Ecstasy

6. She's Intoxicated by Love

~Sakynah~

Cambridge, Massachusetts

Ill at ease, I had been waiting in the detention class for over an hour and all through that time I had organic chemistry notes opened in front of me yet never once did I glance at them, let alone read. My mind being heavily occupied with events that took place earlier with thousands of questions swaying inside me: first off, I couldn't really fathom the reason behind Hussain's proposal; I didn't know if he actually loved me or was just playing around; I didn't understand Zayyan's outburst; maybe Zayyan saw a dark side in Hussain's intention; I didn't know if I was ready for any such relationship. Nevertheless, the most incomprehensible thing that I saw was my own response towards Hussain, I could've easily turned down his proposal and block him from everywhere yet what I did was beyond myself. I always denied his presence, held grudges with him, hated him for teasing me, hated him for getting better grades than I, despised his being in school basketball team, even envied him sometimes, but not once in forever did I see him that way. Was it an unknown emotion brewing up inside me which I had been hiding all along? I dunno.

I took a trip down memory lane, recalling each of the moments I shared with him: starting with when his family shifted to USA. His father, Abdur-Rahman Shah, was childhood friend of my father and they shared more like a brotherly bond, even they went to same college yet parted ways due to their respective fields. Uncle Rahman, as I call him, used to serve in Pakistan Army as a colonel though he was impelled to take early retirement due to his cardiac issues, since then he migrated to Cambridge with his family, comprising his wife and his only son, regardless of the fact that he had massive brethren relations back in Pakistan. 

I fascinatingly remember the instant when I first saw Hussain. It was a bright spring morning, I- a 7 year old child back then- was playing in the lawn with mud streaking my arms and face, that's when he showed up in my front lawn wearing blue shorts, snickers and hanging a BenTen backpack. He stepped in my garage, not saying a word but staring right into my eyes, his almond eyes were hazel in colour. I, who lived amidst blue eyes, found his hazelish shade quite intriguing. We kept on the stare game for a while, but shortly I got annoyed by his glances,  and apparently I was planning to throw mud at him but I couldn't really work up my plan because dad suddenly stepped in alongwith Uncle Rahman and his wife, holding their luggage. Just when he was about to introduce me, he noticed the mud splashes on my face and consequently scolded me,'' GOD! What have you done to yourself? Go and wash up.'' he shrieked.  A stubborn little girl as I was, I felt insulted in front of guests and that little dumbass evidently laughed at me. Since then I had made up my mind that he and I were rivals. Pure rivals.

And as all rivals, we lived just across the lane from each other, like an army standing on either side of the control line, alert for the attack. We spied on each other and planned to make the other feel inferior. 

Besides our differences, our families treasured one another: my dad used to stay with Uncle Rahman till late every night, smoking and reminiscing about their time in Pakistan; her mom, Auntie Shehla, used to come over and cook with mom on Eids; every Eid, we used to buy each other Eid presents; Zayyan and Hussain were like soul brothers, always hanging out together and having night outs. 

As for me, I respected his family, even I used mingle up with Uncle Rahman from time to time, listening to his military experiences over a cup of tea, in fact he was the source from where I learned a couple of Urdu phrases, classic songs, and Indo-Pak history. He was such a gentleman, with a fatherly shine in his eyes and his officer's vibes being prominent in his manners. Yet his son, he was a savage- the kind of guy who always messed up with things he shouldn't.

And yet time and again, he proved this fact by constantly baiting on me, both at home and in school. For instance, when I was nine, he coaxed me into playing with him and when we started playing hide and seek, he appeared from one corner and without warning picked me up to lock me in my own closet. I stayed there for what seemed like an eternity until my mom came to rescue me. I came out, all drenched up in sweat and crying yet that beast had a winning smile over his face- and worst thing was that he persistently reminded me of this incident all throughout.