by Sara Naveed
‘Who Rehaan?’ she asked.
I was taken aback by her question. How could she forget me in a day? Was she pulling my leg or had she actually forgotten me? ‘Zynah, it’s me, Rehaan . . . your friend. We met yesterday . . .’ my voice trailed off.
‘Oh, shit! Rehaan! I’m so sorry, yaar . . . I was in the gym. What’s up?’
‘Uh, it’s okay, never mind. I just got free. Was wondering if you were free today?’ I asked nervously.
‘Why don’t you meet me at Hard Rock Café at 5 p.m. I’ll be there with a few friends. Come, join us.’
‘Uh . . .’ I didn’t know what to say.
‘Rehaan?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Don’t be shy,’ she laughed. ‘You’re coming. See you. Bye!’ she said and hung up.
Her forwardness brought colour to my cheeks, and I looked down at the phone in my hand, a smile playing on my lips. I contemplated what to do for a few minutes and then rushed up the stairs to get ready.
I reached Old Park Lane where the café was situated at 5.30 p.m. Zynah and her friends were sitting at a corner table, deep in conversation. I had never met her friends before and felt a little awkward. But then I mustered up the courage and walked up to their table.
‘Hi,’ I said, looking at Zynah.
Her face lit up with a warm smile on seeing me.
‘Rehaan!’ she exclaimed, getting up and leaning forward to give me a quick hug. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ I said.
‘Guys, meet Rehaan. We used to study together in Pakistan,’ Zynah introduced me to her friends.
‘Hi, Rehaan!’ the girls said in unison.
‘Hi,’ I said, waving my hand.
‘What will you have?’ one of the girls asked.
‘This is Soniya, my best friend,’ Zynah said.
In the excitement she had forgotten to let go of my hand. And her touch sent thousands of shivers down my spine.
After we had settled down, Zynah ordered a burger for me. Soon everyone got busy talking. I contributed to the conversation occasionally but mostly kept quiet. Sensing my plight, Soniya suggested we play a game of truth or dare. Zynah agreed instantly. She rotated an empty beer bottle and as luck would have it, it stopped at me.
‘So, Rehaan, truth or dare?’ Soniya asked.
I looked around the table, assessing their facial expressions. Zynah eyed me curiously. I didn’t want to get myself in trouble, so I chose the safer option.
‘Truth,’ I replied.
‘Whoa!’ Zynah exclaimed.
‘All right. So, tell us about your first crush?’ Soniya asked.
I instantly regretted my decision of choosing truth, or even agreeing to play this game. How could I tell them the truth?
‘Rehaan, tell us na!’ Zynah insisted.
‘Uh, yeah . . .’ I mumbled.
‘Hurry! You can’t take so much time . . .’ one of them said.
‘She was in my school . . .’ I said, lowering my eyes.
‘What? Really?’ Zynah said, her eyes wide with shock.
I nodded.
‘How come I didn’t know about this?’ she asked.
‘I guess you never asked me,’ I said with a nervous shrug.
‘And you never told me,’ she said, looking at me accusingly.
For a moment, our eyes locked.
‘Please continue, Rehaan. Tell us more about her,’ Soniya said, bringing me back to the present.
‘Well, yeah,’ I said, looking away. ‘What else do you want to know?’
Suddenly, Zynah’s cell phone beeped.
‘Guys, wait. It’s a call from home,’ she said as she slid out of her seat and walked away from the table to find some quiet. My eyes followed her. I noticed she was distraught and frown lines had appeared on her forehead. I excused myself and walked up to her.
‘Is everything okay?’ I asked her, folding my arms.
‘Mummy’s getting a panic attack. I need to go home,’ she said and rushed towards the door.
‘Hey, Zynah!’ I said, running after her. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘Rehaan, you don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine.’
‘I can come with you.’
‘You want to?’ she asked as she stopped to look at me.
‘Yeah, only if you are okay with it,’ I said, looking into her eyes.
‘Let’s go,’ she said.
