Important native terms:
Dupatta: A traditional long scarf
Khawaja Sra : a local Cast/group of transgender people in our society who sing and dance at functions to collect money. Their curses are believed to come true if you offend them. (An old belief) (Think of them as drag queens)
Churidar pajama: locally made tights with plaits at the ends.
Chacha: Father's younger brother.
Amma: Mother
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The cool shade of the afternoon had spread everywhere. She walked in a thin heel towards her car, whose original owner was her brother Rohail who had gone to study in America so now it was in her possession; her purse hanging from her shoulder.
She had just rotated the key in the lock when she saw Zara coming from the other side of the door. She smiled and straightened after opening the door.
"Haya! I didn't receive any mail." Zara pushed the half opened door and stepped inside. There was sadness on her face. She was a normal looking, stylish girl and was Haya's age fellow.
"It's not a big deal, it will arrive in one to two days. Don't worry. We had applied together, if I have been selected you would be too " Haya told her while standing beside the half opened driver seat's door.
"But my name was not on the list outside the scholarship coordinator office today as well "
"And mine?"
"From our department it's only yours and a girl from environmental sciences, Khadija Rana's name is there. I think I was not selected at all."
"Oh" she was really saddened. After the phone call last night, she was just now talking to Zara.
"Anyways, were you going somewhere?" Bringing a smile back to her face, Zara asked.
"Yeah, I was going to market with Irum. It's Dawar Bhai's Henna function and my high heels matching with my lehenga have gone missing. The helper might have taken them. Now I'll have to buy new shoes. Will you come?" She began telling details while propping an elbow against the car.
At that moment, she was wearing a long sky blue shirt with a tight churi-daar pajama. The hem of the shirt was just above the ankles. A matching dupatta was around her neck, her hair flowed down her back and as usual, her eyes were lined with deep kohl.
"Yes, then let's hurry out of here." Zara readily agreed and stepped towards the front seat.
"We also have to take Irum." Haya closed the door after sitting inside and turned the key in the ignition.
"By the way, your usually strict Taya lets Irum go shopping with you like this?" Irum was junior than both of them and her department was different as well, so Zara wasn't much familiar with her.
"His strictness is limited to scarf only. He is very nice otherwise."
She drove the car outside the gate. Irum's house was beside Haya's, there was also a path to come and go in the center wall between the houses but whenever she had to pick Irum up she used to horn at her gate. Now, she gave a horn as well and Irum came outside in moments.
Dressed in an indigo shirt and trousers, with a matching dupatta spread out in the front, the same indigo scarf wrapped around her face, she almost came sprinting towards the back seat door.
"Hello Haya! Hello Zara!" She chirped informally as she sat inside and closed the door. Outing plans made with Haya always made her this happy.
"How are you Irum! I never get to meet you!" Zara sat sideways and faced behind.
"Your department is far, that's why and oh, Haya told me that you guys got selected for Turkey?"
"Haya got selected, not me. Anyways, there must be some good in this. Didn't you apply?"
"If only Abba had given permission!" She became sad.
"Parents shouldn't be this strict, honestly " Zara said.
Haya shot her a warning glare in case Irum who already had low self-esteem become more sad but Zara was facing behind and Irum..... As expected, Irum got more sad.
"I don't even know who Abba is like. Is it easy to wear a scarf in this heat? And then, didn't even allow me to make half sleeves of my lehenga for tomorrow's Henna. Haya's is also half sleeved. It looks so good, but Abba is nothing like Suleiman Chacha."
"Irum, what do you have to buy today? I have to buy shoes." She changed the topic while concealing her annoyance, she disliked Irum's constantly whining behavior very much.
"I have to buy bangles, but they won't even look good with the full sleeves of the lehenga." She started again while making a face so Haya turned on the CD player with a shake of her head.
When Atif Aslam's song began blasting loudly, Irum had to quiet down. When they reached Jinnah supermarket, Irum went off to look for bangles while they both arrived at Metro Shoes.
"Show that golden one, placed at number three." After a long time, a high heel caught her eye.
"This one, Mam?" The salesman took out the whole pair and placed it before her. He was crouching on the ground while Zara and Haya were sitting on a couch in front of him.
"Shall I help you wear it, ma'am?" He asked in an extremely respectful voice and brought the shoe near her beautiful heel-clad feet.
"My hands are not broken, I can wear it myself."
"Sure, here" The salesman extended the shoes to her while smiling. He was holding the shoes in such a way that while taking the shoes Haya's hand would surely touch his.
"Put it down, I will take it." At her rude tone, the salesman put the shoes in front of her while humming something under his breath.
Then after paying the bill, the boy at the counter extended the change towards her and Haya noticed, that he was holding a coin of 5 rupees above a few bills just like the salesman with the shoes.... ensuring her hand would brush against his while taking it.
"Thanks" The coin remained in the boy's hand as Haya took the bills by tugging at their corners.
"Ma'am, your coin." The boy extended the coin victoriously towards her thinking she'll surely take it now and .....
