“Did you apologize to him properly!”. Alyzeh demands as she stands with her fists on her hip in front of Noor.

“Haan na. Now shut up. By the way, does he have a staring problem or summat…?”

“No… not that I know of… why?”

“Shit! I KNEW you spilled some ketchup on my jumper! You BITCH! you know how much I like it!”. Noor grabs Alyzeh’s neck and puts her in a headlock. It’s a while before they stop their pseudo-wrestling match, as Mahrukh walks in.

“Noor baji, did…”

“Uff yes yess YESSS!! Why the HELL are you both so worried about him?!”

“Izzat bhee koi cheez hoti hai, aur kissi ki kero toh hoti hai.” Alyzeh replies.

“Frankly speaking, uss banday ki achi izzat ker dee thee meiney.”. Noor walks over to one side of the room and picks up a book.

“Ho bhee achi khaasi jaani thi. Omi’s all stage shows and what not…”. Alyzeh replies as she dodges a flying book.

“Omer wouldn’t seriously ridicule a woman. Jay would murderize him. Acha get up, we’re going to be late for our dinner reservations.”. Mahrukh thwacks Noor with the book and dashes out of the room behind Alyzeh.

“Dumb babies.”. Noor picks up her bandana cloth and looks at it closely. Nope, no stains. Then why was… Ugh never mind, thinks Noor as she puts it over her head like a shawl. Wow. A bandana and a hijab. How nice.

“Jaldi kero!”, yell Alyzeh and Mahrukh as Noor jerks back to reality and leaves the sweet-smelling bandana cloth at the dressing table.

Oh, one of Deep Impacts

How is the asylum they put You into? For laughing too much at the things I said...

Me... The Seducer,

Christened by You

I can picture You there in the morning, Sitting on the white bed

Seperate, Still living in Your perpetual darkness,

A dark figure covered in white

Blending with the surroundings,

Not to fit. But rather to remain hidden,

And i can picture You there at night,

With the raining beating on the walls

You seem Comfortable, So much more at Ease

On the path to Freedom

No Body Notices...

“Why are you both snickering so much? Apna khana khao aur chalo gher!”. Omer scolds both Maheen and Osama as they suffocate laughs, their backs towards the window. Omer never took a table by the window, but this time he did because Osama and Maheen insisted, for reasons unknown. “Oww!”, yells Omer in pain as Mahrukh grabs Omer’s hair and tugs, rendering Omer half on the floor.

“Meee-aowhhh!”. Mahrukh raises her arms in triumph.

“Fittay moo tum donoh ka. Oww…”, Omer straightens up, then stands up to hug Mahrukh. “Maryjane, you’re becoming too strong. We need to change you from wrestler cat-food to baby kitten food.”. Omer squeezes tiny Mahrukh in his arms.

“H… hello Omer…”.

“Heylo Alyzeh! Nice seeing you here… are you guys here for dinner as well?”.

“Umm… yeah… err…”

“Well you’re most welcome to join… oh sorry, this is Maheen, and Osama. Maheen, Osama, this is Mahrukh, Fatemah’s sister, and her friend Alyzeh.”

They all greet each other, and Alyzeh tugs Omer’s sleeve, obviously distressed by something.

“Omer, I thought I should tell you. Noor’s here as well. She’s just outside…”

“Oh my god! Does she have a gun with her?”. Omer replies, exasperated. His ersatz horror is understood when he opens his mouth wide and puts both his hands on his cheeks.

“Nahi naa… I just…”

“Uffoh befkoof! Don’t worry. Its all fine. She was nice enough to apologize, and its not like I had any grudges in the first place. I’d love it if you guys had dinner with us.”

Noor came over, and was introduced by Mahrukh to everyone. She greeted Omer as calmly as ever, though there was a certain something that inhibited both of them. They sat as far away from each other, casually joking around with everyone, even each other. It was as if they had a sworn duty to make it certain that there were no bad feelings between them… yet… there was more the analysis of the presence of something than the absence of bad feelings that they were pre-occupied with. They never exchanged glances, never looked at each other for longer than a few moments, as if they wanted to say something but couldn’t, yet they never escaped each others glance, so as to show that they were not avoiding each other.

“Uff! I am soo full, I am going to explode!”. Mahrukh pats her stomach.

“Next thing you know you’re going to belch out loud, heina Maryjane?”. Omer works at his teeth with a toothpick.

“What… no shit… she does that?”. Noor puts down her spoon, done with her meal. “Never saw a cat burp…”

“I don’t think Fatemah’s that gross, and I don’t think Mahrukh should be either. I’d seriously feel very, very sick.”. Maheen adjusts her dupatta over her shoulder.

“Khuda ka wasta don’t do anything weird to her again”. Osama intervenes, only to be eyed dangerously by Maheen (“You’re the only person who’s doing weird things to me”). All was good after Maheen winked amorously at Osama, which, thankfully enough, the rest didn’t notice.

“Acha so ab you’re actually trying to burp?”. Alyzeh looks at Mahrukh in somewhat horror.

