by Sara Naveed
‘Why don’t you go and talk to her?’ one of the men suggested.
‘Oh. C’mon, guys!’ he rolled his eyes.
‘Yeah, why not give it a try?’
‘God,’ he sighed. ‘Are you serious?’
Zarish heaped her plate with roasted beans. To her surprise, the man in the blue T-shirt walked up to the salad bar and stood next to her. She moved a little to maintain some distance but could not stop blushing. He smelt amazing, like citrus and wood. He came forward to help himself to some salad. Her body tensed up.
Zarish kept looking at him but he did not look at her even once, which made her uncomfortable.
‘How can a man ignore my good looks?’ she wondered.
As he turned to leave, Zarish also turned in panic and bumped into him.
‘Woah!’ he exclaimed.
Zarish gasped loudly. His salad plate fell from his hands and ruined her top completely.
‘What the f***!’ she said loudly.
‘Oh, damn. I’m sorry,’ he blurted out.
‘Sorry?’ she scowled. ‘You’ve ruined my top. Do you think apologizing will make any difference?’
‘Woah. Hold on. Hold on. What else do you want me to say?’ he asked. ‘It wasn’t my fault anyway. You suddenly turned and that’s why we collided.’
As he spoke, she observed his dark brown, mesmerizing eyes and his thick black brows. He had a perfectly shaped nose and firm full lips. His perfectly styled hair covered the nape of his neck.
‘Do you understand what I am trying to say?’ he said, interrupting her reverie.
‘What? Are you blaming me?’
‘I’m not blaming anyone. Simply stating the facts,’ he answered in a casual tone, folding his arms.
‘Huh?’ she frowned.
‘Sorry once again. You can get your clothes washed,’ he said and walked towards his table.
‘What the hell?’ she whispered. She turned to see that he was laughing with his friends. They seemed to be making fun of her. Just then, Fatima came up to her.
‘Damn, Zarish. Your top is ruined,’ she said.
‘I know. Damn him!’ she screamed and hurried towards the washroom.
‘I don’t understand these girls,’ the man said to his friends. ‘They never accept their mistake. Did you see what she did? She spun around and bumped into me.’
‘C’mon, mate. Don’t worry. Girls are crazy, and I’m sure she did it on purpose,’ one of his friends said.
‘Why?’
‘Because she wanted your attention. Simple.’
Zarish’s friends followed her to the washroom and found her standing near the sink.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ Saniya asked.
‘I can’t believe what that guy did to my top,’ Zarish grimaced as she tried to wash off the stain.
‘It was your fault, Zarish. Don’t blame him.’
‘What?’ Zarish scowled.
‘Let’s go back. It’s getting late,’ Fatima suggested.
They all walked to the parking lot. Zarish was about to get into the car but she stopped.
‘Wait,’ she said.
‘What happened now?’ Saniya asked.
‘Let me teach him a lesson first.’
‘How?’ Fatima asked.
‘He ruined my clothes. I’m going to ruin his,’ Zarish replied.
‘C’mon, Zarish. This is not a game of revenge. We’re leaving anyway,’ Saniya said.
‘No. We’re not done here. Not yet,’ Zarish hissed.
Just then, the man and his friends came out of the restaurant. He bid them goodbye and walked towards his car. Zarish asked Saniya to drive up to where his car was parked. They did not like the idea, but Zarish insisted. Saniya did as she was told and skidded her car to a stop right next to him, splattering him with mud.
They sped off quickly, and did not get a chance to see his reaction.
‘What the . . .’ he said, shocked.
The incident didn’t let her sleep. She stayed awake all night, thinking about what she’d done. She felt embarrassed and remorseful. After all, she could not solely blame him for ruining her clothes. It was her fault too.
‘I hate myself right now. I should not have done that. I wish I could meet him and apologize for my stupidity,’ she thought.
‘C’mon honey, wake up. It is almost 10 a.m. You should not sleep till so late. You will be late for your classes. Hurry up,’ her mother said as she drew open the curtains.
