Outloved

1.

'Ayat...hello... I have landed safely...just cleared customs and now I am heading out to look for Irfan...I mean Mister Irfan' I hurried to end the call since I didn't have enough change to pay for an international call at Amsterdam airport.

'Haya, okay call us once you reach there...Irfan should be there...Hamza talked to him a while ago' My sister informed me.

'Okay, give my love to Haniya and salaam to Hamza Bhai...okay I really have to go now, bye' I told my sister to pass on the regards to my sweet niece and my brother-in-law who was more of a brother to me, almost like a father figure.

I grabbed my luggage again and went to find an exit in this gigantic airport. Most of the people spoke Dutch here and with such a busy airport I was not having much luck finding my way out, to top it off my flight was late and so pressure and exiting both started kicking in as I looked for to find a way out of this damn airport quickly. I hope Mister Irfan doesn't leave with me; I thought to myself. At last I found a right way and stepped out, taking the first breath of fresh air in the lively and cold city of Amsterdam. I could already imagine myself eating fries with mayonnaise and going to museums and parks and yes, also the internship. But mostly the food and all the glorious sights which I saw in movies and shows growing up. This was it. I was here. Will 4 months be even enough? Yes, of course I was missing home, but I wanted this so I had to learn to enjoy it to get the full experience. Good or bad. No, not bad. Just good. 

After walking around different pick up point, I finally found the pickup point Mister Irfan confirmed to pick me up from but when I got there no one was there. This wasn't good. My legs were starting to hurt from all the walking and running around the terminal that I just wanted to sit down

'Excuse me, can I use your phone?' I finally pulled up the courage and went to an elderly Caucasian couple who seemed like they were also waiting to be picked up. They gave me a strange look and spoke in their language, turning their head away from me. If not a phone, then a nice smile would have been enough to lift my spirits.

'Great...it was nice talking to you too...thank you...'I stared at them and walked backwards and bumped into someone. I felt someone's hand on my shoulders and I quickly turned around, but as if I already didn't have enough accidents for one day, I lost my balance and just as I was about to fall on my luggage, the same hand grasped my elbow to prevent me from a disastrous incident. I caught my breath once I found my balance and glanced at the person who offered such help to me.

'Haya' I recognized the person straight away from the pictures Hamza Bhai showed me. Long behold, Mister Irfan was in front of me.

'Yes...I am Haya...' I was flabbergasted to see him, not because he was a good looking man but because he was wearing a suit on a Sunday morning, I didn't know many people who made such an effort to dress up so professionally on a Sunday.

'I was waiting for you at door 3...' He glanced in my direction before moving to get the luggage for me.

'I got it' I went and grabbed my bags before he could. He didn't say anything and guided me to his car.

'I am at door 3' I said as we started walking. He stopped and turned around to look at me.

'This is door 13' He pointed his finger at the top where the numbers were, and I slowly glanced up and noticed the 1 which was written before the 3. He didn't wait for my answer and started marching again. He was as tight as his tie.

'It's pretty cold here...even around this time' I told him after getting inside the car. The sun was deceiving. 

'The flight was so long and there was this person who sat beside me and he snored so much...can you believe it...I couldn't even...'I started.