“NO! Weirdos. I’m just really full and reeaalllyy sleepy… I think we should go. Mein yaheen girr jaoon gee.”. Maheen puts her head on the table.

“Omer, still have cigarettes?”. Noor inquires from across the table.

“Yep. And by the way, you CAN call me Omi, you know. The only person who calls me Omer is my grandmother, and it really freaks me out.”. Omer hands Noor his pack of double-o’s. He had to stretch quite a bit, but so did Noor, and she only managed to get a solitary cigarette out of the pack. Omer sat back in his chair, and threw his Zippo at Noor, careful enough to aim it at her palms. Noor lighted the smoke, and aimed the Zippo back at Omer when…

“Ugh if you both are going to smoke, you might as well sit together, otherwise I’M going to be sick. Omer, tum idher aa jao.”. Alyzeh gets up, and makes her way for Omer’s chair.

“As long as she doesn’t beat me up…”. Omer goes over to sit next to Noor, with a certain unwanted yet strongly present glee. Why?

“So… why do you smoke Bensons? Other people like Marlboros, Dunhill…”. Noor starts.

“Well, Marlboros are too hard for my throat, and I never could finish a Dunhill in proper time. Plus, my dad smokes Bensons, so I figure if my pack gets caught, anyone would think its his and nobody would suspect me.”. Omer talks behind a cloud of smoke that Noor blows towards the window.

“Right on.”

“So, why do you smoke?”

“Well, I don’t smoke frequently, but just now and then, I do. I’d think I just like the smell, but its more like I enjoy the fire at my fingertips.”

“Well said. Love the phrase, fire at my fingertips…”, Omer surveys his own cigarette, “things like these would make me fall in love with you.”

“Really? Well, you’d just have to stand in line with the others, eh flirt!”

“But really, I’ve known Alyzeh for a while now, and I’ve never seen you around her. Are you new here…?”

“Yeah, moved here from London a few weeks ago. My family’s shifting here. My dad is Alyzeh’s mamoo.”

“Mmhmm… must be leaving quite some sad people in Englishland, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. They’re going to hold a national holiday in my honour. But frankly, I always keep in touch with my special friends. And I’m not too fond of guy-girl relationships anyway. No… its not that. I’m still straight, and don’t you DARE picture that! I just don’t approve of such associations. A boy-girl liaison should be restricted till they are old enough to take care of themselves and each other and make commitments they can actually keep up with; that means, after legal age limit, innit?”

“I think you’ve been brought up in quite a religious family”, Omer turns to look at the window, softly exhaling the smoke in the plate’s direction. “Candidly enough, its quite good I’d say, and the way you’ve embraced that upbringing is even better. You’ve just given me sufficient logic to defy any ‘modernist’. My parents never stress on my religion being a prominent part of my life, but that’s obvious; they’ve separated. My religion is a part of my life because of me, not my parents or anyone else.”

“Oh… I didn’t know that your…” Noor utters uneasily, trying to find the right words.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine with it. I'm even fine with people talking about it in front of me, so if we’re supposed to be friends, you’ve to be okay about that, aight?”. Omer stops, and then puts his hand on Noor’s shoulder. Again, that invigorating feeling…

Dinner ends, and everyone bids everyone else goodbye; Noor, Maryjane and Alyzeh leave together, and Omer, Osama and Maheen leave for Omer’s car.

“Oy! Omer!...”, yells someone from the other edge of the parking lot…

“WHAT?!”

A short-of-breath Noor stalls near Omer’s car. “Here, I wanted to give you my chat ID, so we could talk later. I would’ve taken yours from Alyzeh but… ugh… never… mind…”.

“Umm.. thanks… but you really shouldn’t have run all the way like that…”

“Doesn’t…. matter… Take care, kay?... Bye…”. Noor makes her way back to Alyzeh’s car, clutching her sides, almost limping. The poor girl had never run like that before. She had never known she was THAT fast…

Omer starts the car, and turns on the CD player as soon as he turns left for the Jinnah Flyover. Automatically, or as if it was programmed by some unforeseen force, Noori’s ‘Neend Aey Na’ is put on. Songs that Omer could fall in love with, songs he could fall in love to. Little did he know that the planning was so perfect, that somewhere a little far away, Mahrukh and Alyzeh were also waving their heads to the same song. Noor was just silently staring outside the window, looking at the beautiful night sky. She was too tired from running that fast…

We barely remember who or what came before

This precious moment,

We are choosing to be here.

Right now.

Hold on,

Stay inside

This holy reality,

This holy experience.

Choosing to be here,

In This body.

This body holding me.

Be my reminder here that I am not alone

In This body,

This body holding me,

Feeling eternal,

All this pain is an illusion.

- posted by Mumra @ 1:39 PM 0 comments

Scherezade puts down her pen to clasp her head. It’s been hurting since a night, and now she’s repentant about being inebriated. It wasn’t worth her cranium feeling like this. She cannot recall what happened the last day, or the day before, but unfortunately for her, someone else does. The phone rings. It’s Manni’s number. She answers.

