at that moment to denounce her as my buddy. She then sighed.

 “Well, deny it all, if you must” – She held out her hand obnoxiously, so self-assured she was, as I was about to go on another round of vehement denials.

  “Just so you must know – I think he likes you too – THERE!”

 Scrawny, tough and disrespectful me over the perfect Maarifian? She must be sick. Awfully sick. I remembered her smiling beatifically, triumphantly, raising her eyebrows at me, confident and totally at peace in her belief as I went very, very, red in the face, my appetite gone and the bowl of mee soup left unfinished, God forgive me.

 And to add insult to injury, salt to the already chronic wound, as I looked up miserably, I saw Rahima coming through the canteen,  with her friends, but so perfect was she that in truth, she stood out like a shining pearl. Then I saw her suddenly smiling shyly, almost coyly, as she looked towards her right, then looked down again. I followed her gaze and yes, that smile, that shyness was for Zak, whose friends were already giving him punches teasingly.

And the music went totally out of tune and out of sync with my heart.