Undying Affinity

by Sara Naveed

  Zarish sat up, tied her hair into a bun, and turned on her laptop. She checked her Facebook profile and was pleasantly surprised to see that Ahmar had accepted her request. She could not believe it. She opened his profile page and clicked on his pictures. He looked really handsome in all of them. After minutes of contemplating, she decided to write him a personal message.

  Hello Sir,

  I am glad you accepted my request. Looking forward to your lecture tomorrow.

  P.S. Thank you for forgiving me.

  Take care,

  Zarish Munawwar

  She smiled as she read the message again and hit send. She folded her arms and hugged herself tight. She was in a state of bliss and wanted to remain there forever.

  She waited for his response for a while, but he did not reply. Finally, she switched off her laptop and lay down on her bed, falling asleep within seconds.

  Ahmar was watching TV with his father.

  ‘How’s it going at the university?’ Muraad asked his son.

  ‘So far, so good.’

  ‘Do you like any girl there?’ Muraad asked teasingly.

  Ahmar laughed half-heartedly.

  ‘Dad. I’ve not come here to check out girls. C’mon,’ he said.

  ‘I know, son. I was just generally asking. Do you like anyone?’ he asked, not giving up easily.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Sure?’

  Ahmar gave his father a questioning look.

  ‘I have seen so many pretty girls there.’

  ‘Then why don’t you find one for yourself?’ Ahmar said and chuckled.

  ‘It’s your age to get married, not mine,’ Muraad said and patted him on his thigh.

  ‘I don’t want to get married, Dad. I’ve told you numerous times,’ Ahmar said in a grave voice.

  ‘How long are you going to stay alone? One day you have to settle down,’ Muraad said calmly.

  Without replying, Ahmar got up and went to the other room. He opened his laptop to check his Facebook profile. He was surprised to see Zarish’s message. He sent a quick reply:

  You are welcome.

  He tried to work on his project but his mind kept going back to Zarish.

  The next day, Zarish emptied her closet and threw all her clothes on the bed. She couldn’t decide what to wear. She finally picked out a yellow plaid top with a pair of high-waisted denims.

  Haroon was waiting for her outside in his car.

  As soon as she sat in the car, Haroon hit the accelerator and the engine roared to life.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ Zarish asked, irritated.

  ‘I like driving fast,’ he said and grinned.

  ‘Whatever. You didn’t even notice my new clothes,’ she complained and looked out of the window.

  In actual fact, Haroon did notice how pretty she looked when she sat in the car but didn’t say anything.

  ‘It is useless to expect something from you,’ she told him.

  ‘You are right, Zarish,’ he said sarcastically.

  She felt hurt. She wanted him to compliment her but he seemed lost in his own world.

  In the cafeteria, she ordered a mango milkshake and settled down to check her notifications on Facebook. She was flabbergasted to see Ahmar’s message in her inbox.

  Just then, Saleha and Maha joined her.

  ‘Hey Zarish, what’s up?’ Maha said as she pulled a chair to sit down.

  ‘Nothing much,’ she said absent-mindedly, her eyes glued to her mobile phone.

  ‘Anyway, how much did you score in Sir Ahmar’s assignment?’ Saleha asked.

  ‘Damn! I just remembered something. Thanks for reminding me, Saleha. I have to go and meet him right now!’ Zarish said and rushed towards the main building.

  Maha and Saleha exchanged confused looks.

  ‘Come in,’ Ahmar said when someone knocked on his door.

  ‘Good afternoon, Sir,’ Zarish greeted him.

  Ahmar looked up and seemed a bit surprised to see her in his office.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Zarish,’ he said.

  She took a few steps forward and stood near the chair. He quickly looked at her from head to toe which made Zarish uncomfortable.

  ‘A-a-actually . . . I . . .’ she stammered.

  He kept looking at her, without blinking his eyes. She could feel the growing tension in her body.

  ‘I . . . I am here . . .’ she stammered once again.

  ‘I know why you’re here,’ Ahmar said, interrupting her thoughts. Zarish got confused. She herself did not know why she was in his office

  ‘Why?’ she said in a confused tone.