She stopped the car in front of her house on Willow Road, Hampstead, and ran out. I followed her. But she had already entered the house by the time I reached the gate.
I stood outside, wondering what to do. What was I doing here? I should have gone back. I cursed myself for coming with her.
‘Rehaan!’ Zynah called out.
‘Yeah?’ I turned around to look at her.
‘Why are you standing there? Come inside!’
‘But . . .’
‘Come inside!’
I nodded, making my way towards the door. I took in the décor as I walked into the living room. Her house was not big but was warm and cosy. A familiar fragrance hit my nose, reminding me of our days in Pakistan.
Right then, Zynah’s father came into the room. I remembered his face clearly. Except for a few strands of grey hair, he hadn’t changed much.
‘Daddy, is all good?’ Zynah asked.
‘Yeah, honey. She has had her medicine and is sleeping now.’
‘Thank God,’ Zynah said, heaving a sigh of relief.
‘Who is this young man? I have seen him somewhere,’ he said, squinting his eyes.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to introduce you to him. Daddy, this is Rehaan. We were in school together in Lahore. He has recently shifted to London for his master’s programme.’
‘Oh, that sounds great. Good to meet you, son,’ he said, taking my hand in his.
‘The pleasure is mine, sir.’
‘Why don’t you have a cup of coffee with us? Zynah?’ he asked, and looked in her direction.
‘Sure. I’ll brew a pot,’ she said.
‘No, it’s okay. I should leave,’ I said.
‘It’s all right, beta. Come, sit with me,’ Zynah’s father said, pointing at the couch.
‘So, for how long are you in London?’ he asked, taking a seat.
‘I have no idea. All depends on whether I get a job here or not,’ I said.
‘Great.’
‘Coffee is here!’ Zynah announced.
‘Thanks,’ I said as she handed me a cup.
‘Zynah, why don’t you get the cookies your mother baked yesterday?’
‘Sure, Daddy,’ she said, walking towards the dining room.
‘So, where are you staying?’ Zynah’s father turned back to me.
‘I’m sharing a house with another person in the East London,’ I told him.
‘That’s a nice place. You can come visit us any time you want.’
‘Thanks, sir.’
‘Call me uncle, not sir,’ he said, smiling.
I smiled back and nodded.
‘How’s the coffee?’ Zynah asked me.
‘It’s really nice. Thanks.’ After a while, I took my leave and Zynah accompanied me to the gate. There was a nip in the air, and I noticed Zynah folded her arms as she shivered slightly.
‘Have you booked a taxi?’ she asked me.
‘Yeah, I have.’
‘Okay . . .’ her voice trailed off.
We both remained silent for a while before she spoke again.
‘I’m sorry about my mother,’ she whispered as we walked down the porch.
‘What are you sorry for?’ I asked.
‘You know, my mother and her stupid panic attacks. She gets worried for no reason.’
‘May I ask something?’
She nodded.
‘Why does she have these panic attacks?’
‘I don’t know. I mean, it’s all my brother’s fault.’
‘Why, what’s wrong?’
She sat down on the
steps outside her house and I followed suit.
‘It all started when he decided to settle down in Australia with his wife and not here with us. She misses him.’
‘Why doesn’t he move here?’ I asked.
‘His wife won’t let him. She’s not really fond of us.’
‘That’s bad,’ I said, making a face.
‘Yeah, very bad,’ she said and pretended to laugh.
‘I hope your mother feels better.’
‘Oh, it’s okay. Doctors have told her multiple times to take it easy. Sometimes, I think she does this on purpose, maybe to seek my brother’s attention. Whenever she gets a panic attack, my brother gets worried and starts calling her.’
I chuckled softly.
‘Anyway, what are you doing tomorrow?’ she asked, changing the topic.
‘I have college. I’m free after 3 p.m.’
‘Oh God . . . I have work tomorrow!’ she said, hiding her face with her delicate hands.