‘Let me sleep for a while, Mom. I slept quite late last night,’ Zarish mumbled in a drowsy voice.
‘Darling, you have to attend your classes today,’ she said and sat on the bed. Zarish yawned and made a face.
‘Get up, darling. Get ready,’ Zarina said as she got up and walked towards the door.
‘And by the way,’ she said, ‘Haroon has been calling since morning. He says you are not answering his calls.’
At the university, Zarish told Haroon the entire story from last night. He collapsed in fits of laughter.
‘How could you be so stupid? I feel bad for him,’ Haroon said.
‘I know. Me too,’ she said as she bit her lower lip.
Haroon met Shehryar, also known as Sherry, one of his friends from school, on the way to class. He introduced his other friends, Maha, Danish and Saleha, to Haroon and Zarish. Everyone settled down and became quiet as a female professor entered the classroom. Dressed in a white and blue cotton salwar kameez with her hair flowing down to her waist, she looked quite young. The boys could not stop gawking at her. She put her files on the lectern and stood facing the class.
‘Hello everyone. I am Maleeha Ejaz. I will be teaching “communication for managers’’.’
Haroon and Zarish exchanged looks.
‘I have done my master’s in linguistics in England and currently I’m doing my MPhil at this university. I have been teaching here for the last two years.’ She paused for a second and then spoke again, ‘So, this was my introduction, now I would like you to introduce yourselves.’
‘Guys, I found Miss Maleeha quite hot,’ Sherry said. They had gathered at the cafeteria for lunch after their class.
‘She was just okay,’ Maha said, making a face.
‘Actually, I agree with Sherry. Miss Maleeha is really pretty,’ Haroon said, taking a sip of his coffee.
‘She looks really young. I wonder if she’s married,’ Saleha said thoughtfully.
‘We have to find out,’ Sherry said and winked at Haroon.
‘She’s our teacher, guys. Let’s not get involved in her personal life,’ Zarish said irritably. ‘Plus, you guys can’t hook up with a teacher. Gross. C’mon.’
‘Zarish, you really shouldn’t be concerned. We know better,’ Haroon said and put his arm around her but she pushed him away.
After a while, Haroon and Sherry got busy exchanging notes on girls. Zarish felt left out.
‘Haroon, did you see that girl in the pink dress?’ Sherry asked.
‘No, which one are you talking about?’ Haroon asked as he stuffed his mouth with samosas.
‘I don’t know her name. I just saw her today morning. She is so hot. I think we should go talk to her.’
Zarish felt irritated with their conversation. They didn’t have anything to discuss other than women.
‘Let’s see who gets to her first,’ Sherry said.
‘Hey, hey, hey, are you trying to challenge me, dude?’ Haroon raised his eyebrow.
‘Whatever you want, Haroon,’ Sherry said with a smile.
‘Nobody can outrun me in this matter. I’m that good with girls. Ask Zarish,’ Haroon said and pointed at her.
‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled.
‘Let’s see, man,’ Sherry said, taking a sip of his drink.
The first thing Zarish did after getting home in the evening was check her Facebook and Twitter accounts. Suddenly, her phone beeped. It was a message from Haroon.
Hey Zarish,
I’m really sorry for my behaviour today. Please
don’t be angry because you don’t look cute when you are angry. I was just kidding. Nobody can replace you, darling.
Love you,
Haroon
The message made her smile. He surely knew how to make her feel better. He knew how to fix her bad mood. Only Haroon could do this. Only him. However, she could not make herself fall in love with him. He had all the qualities she wanted in a man: he was good-looking, filthy rich and fun-loving. But he had failed to win her heart. She’d always believed in the phrase ‘opposites attract’, and wanted her partner to be unique; someone who was completely opposite to her. Haroon was a show-off, a spendthrift, just like she was. He lived in the moment. She wanted someone who was mature enough to understand her. Haroon was childish and immature, and she knew he would never grow up. Zarish wanted a man, not a boy.
However, her father was of a different opinion. He felt Haroon was the perfect match for his daughter. He and Haroon’s father had a mutual understanding that their children would get married someday. They were just waiting for them to make up their minds.