"Put it in the charity box before you." She turned around indifferently. Zara let out an uncontrollable laugh.
"The boy's face was worth watching, Haya!"
"I wanted to slap his face with all the shoes of the shop, I don't know when our men's mentality will change. They stare like they've never seen a girl before."
Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she climbed down the stairs while complaining angrily to Zara when a voice came from nearby .
"So don't go out all dressed up like that, madam." She halted at the last step, startled. It was an aged lady, wrapped in a large shawl, who glanced at her in distaste and started climbing up the stairs slowly.
"And people love preaching while walking on the street." She would have said much more but Zara took hold of her elbow and dragged her away. Just then, Irum was seen coming from ahead. Her previously spread dupatta was now bunched up around her neck. She hadn't done much shopping, maybe she only came for outing with them.
They came to "Scoop" from Metro to eat something light. Tonight dinner was at Taya Furqan's house that he had arranged for the family gathered for his son's wedding.
"Order a pineapple slush for me, I'm going to buy something from the bakery." Irum dashed outside in a hurry. Haya took a deep breath and lowered her window. A gust of cold wind blew inside but drinking slush in this cold was on another level.
They were in the parking lot and chilly breeze had enveloped the whole area. The evening had grown late and darkness was setting in.
"Irum looks quite complexed, no?" Zara turned towards her when Irum got away.
"And you were fanning those of her complexes." She got upset at her instead.
"Taya Furqan is only strict about the scarf. She's a prey to self-pity just because of that and you were sympathizing with her."
"I just thought that poor her...."
"She's not poor and make her understand that now as well, she should get out of this unreasonable self-pity."
A waiter holding a menu had arrived outside her half opened window.
"Do you remember Zara! When university gave us hope for a trip to Turkey last year and cancelled the whole plan last minute." After placing the order, she started reminiscing while rolling up the window.
"I was so disappointed that I never thought I will ever go to Turkey." Her voice was filled with joy of holding on to hope again.
She and Zara were in fifth year of LLB honors (Shari'a and Law) at International Islamic University. They were in the middle of seventh semester when the sponsored scholarship of European Union was announced. By which, students from European and Asian universities were to be exchanged. This way, some students from here will go to European Universities for a few months and return after completing a semester.
When it was her turn to apply to European Universities, the form for Sabancı university of Turkey looked the easiest to her, but then also applied to a Spanish University at the same time. And now finally, Sabancı had selected her.
After completing the seventh semester here, she had to go to Turkey for five months in February (currently it was December ) , where her own subjects (Shari'a and law) weren't available as Turkey's law was different from Pakistan , so she could study any subject of her liking for five months. And after coming back to Pakistan, she would have to start the eighth semester of her LLB.
"How fun it would be Haya! If you find some handsome, romantic, travel partner, then your journey will be so beautiful."
"There will be no travel partner, because only us two girls are going to Sabancı from Pakistan and then we are students of all women university."
"That Khadija Rana, who is going with you. Did you talk to her?"
Haya startled when the waiter knocked on the window, then started rolling it down.
"No, I don't even know Khadija Rana. I don't know who she is." She took the glasses of slush. Gave Zara's to her and placed Irum's on the dashboard, then put her own glass to her lips. In negligence, She didn't know when she forgot to roll up the window.
Suddenly, Zara's phone rang. She put the phone to her ear while taking a sip.
"Hello Amma? Yes? What? One minute, the voice is distorted...." Apparently, signals were not good on Zara's phone. She opened the door and holding the slush glass went outside.
Haya kept watching Zara from across the windscreen while taking small sips from her glass. She was now talking near a tree far away.
"Hello my lady" Someone suddenly said from very close to her. She jumped with fear. A little bit of juice spilled onto her clothes.
A smiling woman was bent over the open window. A face with caked with makeup, shiny eyeshadow, bold lipstick, a hair bun and sparkly clothes.... It was not a woman but it was not a man either.
"How are you, dear?" He was standing fully bent over her window. The glass shook in her hand, instinctively she wanted to roll up the window but his hands were in between.
"Don't be afraid, sister! I'm your friend. People call me Dolly."
"Back off, back off, go away."She panicked. The strong scent of cheap perfume wafted from the Khwaja Sra* and she felt nauseated.
"Just listen for a moment." He lowered his face even further and before he reached forward, Haya threw her glass full of slush at his face. He backed off with a jerk as freezing, cold ice poured over him. She rolled up the window swiftly.
"Listen dear…." he wiped his face with a smile and started knocking on the window. Due to the closed window, his voice was now lowered and he was humming a song now.
She turned the key in the ignition with shaking hands and brought the car out of there. She turned around to see after stopping the car at the entrance door of the bakery.
That Khwaja Sra* named Dolly was still standing near the trees. He didn't come after her and wasn't singing now either. Just watched her with deep, quiet eyes. A shudder ran through her instinctively.
"Where did the both of them go?" Frustrated, she pressed on the horn, then turned and looked behind again. He was still watching her only.
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