Her Vocation

19. Naveed Suleiman

I sat on my bed, slouched over, while still in the nikkah attire. The heels of my hands pressed against the socket of my eyes; as I tried to piece together how and where did it all start to go wrong. The earliest memory, I could trace back to, was when I was 4 and for the first time witnessed the horrors of my world.

"Now you will tell me what to do and what not to—?!! I think you've forgotten your place—I'll have to make it so, you never make the same mistake twice—" I stood on top of stairs watching Dad hit Mom through the railings. I was in bed when the loud noises scared me and I got out to check them—

"Naveed Baba!!" I was pulled back with a jerk by my Nanny who picked me in her arms and dashed to my room.

"Buwa—buwa—why was Daddy hitting Mommy? Did Mommy do bad—?" I asked between sobs, while Buwa helped me change out of my pyjamas which I had peed into just then.

"No, no Baba—It's—It happens between adults sometimes. It's normal—Adults fight sometimes—" She continued without meeting my eyes.

"Normal—? But—but Mommy was crying—she is hurt—will I get beaten too—when I adult—"

"No Baba! Naveed Baba is so nice and a good kid—No one will hit you—We all love you, so much—" She had taken my face in her hands and gave me a peck on my cheeks.

"And Mummy? Mummy is bad—? So we get hit when we do bad—? Like Mummy—?" Buwa didn't answer, instead took me into shower.

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My gaze lingered on the little sister, whom they called Aasiya. While the older one clung to her mother; she stood there eyes downcast while rubbing the marble tile with her shoes, making squeaking noises. Her hands were clutching tightly at her rabbit backpack when she was reprimanded by Aunt Hina. Immediately she stopped all sorts of movement and her eyes snapped up to meet mine. For a moment, I could only watch her dazed before managing a small smile. Her expressions remained unfaltered but then she puckered her lower lip and turned away.

"Faiza dear why don't you go play with Naveed—Take Aasiya too—" Mum interjected suddenly and my eyes widened on looking at the elder sister who seemed like a nag in comparison.

"No Auntie—I am too old to play silly games with kids. Aasiya can go instead—Auntie why don't you have a daughter, my age—" I couldn't help an eye roll at her antics who seemed hardly 2 or 3 years older than me. Finally, after her noise died somewhat, I walked to the playroom with Aasiya on my heel.

"I am Aasiya. I may be 8 years old but I am no child—" I heard her mutter behind me and couldn't help but turn.

"Is that right? Naveed Suleiman—and even at 11 years old I think I might be more grown up than your whiney sister—" My voice broke when I saw the look of horror appearing on her face. Immediately clamping my mouth shut, I turned to open the door and let her in.

"Sorry—I didn't mean it—" My voice faltered as I watched her look around blankly. Her head flipped to mine at my confession and for the first time I saw a smile erupting on her features.

"It's alright. As long as you say sorry and don't repeat the mistake—" I heaved a sigh of relief at this before jumping on the beanbag in front of the TV and hunting for the controller.

"—that's what Haadi says. That Allah will forgive all our sins if we apologise with true heart and never repeat it again—" I heard her voice distractedly behind me while turning on the TV.