She looked adorably cute sitting there on the steps, the evening sun casting a warm glow on her face. I looked away as my phone beeped—the taxi had arrived.
‘So, when will I see you next?’ I asked as I stood up.
‘I’ll try to get done earlier tomorrow so that I can take you around.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course!’ she said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. ‘Dude, you’re in my city. It’s my responsibility to show you the real London!’
‘All right,’ I said, looking at her. ‘See you tomorrow then.’
‘See you,’ she said, waving her hand.
London City Tour
I was in the hallway when a poster hung on the noticeboard caught my attention. It was a promo for a photography session in Seattle, Washington. The winner would be awarded a certificate in photography from the University of Washington. Interested candidates had to submit a few of their best photographs to the given email address. I rushed to the computer lab and switched my laptop on. I chose some of my best shots, attached them to an email I drafted and sent it to the submission email ID mentioned on the promo poster. I secretly prayed for my pictures to get selected. My thoughts were interrupted by the cell phone buzzing in my pocket—it was Zynah. She asked me if I was free. I did not have any plans and even if I did, I would have dropped them immediately to spend time with her. She told me to meet her outside the same music store around 4 p.m. I packed the laptop back into my backpack, zipped it shut, headed out of the university and caught the Tube on time. Zynah was waiting for me on the bench outside the music store. As usual, she had earplugs stuffed in her ears, shutting out the world around her.
‘Hey,’ I said once I was close enough to her.
‘Oh, hi,’ she said, removing the earplugs from her ears.
‘What’s up?’ I asked. ‘What’s the plan?’
‘Here’s the plan,’ she got off the bench and said, holding up two plastic cards at me. ‘I’ve got two London Passes.’
‘How do they work?’ I asked, taking one from her.
‘A London Pass is a sightseeing pass. Well, it’s more like a pass to the city’s top attractions that requires less of our time for research and is cheaper than trying it ourselves.’
‘Wow! How long have you been planning this?’ I asked, surprised.
‘Planning what?’ she asked.
‘This sightseeing trip?’
‘Dude, I just bought them last night,’ she said and nudged me playfully.
I threw my head back and laughed.
‘You don’t have to laugh. This is a fun thing. Once you have this card with you, you won’t have to pay separately to access the attractions and sights included in this pass. Gotcha?’
‘Gotcha,’ I said with a nod.
‘Let’s start with the hop-on and hop-off bus tour.’
‘Cool.’ I felt a surge of happiness inside me as we walked to the bus stop.
We literally hopped on to the double decker bus and saw several of London’s tourist spots from the comfort of our seats as the bus drove through the city’s streets. This was the best chance to capture London’s essence through my lens. I fished the camera out of my bag and started taking photographs. The bus passed the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, Big Ben and Trafalgar Square. I could not believe that I was touring the city with Zynah by my side. While taking photographs of the landmarks on my camera, I also took candid photographs of Zynah, and she looked beautiful in all of them.
She caught the lens pointed at her and said, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’
‘Nothing, I was just taking pictures of Big Ben,’ I lied.
‘Are you sure?’ she laughed.
‘Yeah,’ I nodded. ‘I’m sure.’
‘Should I check your camera?’ she said, looking at me from the corner of her eyes.
I laughed, looking away.
Later in the evening, after we had hopped off the bus, she took me to one of her favourite places in North London—St Pancras Old Church. I wondered why she had brought me there. Had she secretly changed her faith to Christianity?
‘Zynah, why exactly are we here?’ I asked her as we approached the entrance of the church.
‘It’s quite peaceful here, Rehaan. I’m sure you’ll love it.’
‘But it’s a church,’ I reminded her.
She stopped midway to look at me.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘Seriously?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘Do you think it matters where we end up finding peace for ourselves? Regardless of the place being a mosque or a church?’
‘Uh, well . . .’ I searched for the right words.
‘I didn’t expect you to follow such fundamental beliefs.’
I fell silent.
‘Rehaan, we should not view it through a religious prism. As far as I know, peace is a subject common to all religions. Isn’t that so?’
