The Beautiful Broken

ZUBI'S CLOSET TELLS A TALE

ZUBI'S CLOSET TELLS A TALE

One particular day, when he was about to go off on his umpteenth trip, and she was putting together his shirts etc, she asked him

Z: How long will you need this time?

A: I need two days, but will try and come back tonight. (watching her pack)

Z: I really don't want you driving home in the night trying to get back especially since you have a meeting again next day.

A: But you wait for me, don't you? I hate to make you wait.

Z: That's all right. Why don't you stay the night in a hotel with Dr S? Far safer and at least you will get some rest.

A: "Gosh thank you Zubiya. That will be wonderful. (sounding relieved).

Z: (turning away quickly lest he sees that her eyes have filled with tears at the relief in his tone. )

Z: "Wives are supposed to understand, aren't they? she quickly went out so he doesn't guess how dejected she is.

As he went out of the house to be picked up by Dr S, he looked back, and saw her standing between his parents, watching him go. How he loved her hand holding his mother's. his father half turned saying something to Zubiya. He saw her looking up at his father and being patted on her head by him. And then he saw his mother hug Zubiya and take her inside the house. All three of them went inside without sparing him a glance.

Dr S: (from the car) Good Morning Asfand. All set?

Dr A: Good morning Sir. All set.

By the time he had reached the highway, he knew that the weird scene he just witnessed meant... that there was something wrong with Zubiya and that he was going to get the riot act read to him by his parents. He hoped something wasn't REALLY wrong with Zubiya. What on earth could be wrong? What could he have missed? What had she said that he hadn't paid attention to? He was forced to think about the last few days and mentally go through his conversation with her. He soon realised that beyond speaking about hospital, patients and the new project they had barely spoken about anything. He remembered that he had just been so incredibly busy that he wanted to come to her when he was exhausted and being with her somehow magically renewed him so that he went back fresh and ready to take on the world. But he hadn't really spent time with her. He felt so hugely guilty, he just wanted to turn back. What was wrong? Was she unwell? No she didn't seem unwell. She just seemed...silent.

The return journey that evening reminded him of a similar journey he had taken 8 weeks back, when he had rushed back to her because she sounded as if she was yearning to meet him. Only he and Dr S knew what all he had to do today in order to get free and home tonight. Dr S glanced quizzically at the young man on the wheel, only concentrating on the road, not even replying to anything coherently, in deep anger with himself. And Dr S felt thankful he was in the car because he didn't trust Dr Asfand to drive sanely in such a rage.

Dr S smiled and thought about the times when this very same young man had cribbed about appointing Dr Zubiya. Asfand, earlier always referred to Dr Zubiya as "your recommendation, making sure his mentor knew he was responsible for Zubiya's mess; and then validated his mentor's judgement by falling in love, hook, line and sinker for the very same your recommendation. Dr S permitted himself a victorious smile, as he felt he had understood even while she was being sarcastically referred to as Dr S's pick, that there was no need for Mr always-in-control-Asfand to get so capitally disturbed by any doctor, without their being some personal reason for it. Someday, he planned to drag his younger colleague through some hot coals on "your recommendation but today was definitely not the day.