“Ugh… hey Maannii… oww… my head hurts…”. Scherezade clutches the side of her head even tightly.

“Hey, Scherezade. Its me…”. A mature, heartrending tone that she can associate to. A voice she can never forget…

“O… Omi…?”

“Yeah… what happened…?”

“Nothing… I… nothing… just…”

“Got drunk?”

“Yeah… how did… did Manni told you?”

“Yeah. Plus, you sound like you still are.”

“Ahan… yeah… sorry about that… umph… you know, its weird, I don’t recall, but I think that… I think I kinda had a dream… about you… that we…”

“That we made out in my room?”

“Wha..! Omigod Omer… S… stop freaking me out… how did…”

“That’s because you actually came over, and we actually did…”

“We d… really… ?”

“How else do you expect me to know?”

“Hmm… true…”

“Shezoo… what… what does all this mean…”

“Whatever could you be talking about, Omi?”

“About what happened this morning… what you said… what we…”

“Omer… Oh my God… I’m so… I don’t… I don’t know what to say… I don’t even remember what I said to you… I’m sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t do it on purpose, I didn’t mean to hurt you, you know I never would…”

“Did you really break up with Sohail…?”

“Yeah, for almost a day, but he called a bit earlier. Said he understood I was drunk and a bit mad at him for ditching me yesterday for dinner, so it’s all fine. You don’t need to worry. We’re okay…”

Broken.

Manni fiddles with his deck, putting on ‘Closure’ by Chevelle. How paradoxical.

Closure has come to me myself.

You will never belong to me.

“Mmhmm…”. Omer strangles his rage.

“Omer… please… I’m sorry…”

“Ohho… its really okay… I just hope Sohail’s not mad when he finds out…”

“He’ll understand, he knows how drunk I was. He never gets jealous… Goddd he’s soo cute! Plus, very kind of you not to rape me while I was drunk…”

“What is THAT supposed to mean?”

“I’m just kidding… I know you never would… see? You’re still mad at me…”

And I shall fall.

And I shall be victorious.

And I shall feel no pain no more.

And I shall cease to love.

“And you’re still drunk, Shezoo. Go back to sleep.”

Oh ye who witness my pain,

Who cower from my Anger.

Behold .

As I fall...

And with a subtle click, Omer shuts off the phone.

“Doesn’t sound good, Omi”, Salman breathes out Marlboro smoke as he extends his neck so as to aim his exhalation towards the window.

“Yeah, I know. I need to go, Manni. I need to be alone, I hope you’ll understand…”

“Haan haan, sure. By the way, while you were on the phone, this Zeenat girl called on your cell. I told her you were on the other phone, so she told me to tell you that she’s in Lahore, and she’ll call you again…”

“Ahan… thanks… I’ll… I’ll be off then? Take care, acha…?”

“Omer, call me when you get home, okay?”

“Will do, brother. Allah Hafiz”.

“Khuda Hafiz”. Salman hugs Omer tightly, wrapping his bulky arms around Omi’s slim frame. “And don’t fret about it, yaar. Hota hai. Just don’t do anything stupid. Go now.”

So she takes it Away again and follows Me to My Death.

Too dark, She said, Too Dark. Over and over again.

And they Cheered me on.

Dread... Dont smile

Just dread, dread and dread.

The heart gives in to less than Allowance.

But Fails to feel the Warmth.

Too bad, they said, when the Last time it happened?

Love is where you Light it; Lust is a Game and I am not giving in.

The donut’s too sweet. Omer tries to occupy his mind with petty thoughts as he sits in the Dunkin’ Donuts outlet in Ahad Arcade near Liberty. Another cheesy song on the T.V. ‘Lahore Lahore Hay, Lahore Lahore Hay…’. Quite true, Mr. Tariq Tafu, but right now, I just hope I was back in Islamabad. No wait, Lahore is better. I just hope I didn’t have to find out that me being with Scherezade this morning was just a dream. It was real, but now, it seemed like just a dream for Omi. He gets onto the computer set up in the donut shop as soon as one man is done checking his mail. He puts on his glasses, logs on into his account, and writes a mail to Mahira. It reads, ‘hey baby sis. I’m back in Lahore, just don’t ask me why I left so soon. You told me to handle this carefully, then listen to what has happened. Let me clarify, I did NOT fuck things up. When Scherezade came over aaj subah, she was drunk, extremely drunk, and she didn’t even remember us doing all that. So it was just me who thought we were back together. She asks me not to be mad and that she’s sorry but is that really compensation enough for me? I don’t know what to do… send me a reply when you get the time, okay? Tc *huggsss* Allah Hafiz.’

Am i too foolhardy that i keep looking back?

Hoping to trace my steps and find her...

Lying on the crevices of the pavement,

Where she held my stumble yet fell herself...

Will i get her back where she left me?

Why do i still wait for her embrace...?

“I thought you said you were in Islamabad, dumass.”, says a voice behind Omer.

- posted by Mumra @ 1:34 PM 0 comments