Redemption

Dusk and Dawn

It was pouring outside. Again.

That was the thing about Peshawar, it almost always rained. But I never grew tired of it. I loved it in fact. It was beautiful; the scent of damp soils, the occasional thunderous clattering of raindrops, the spiced pakoras and dhaniya chutney.

Today, the rains were different. They were different because normally I'd sit by the giant window frame and watch everything turn to mist and smoke. I would sit by idly and think about sad things and feel gloomy. But the melancholy within me had closed its eyes and dozed off.

There was nothing more interesting than watching little Pathan angels roam around the streets of Gulab town with their bare feet and mud-stained faces. There was no developed drainage system so the rainwater would collect and rise on the streets and roads.

"Samandar! Samandar!" That's what they would call it. I chuckled. It sure did look like one too. A sea of rainwater, sewage and trillions of species of germs but the children didn't care. They'd probably wake up the next morning with a fever but still not regret playing in the rain. They loved the rain, just like I did.

Aliyaan and I used to play in that dariya too. We did all sorts of goofy things when we were little kids and we didn't regret a single minute spent together...at least I hope he didn't.

It feels like a century ago, I still remember

"Fe Fe!" The brown-eyed sea monster lunged towards me and I squealed in surprise. He dunked his head into the pool of muddy water and came back out with a splash and the water droplets spewed and dissolved around him in ripples. His hair was now layered with mud and goo from the rain and his face was streaked with sand particles.  

"I am the badshah of this dariya!" He would say.

"Pagal Ali," The kids would chant all around him, myself included.

He would run after every kid who taunted him and push them all into the dirty waters, except for me.

"Why didn't you push me?" I complained. I wanted to roll in the mud, everyone else seemed to have a lot of fun.

"I would never," he spoke softly.

"Why not?"

" Because you are my shehza'di. I can't treat you like I treat everyone else. You need to be loved." He murmured with his front teeth grazing against his lower lip.

"Pagal Ali," I ruffled his sand caked hair and shortly chuckled. I was seven back then but I still remember replaying those words in my head for the rest of the night.

Pasts aren't supposed to be entirely dark. People look back to what they have overcome and achieved. Sometimes they let the usual "what if?" haunt them and sometimes they just regret doing the things that they did. I did both but more importantly, I found solace in reliving my past.

"You are my Shehza'di. You need to be loved."                      

It took an entire lifetime to understand what an eight year-old had said. If only I had known.  

****

The grass was stiff and I liked the way its prickly edges tickled against the soft skin of my bare feet. I would walk out here in my lawn sometimes to let my steam off. Sometimes, I just wanted peace and quiet. I'd come out here and write to my heart's content. I would sit and cry and go to sleep. I'd grown so fond of my little, heaven. God bless Meher aunty for everything she'd done for us. I sat down beneath a shady Neem tree and looked at the sparkling grass carpeting the ground. Ammi limped her way across the yard and sat down beside me.