The next day Zarish went to the university rather early. She wanted a book regarding her course from the library. On her way to the class, she called Haroon but he was still on his way. She decided to go to the class all by herself.
Their first lecture was on ‘investment analysis’, to be taken by Wahab. The class started on a slow note and soon put the students to sleep. All of a sudden, the dean of the university, Faris Ahmed, came in.
‘Class, how are you all?’ he asked.
The students responded positively.
‘I hope Sir Wahab is teaching you well,’ he said and looked in the professor’s direction. Wahab looked a little uncomfortable about this intrusion.
‘I have some news for you. The teacher we had hired for the ‘‘financial statements analysis’’ class has gone abroad to complete his PhD. Ahmar Hussain Muraad will be taking this course now. He is also one of our trustee’s sons.’
‘Like we care,’ Zarish thought and rolled her eyes.
After their classes, Haroon, Zarish and the rest of the gang went to the cafeteria.
‘Sir Wahab’s lectures are so boring. I simply can’t stand him,’ Maha complained.
‘Yeah, same here,’ Danish added.
‘Why don’t we talk to the authorities and get him replaced?’ Haroon suggested.
Zarish collected her books from the table and put them in her bag.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Haroon. Plus, it’s impossible,’ Zarish snapped back.
‘Everything is possible, Madam,’ Haroon said.
‘How?’ she asked.
‘We can go and talk to Sir Faris about this,’ Haroon suggested.
‘Do what you want, guys,’ Zarish replied.
Just then, the girl Haroon and Sherry had a crush on, crossed their table. Haroon became alert and his eyes followed her. He suddenly stood up, combed his hair with his fingers and adjusted his clothes.
‘What? Where are you going?’ Zarish inquired.
‘I’ll be right back.’
All of them looked at Haroon with confused expressions as he walked off. Zarish’s eyes followed him and she soon realized what he was up to. She glared at him furiously.
‘Oh. Haroon is back on his mission,’ Danish said with a grin.
The gang talked excitedly about Haroon and his love interest, giggling and high-fiving each other, but Zarish was infuriated. She got up and walked towards the corridor.
‘Why the hell am I getting angry with Haroon? After all, it is his life and he has the right to live it on his own terms. He is handsome and can get any girl. He is my best friend, and I should be happy for him. But I am not. I don’t like him talking to other girls. It makes me jealous. I thought I was the only one in his life; that he liked spending all his time with me. But this is not the case. So why am I sulking here alone? Even I should talk to other guys. Nobody has the right to tell me how I should live my life,’ with these thoughts clouding her mind, she walked all the way to the parking lot. Suddenly, she froze. She got a sense of déjà vu as she spotted his car.
‘No. This cannot be his car. No way,’ she thought in dismay. The night she went out with her friends flashed across her mind. Just then a man wearing a dark blue linen shirt and black pants got out of the car.
Zarish gasped in horror. It was him; the guy they had splattered with mud. She felt ashamed again and started trembling as beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. She saw him coming in her direction and quickly turned her face. He did not see her and walked down the corridor, towards the main block of the university.
‘What on earth is he doing here? I should find out,’ Zarish thought as she bit her lower lip.
Zarish had to find out why he had come to the university. She followed him as he walked towards the south block of the main building. He stopped in front of the dean’s office, knocked at the door and then entered. She tried to eavesdrop but all she could hear was murmuring. She wondered why he had come to meet the dean. Did he know she studied here? Had he come to file a complaint against her? Of course, he looked young enough to be a student. Maybe he was enrolling late.
The door of the dean’s office flew open and they both stepped out. He shook hands with the dean and then started walking towards the parking lot. As their paths crossed, Zarish caught a whiff of his perfume. It was similar to what she had smelt the other night: citrus and wood. She loved the fragrance.
Haroon splashed some water on her face.
‘What the . . .’ she screamed.
He burst into hysterical laughter. They were sitting inside the cafeteria.
‘What the hell, Haroon?’ Zarish fumed.