  ‘There can only be one reason, Miss Zarish,’ he said.

  Every time he said her name, her heart skipped a beat and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Zarish could see that he was amused.

  ‘And what is that?’ she croaked.

  ‘You’re here for your assignment,’ he finally said.

  She felt disappointed with his reply.

  ‘Oh,’ is all she managed.

  ‘Here,’ he said and gave her the assignment. ‘You may check it now. I hope I didn’t disappoint you this time.’

  She took the file from his hand and looked at her marks.

  ‘Eight out of ten. That’s all?’ she complained.

  He nodded in amusement.

  ‘Thanks for being so generous,’ she said sarcastically and closed the file.

  ‘Still not happy with your marks?’ he said, narrowing his eyes.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Well, then I should tell you that I am not happy with your work either.’ He shrugged.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she cried.

  He nodded.

  ‘I rechecked it just for your satisfaction. I think you can do better than this,’ he said as he leaned back in his seat.

  Words froze in her throat. She just stared at him, surprised by his remarks.

  ‘One of the students from your class scored ten out of ten. I think her name is Fariha. You should go and check her assignment. See what mistakes you have made and then discuss them with me,’ he told her.

  ‘Fine, Sir. Next time I will prove that I can do better than this,’ she said bitterly.

  ‘Please don’t feel bad, Miss Zarish. My intention was not to offend you. Please take my comments as constructive criticism. It will help you in the future.’

  Her body tensed up and tears rolled down her cheeks. Ahmar noticed them too.

  ‘I should go . . .’ she murmured and turned to leave.

  Ahmar could comfort her but he felt helpless. Zarish wiped her tears with the back of her hand and left his office hurriedly.

  Ahmar clenched his fists and banged them against the table.

  ‘Why does she have to be so shallow and melodramatic all the time?’ he asked himself.

  Zarish ran into Haroon in the corridor.

  ‘Hey, Zarish, where are you going?’ he asked. Zarish wiped her tears and managed to smile. Haroon noticed the tension on her face.

  ‘What’s wrong, Zarish?’ he asked as he caressed her cheeks. ‘Why are you crying?’

  ‘Nothing, Haroon. Let me go.’ She tried to free herself.

  ‘I won’t let you go unless you tell me what’s wrong,’ he said.

  She looked at him for a moment and then burst out crying. He pulled her close and put his arms around her. Passers-by looked at them suspiciously.

  ‘Let’s go out and talk. People are looking at us,’ he said and led her out.

  ‘Now tell me, why are you crying?’

  Zarish sighed.

  ‘I asked Sir Ahmar to recheck my assignment, but he gave me only eight out of ten.’

  Haroon looked at her quizzically.

  ‘I thought I deserved more and complained, but he sort of insulted me.’ She shrugged.

  ‘So, you started crying? Really?’ he asked, surprised.

  She simply nodded. She did not tell him the real reason behind those tears. She cried
because she liked him and couldn’t bear his sarcasm. She felt hurt when he spoke to her rudely.

  Haroon started laughing.

  ‘God. Zarish! You’re such a cry baby. Grow up,’ he said and burst into laughter again.

  Zarish got irritated.

  ‘I worked really hard on the assignment.’

  ‘C’mon. Stop acting like a nerd! You are blaming that poor guy for nothing. You got what you deserved. Try to be happy. Don’t freak out unnecessarily. I got lower marks than you, but I’m not complaining,’ he said with a wide toothy grin

  ‘You got what you deserved too! You don’t study, that’s why you don’t have any expectations. But I do. You waste your time partying with those stupid girls,’ she quipped.

  ‘Whoa! Where are you going with this?’ he asked, amused.

  ‘This is the truth. You’d better accept it,’ she said.

  ‘Fine. You first grow up and stop acting like a kid,’ he teased.

  ‘Whatever,’ she said.

