She was a Mirage.

PART 12- Sulayman Residence...

I stayed lying in my gloom till the sun rose again and Bhabhi called me for prayer. The ladies of our house prayed together while the men went to the mosque. We quietly prayed then slowly retired to our rooms to pack for the depressing journey ahead of us.

I wasn't sure how I was going to face her family, specifically Zaid Bhaiyya. He had always been her rock, and secretly, she had been his strength. He'd give anything to see her happy, I didn't know how he was reacting to his strength being snatch away from him. The flight was quiet. None of us talked much. I couldn't stop staring out the window; I remembered what Ayesha used to tell me about flights,

"Addy don't sleep. Enjoy these hours. We are among the clouds; just a quarter of theview birds enjoy every day. Wouldn't u like to fly as well?" 

Itold her that as much as her theory and thoughts made me excited, I'd really like to catch my beauty sleep and rather not stay awake to stare at the clouds outside.

The night in the plane was sleepless. And considering the lights above the 3 other seats were turned on, I realized none of us could settle down.

Hamza had been quiet all day that day. Almost as if someone had taken a vacuum and sucked all the brightness out of his life that exact minute, he was told about the incident. Ali never stopped stroking my hand in comfort, but even the darkness under his eyes had turned even darker and deeper.
Once we landed and took the taxi for Sulayman Residence, the streets reminding me of familiar merry memories I had made there. As if the tears would never dry out, they started pouring again. Hamza's eyes were glazed as well, as his childhood memories came flashing back.
I could see him fight the urge to just break down and sob but there was nothing we could do anymore.
Soon enough, we reached their house and after waiting at the gate for barely 6 minutes we were invited inside, as the house help made us sit in the living room on the ground floor.
None of us were in the best state to be visiting after the almost 16 hour flight but no one complained. We were all there for the same reason. We were offered refreshments and then I finally saw Ayesha’s parents come down. Her mum who was normally an energetic and cheerful person who like her daughter always brightened up the room, looked frail and delicate. The wrinkles I had never seen on her face were on full display and she was supported by Maha Appi while her husband walked behind her. Zaid Bhaiyya was nowhere to be seen. They came into the room and soon enough all the ladies were huddled together sharing grievances and shedding a  tears. They were quiet tears. The ones that you know come from
your heart because it was breaking. With every drop that fell from those eye-lashes, you could feel another piece of the heart, crack and soon, your chest felt like it was tigheting from the lack of oxygen.
You had no power over them as they streamed down your cheeks. I couldn’t control myself as my cheeks became damp once again.
The men were in another corner trying to comfort the father who felt defeated at the loss of his youngest and brightest light of his eyes.
Hamza’s mom, Fatima Aunty asked, “Kaise hua Maha?” (how did it happen Maha)
Maha Appi who was trying to hide her tears as best as possible as she stood in a corner, answered, “Aunty, humein pata hi nahi chala, khana khaakar sone gayi toh humein laga thak gayi ho gayi, jab mummy uthaane gayi toh….” 
(Aunty we don't know. After she ate, she went to sleep, when mumma went to wake her up...)
She broke into sobs again as my mum tried comforting her.
Ayesha’s mum then looked up and made eye contact with me. She called me near her and hugged me tight. We shared that moment, just the two of us as she understood my pain and I could only imagine hers.
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