‘C’mon. I was just kidding; trying to cheer you up,’ he said and tried to hug her but she pushed him. She wiped the water droplets from her face with the back of her hand and looked away.
‘Is something wrong? Is it something I did?’ Haroon said and put his hand on top of hers.
‘Look. It’s not you. It’s me. So, don’t bother about it,’ Zarish said and pulled her hand away.
‘Will you please tell me what is the matter,’ he asked calmly.
‘It’s not important. I have to go now. I’m really exhausted.’ Zarish stood up and started walking.
‘Hey, wait!’ he called out, but she didn’t stop. However, he did not give up.
‘Come. I’ll drop you home,’ he offered.
‘My driver is waiting for me outside. See you later,’ she said and quickened her pace, leaving Haroon behind.
Zarish reached home and went straight to her room. She threw her bag on the floor and lay down on her bed.
‘I guess I should tell Saniya about him,’ she thought and picked up her phone to call her.
‘Hey, Zarish! How are you doing, darling?’
‘Hey, I’m good. What’s up?’ Zarish said, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
‘All good, buddy. What’s going on?’
‘Guess whom I saw at the university today,’ Zarish said.
‘Who?’
‘Gosh . . . you won’t believe it, Saniya. It was him; the guy from the restaurant!’
‘What? Oh my god. That’s unbelievable. What was he doing there? Does he study there or what?’
‘I don’t know but I will figure it out. I was just wondering if he knew I studied there . . .’ Zarish’s voice trailed off.
‘Hey, no. That is not possible,’ Saniya assured her.
‘I hope so,’ Zarish said thoughtfully.
Zarish entered her first class, communication theory, fresh and happy the next morning. Their teacher, Jamal, looked quite strict and sombre, but possessed a benign personality. His voice had a fine quality to it. The students adored him. Recently the students had found out that Jamal was engaged to Maleeha. They made an adorable couple, but she looked quite young compared to him.
‘I guess it’s a love marriage. What do you think, Zarish?’ Sherry asked her later that d
ay. Both of them were sitting at the juice corner.
Zarish took a long sip of her mango shake before replying, ‘Yeah, right. Both of them are so beautiful, obviously they had to fall in love.’
Zarish’s answer made him a bit curious. He turned towards her.
‘So, is it necessary for two people to be good-looking to fall in love?’ he asked and moved closer to her.
Zarish felt uneasy.
‘No. It’s not necessary,’ Zarish said.
‘Hmm.’ Sherry sighed.
‘Listen, I need to go to the computer lab. I have to take some printouts. I’ll see you around later then?’ she said and stood up.
‘Okay. Sure, Zarish,’ Sherry said casually.
‘I hate it when he flirts with me. I hate it when any guy flirts with me,’ she thought as she walked towards the lab. She crumpled the disposable juice box angrily and threw it in the other direction. It hit the windshield of a car, covering it with the sticky liquid.
‘Gosh . . . this car looks familiar,’ Zarish thought. She didn’t want to face the music if the car belonged to him. With this thought, she hurried towards the lab.
‘Hope you’ve understood all the details,’ Faris Ahmed said in a solemn voice.
‘Yes, Sir. I’ve got it,’ the man replied.
‘I am happy you stepped in. We were desperately looking for a teacher,’ Faris said.
‘That’s why I’m here, Sir. Right at your service.’
‘I appreciate that, Ahmar,’ Faris said. ‘Welcome to our university.’
Ahmar smiled and nodded as they shook hands.
He casually walked towards the parking area. On his way, he saw students hanging out together at the cafeteria. He felt nostalgic and wished he could go back to those carefree days.
Someone honked from behind, making him come back to reality. As he unlocked his car, he noticed his windshield covered with mango shake.
‘What the hell? Who did this to my car?’ he gasped.
At home, he was greeted by his servant, Bashir.
‘Bashir Chacha . . . Please get me a cup of tea immediately,’ Ahmar ordered.
His father, Hussain Muraad, one of the trustees of the university, was sitting on the couch, watching TV. He went and sat beside him.