  It was late at night when Zarish opened her laptop to check Ahmar’s profile. She wondered if she should send him a message. But then she remembered what he’d said in the afternoon and stopped herself. Why did his words affect her like this? This was not the first time a teacher had scolded her. Why was he different? Not wanting to get distracted, she closed Facebook and went back to her assignment. Just then a chat window popped up on her screen; it was Ahmar.

  Hello. Hope you’re fine. I’m really sorry if I offended you in the afternoon. My intention was not to hurt you; I just want you to do better. Don’t take my advice negatively.

  All the hatred she’d felt for him in the afternoon vanished and she started giggling like a little girl. She tucked her hair behind her ear and started typing her reply:

  I think I overreacted today. I will not disappoint you again.

  She hit the send button and sighed heavily. He was quick to reply:

  You did not disappoint me this time either. It is just that I expect more from you.

  She replied:

  I am more than willing to try my best.

  She sent him the message and waited for his reply.

  Cool. Take care then.

  She wrote:

  You too. ☺

  When they reached the university the next day, Zarish and her friends found out that the faculty members had organized a field trip to Badshahi Mosque, one of the most popular historic monuments in Lahore.

  As the students were getting inside the bus, Zarish’s eyes met Ahmar’s. Dressed in a cool blue shirt with grey pants, he stood with Wahab and Jamal. She did not know if he was looking at her as he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. ‘He is stunningly handsome,’ she thought.

  She was reminded of her conversation with him last night. She blushed when she realized that he had initiated it. Her body trembled just thinking about it.

  Her heart skipped a beat when Ahmar took off his sunglasses and shot her a look. She instantly looked away, feeling embarrassed. Perhaps he had caught her staring at him.

  As they neared Badshahi Mosque, Wahab started his live commentary: ‘Badshahi Mosque was built in 1671 by Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb towards the end of the Mughal rule. For your information, Aurangzeb was the son of Mughal emperor Shah Jahan, the builder of the Taj Mahal in Agra.’

  It was uncomfortably hot that day. Despite wearing a lawn salwar kameez, Zarish was sweating profusely.

  ‘Damn,’ she cried.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Saleha asked.

  ‘I shouldn’t have worn high heels today. They’re hurting my feet. Stupid heels.’

  ‘Let’s get you a pair of chappals from one of the shops outside the mosque.’

  ‘Okay,’ Zarish muttered.

  Ahmar noticed the uneasiness in her stride but did not say anything. Wahab, who knew a lot about Pakistan’s cultural history, led the group inside the mosque.

  Everyone had to take off their shoes before entering the main prayer hall, but Zarish was not aware of this. Ahmar stopped her midway.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  ‘You cannot go inside with your shoes on. Please take them off.’

  ‘Oh. Gladly.’

  He watched her as she took off her heels. He noticed how her long, black hair fell over her shoulders as she bent down.

  ‘Ouch,’ she cried out in pain.

  ‘Do they hurt?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah. A bit,’ she said as she looked down at her swollen feet.

  ‘You can sit here for a while and then take the rest of the tour.’

  She nodded.

  They locked eyes for a moment before Ahmar joined the other students for the afternoon prayer in the main hall. Zarish was awestruck to see Ahmar praying so ardently on a weekday as her family members only prayed on Fridays. Some of the female students also prayed but Zarish remained reluctant.

  Later, when they were exiting the mosque, Zarish saw Ahmar distributing sweets to poor children sitting on the pavement outside the mosque.

  He had a contented smile on his face. She had never seen him so happy.

  ‘This man is something else,’ she murmured.

  Posters about the upcoming carnival were put up all over the campus.

  ‘Guys! The carnival is coming up! What’s the plan?’ Sherry asked everyone in the class.

  ‘I’ve heard students will get a chance to put up food stalls,’ Maha joined in.

  ‘I overheard the teachers talking. They said each group will be assigned a mentor,’ Saleha said.

  ‘I think I will ask Sir Jamal to be our mentor,’ Sherry said.

  ‘It’s not up to us. The head of the department will decide that,’ Saleha told him.

  ‘I wish Sir Ahmar is my mentor,’ Zarish thought.

  Ahmar was chit-chatting with Jamal and Wahab over samosas and tea.

