Risen from dust

Nine

Present day 1991, Islamabad

Death was a blessing in disguise for Mariam, as her life had been chaotic except for the days she spent with Harris in Lahore.

Just two hours after the child lost her mother, she was missing, and Harris was overwhelmed and unable to locate Noor. He searched everywhere on campus, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Harris, I have arranged for a coffin and transportation. A colleague helped me with the preparations. Did you find Noor yet? I have to go talk to the driver." Saleem said, worried about his niece.

"I can't..." Harris's voice trembled as he hid his face, attempting to hold back the tears.

"What's wrong? Where did she go?" Saleem said panicked.

"I can't find Noor anywhere. I searched the entire campus, but she's nowhere to be seen," Harris confessed, his worry evident.

"My dear brother, I just saw her a while ago in room 227, fast asleep," The nurse attending Mariam had overheard their conversation and informed Harris that his daughter is safe.

"Really? I went there twice, but I only found an old man and his grandchild," Harris replied, confused. Even Saleem hadn't seen her. They must have lost their minds in grief.

"You're under a lot of stress. Losing someone close to your heart can cloud your mind. Go home and find some peace," the nurse suggested, trying to ease his anxiety.

Harris hurried to room 227 and was taken aback to see the baby girl soundly asleep. He was certain she hadn't been there earlier, but he realized his mental state may have distorted his perception. They loaded the coffin onto the back of the van and began their journey to Gujrat. Tension filled the air, and Harris wanted to address some unresolved matters with Saleem, but given the circumstances, he couldn't find the right opportunity.

Harris broke the silence, "How did you have a sudden change of heart? Just two days ago, you were planning to flee the country, and now you want to go home, knowing how furious Abba jaan is with you."

"It was Mariam who wanted to leave. I fed her lies and made her believe that you wanted her dead," Saleem confessed, unable to meet Harris's gaze, consumed by shame.

"I see," Harris replied tersely.

"There's something else. When I was in London, I didn't have any friends. Nobody wanted to befriend me because I was 'brown' and uncool. But one day, while sitting on the street drinking coffee, a hipster came and sat next to me, saying, 'Dude, let me hook you up with some serious merchandise. It'll make all your depression disappear in an instant, fam.' The 'merchandise' was the least of my concerns. I was just glad to have someone talking to me after enduring daily bullying and name-calling. I felt invisible. I agreed to meet him at a coffee shop near my campus, where he introduced me to his friends," Saleem explained.

"I don't like where this is going," Harris interrupted.

"At first, everything seemed innocent. Every day after classes, I would join Simon and his crew in their underground club. We played pool, cards, and video games all day. When it came to business, it seemed straightforward. All we had to do was distribute packages, and we were generously rewarded. Life was great, and I got addicted to the drugs they sold. They provided them for free at first, but once I was hooked, they demanded payment, and I spent most of my money on the drugs. They took me to another world, a place with no problems, and Mariam became the least of my concerns. I snorted so much cocaine that my nostrils burned, and I looked like a zombie from an apocalypse. Prayers, the Qur'an..." Tears streamed down his face.

"That wasn't a rare occurrence. It was as if I wasn't even a Muslim anymore. They even called me 'Sal.' Life seemed great, from a druggie's perspective. Then, one day, while delivering packages, I got caught. Being an amateur, I spilt everything to the police in exchange for partial immunity. I had to do community service while in the country, and now I'm banned from ever returning to the U.K. Simon, his colleagues, and many connections wanted me dead."