‘Yeah, I guess,’ I said and ran my fingers through my hair.
‘I find peace here,’ she said, gesturing towards the church building. ‘But that doesn’t make me any less of a Muslim. Where do you find your peace?’
I looked at her, furrowing my brows, without answering her.
‘Is there any place where you find peace? Or any person you find peace with?’ She looked at me.
I couldn’t turn my gaze away from her, but I also didn’t have an answer to her question. I remained quiet, continuing to stare at her.
‘You’re impossible. You know that? Come, let’s go inside,’ she said and took me by my arm, leading me into the building.
The church had a quaint look and a quiet ambience. We walked down the aisle till she stopped and ushered me to one of the benches, asking me to close my eyes. I waited to see what she did. She closed her eyes and started to pray. It was the first time I’d seen her praying. She looked a vision of serenity—seated at the bench, her eyes closed—and I felt I could almost hear her pray. I felt a little lost and didn’t know what to do. If I closed my eyes to pray, I’d miss the chance to watch her from close while she was in a spiritual moment. She looked beautiful. If she had asked me then whom I found peace with, I would have an answer for her. I would have told her I found peace with her. I wish I had told her when she asked me outside the church. The moment I realized that she was about to open her eyes, I shut mine and pretended to pray.
The Unexpected
A few days later, I was out with Zynah for lunch at one of her favourite restaurants.
‘How’s the food?’ Zynah asked me as she took a bite from her naan-e-barbari, one of the signature dishes made by the restaurant.
‘It’s good. It’s different,’ I nodded and said.
‘I told you so,’ she said, smiling at me.
‘Is there any place you haven’t taken me to yet?’
‘Oh, c’mon. There are loads of places that I’d like you to visit. There is still a lot of London for you to see.’
‘I am sure of that.
’
Most of the time, when we were out for lunch or dinner, I never let Zynah pay. She insisted but I would not have it. I knew I was overstepping my budget but my part-time job helped me manage.
‘So, you enjoyed the food?’ she asked me after lunch.
‘Yeah, the food was good, but, honestly, I felt the place was a bit boring,’ I replied, amazed at my audacity.
‘No doubt it is. Hey, Rehaan!’ She stopped midway, looking at me.
I glanced at her sideways, raising a brow.
‘Wanna have some real fun?’ she asked me in an excited tone.
I looked at her, surprised, wondering what she was up to.
‘Fun?’ I asked her.
‘Yes, real fun!’ she said, with a wink.
Zynah’s idea of ‘real fun’ was a trip to a nightclub. Yes, a nightclub. I couldn’t imagine myself ever going to a nightclub, let alone with Zynah. For a moment, I was judgmental about Zynah. How often did she go to nightclubs? Was it routine for her or did she only want to show me the club? Zynah said that the club, The Nest, had recently opened but was the place to be. So it was always packed with clubbers. The atmosphere inside gave me a rush—the main hall was dimly lit except for the flashing strobe lights. People of all ethnicities were on the dance floor, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the beat. The bar area was packed with people keeping the bartenders busy with unending orders of alcohol and fizzy drinks. Every corner of the club buzzed with energy.
‘I see that you really like the place,’ Zynah shouted in my ears, bringing me back from my reverie.
‘No!’ I blurted. ‘I was just . . . you know, checking out . . .’.
‘Checking out the hot girls?’ she completed my sentence before I could and nudged my arm playfully, placing a cigarette between her lips.
My face flushed with embarrassment.
‘No, not girls. I meant the place,’ I said. I could feel my cheeks on fire.
‘I wouldn’t mind if you checked out the girls,’ she said, patting me on my shoulder. ‘Come, let’s get drinks.’
‘Okay,’ I said, following her towards the bar.
We made it to the bar counter after wading through the crowd of drunk people, many of whom we bumped into.
‘What would you like to have?’ Zynah shouted over the deafening music from the speakers.
‘Um, a lime soda?’