  ‘Did the HOD assign you a group?’ Jamal asked Wahab.

  ‘Not yet,’ he replied.

  ‘I’ve heard the carnival is quite boring. Is it true?’ Ahmar asked as he took a bite of his samosa.

  ‘No, that’s not true. The university plans this carnival every year so that the students can have fun; make memories that last a lifetime,’ Jamal said.

  Ahmar nodded.

  ‘So, Jamal, when is your wedding?’ Wahab teased.

  Jamal blushed like a teenager. Both Wahab and Ahmar burst out laughing.

  ‘I’m ready for it. Maleeha has to agree,’ he said coyly.

  ‘Do you want us to talk to her?’ Ahmar asked.

  ‘Oh c’mon. I’ll wait for her answer,’ he replied.

  ‘Why don’t you propose to her?’ Ahmar asked.

  ‘We are already engaged. I don’t need to propose to her again,’ he said.

  ‘Of course, you have to. Girls become very emotional and sensitive when it comes to marriage. They want their partners to express their feelings again and again,’ Wahab said.

  ‘Hmm,’ Jamal seemed lost in thought.

  Zarish, Haroon, Sherry, Maha and Saleha were on the way to their next class when Zarish spotted the elevators in the main hall.

  ‘Guys, guys, guys . . . I’m too tired to climb the stairs,’ Zarish said, making a face.

  ‘Shall I carry you?’ Sherry said flirtatiously.

  ‘Oh please,’ Zarish muttered.

  ‘Back off!’ Haroon snarled.

  ‘You guys go ahead; I’m going to take the elevator,’ she said, winking at them.

  ‘That’s only for faculty members. In case you didn’t know,’ Sherry said with a smirk.

  ‘I don’t care,’ she said.

  Zarish stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor. Suddenly, the lift stopped and its metallic doors opened.

  Someone wearing a familiar pair of shoes stepped in. Shoes she often noticed: loafers. Flabbergasted, she banged her head against the wall of the elevator.

  ‘Ouch!’ she cried.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Ahmar asked.

  She reali
zed she was alone in the lift with him.

  ‘I guess,’ she said as she gently massaged her head.

  ‘Shall I have a look?’ he said, stepping closer.

  ‘Uh . . .’ Zarish took a step back nervously.

  Ahmar hesitated.

  ‘I . . . I am fine,’ she stammered.

  Embarrassed, Ahmar looked away, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  ‘By the way, I can complain about you to the management,’ he told her.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For using this elevator. Students are not allowed to use it. It’s only for . . .’

  ‘I know it’s only for faculty members,’ she completed his sentence. ‘I was tired, so I took it.’

  ‘You’re impossible,’ he hissed.

  The lift stopped on the fourth floor and the doors opened.

  ‘I know you won’t complain about this . . .’ she paused, ‘Because . . . I trust you,’ she said as she looked fixedly at him.

  He felt a strange sensation when she said she trusted him. He saw something magical in her eyes. Something unusual. Something dark and unknown. An unspoken emotion.

  ‘Why does she trust me?’ he wondered.

  She walked out, leaving him alone in the lift. Zarish did not know why she had said those words. Did she really trust him?

  The HOD announced the final list of the groups the next day. Zarish had Sherry and another classmate, Zoya, in her group. To Zarish’s surprise, Ahmar was their mentor. The mere thought of spending more time with him sent a shiver down her spine.

  The next few days passed in the blink of an eye. Everyone was busy preparing for the carnival. Students cheered and enjoyed themselves, but Zarish was stuck with Sherry and the newbie, Zoya.

  Just a day before the carnival, Zarish was busy putting up flyers for their food stall.

  ‘I need more Scotch tape,’ Zarish told Zoya and Sherry who were helping her out.

  Ahmar stopped by to see their progress.

  ‘So what food item did you guys select?’ he asked.

  ‘Sir, we will be selling cheese balls,’ Sherry told him.

  ‘Great. Who will get them?’ he asked.

  ‘Zarish will make them,’ Sherry said.

  Ahmar turned to look at her, but she looked away.