by Sara Naveed
‘Yes,’ he murmured and paused.
An uncomfortable silence ensued.
‘I wanna make up right now na na . . . I wanna make up right now na na . . .’ he started humming in the most sensual and sexy voice.
‘What?’ Zarish screamed, her skin breaking out into goosebumps.
‘It’s a nice song, right? I heard it at the party tonight,’ he said.
‘Hey, are you drunk?’ she asked abruptly. She was shocked to hear him in this state. He had never talked to her like this before.
‘Uh. No.’
‘There goes another lie. I saw you drinking at the party.’
‘I just had a few mocktails.’
‘Whatever. I don’t think we should talk right now considering that you’re not feeling normal. You won’t even remember this conversation tomorrow,’ she said.
‘I will remember each and everything about this night, Zarish.’
She shifted nervously on her bed after hearing her name. It sounded even more beautiful when he said it.
‘I don’t believe you, Ahmar,’ she said, well aware that she had called him by his first name.
‘What should I do to make you believe?’ he asked in a deep, throaty voice.
‘I don’t know,’ she said with a sigh, still not able to believe that she was talking to him at this hour. Her entire body trembled.
‘You can ask me whatever you want. I will answer every question. I promise,’ he said.
‘We could have a better relationship if you stopped lying to me constantly,’ she snapped. ‘Did that hurt? Anyway, I have to sleep now. I’m tired,’ she added.
‘I never lied to you, nor would I in the future,’ he said, ignoring her comment.
‘We’ll see about that,’ she said and yawned.
‘Goodnight, sleepy head. You will be subjected to more interrogation tomorrow,’ he said.
‘Ahmar . . .’ she said.
‘Hmm?’
‘I want to say something.’
‘Yeah. Go on.’
‘I think you’re . . . you’re growing on me.’
It was an entirely different morning for Zarish. She woke up to the sunlight streaming through the window. She rubbed her eyes softly, the mascara from last night staining her fingers. Her life had made a sudden shift. She had witnessed a prominent change in Ahmar’s behaviour last night. Despite knowing he was not in his senses when he spoke to her, she still wanted to believe she had a chance with him.
The sudden buzz of her phone startled her. She turned around to pick it up from the side table. It was Ahmar again. She panicked for a second.
‘Hello?’ she said in a casual voice.
‘Thank god you picked up my call,’ he said, sounding amused.
Zarish flushed after hearing his voice.
‘Good morning, Zarish. How are you?’
‘Good morning. I’m fine. And you?’
‘I hope I didn’t disturb you,’ he said, ignoring her question.
‘You didn’t disturb me, but yeah, I am a little surprised,’ she whispered.
‘I’m full of surprises, you know?’ He laughed.
‘He usually doesn’t laugh so much. What’s wrong with him?’ Zarish wondered.
‘Are you there?’ he asked, breaking her reverie.
‘Yeah, I’m here,’ she said and tucked her hair behind her ear.
‘So, what are your plans today? Do you have any classes?’
‘No. Our classes will begin next week.’
‘Oh.’
‘I thought you knew that,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I do actually. I just wanted to know if you’re free today or have some other plans?’
‘Why do you care?’ she asked. She sat on her bed and looked at herself in the mirror.
‘God. I look pathetic,’ she thought.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he replied.
‘But I want to know,’ she insisted.
‘Don’t cross-question me, Miss Zarish.’
She sighed.
‘Okay, would you like to go to the book exhibition at the EXPO Centre?’ he asked.
‘What?’ she sounded shocked.
‘Yes. Get ready quickly because I don’t like people who do not value their time. I will pick you up in an hour. See you soon!’ he said and hung up.
Zarish stared at the phone with a blank expression on her face.
Realizing that she had only an hour, she quickly undressed and rushed towards the washroom. After taking a quick shower, she stood in front of her wardrobe deciding what to wear.
After much contemplation, she picked out her favourite black harem pants with a printed, red chiffon blouse. She accessorized her outfit with a delicate wristwatch and a pendant.
Her cell phone rang when she was applying lip gloss.
‘He’s here. Oh shit,’ she said excitedly.
Her father was out of town, which made it easier for her to escape. She told her mother that a friend of hers was going to pick her up, and she would be back in the evening.
She saw his car parked a few steps away from the main gate of her house. She opened the door and slid in swiftly. He was stunned by her beauty. He wanted to pay her a thousand compliments but words froze in his throat.
Without looking in her direction, he started the engine and drove off. The car smelt of fresh lavender and rosewood. She glanced sideways at him. He was wearing a light blue linen shirt with cream-coloured corduroy pants. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes and she couldn’t make out his expression.
She intertwined her fingers nervously.
‘Hello,’ he said, breaking the silence.
‘Hello,’ she replied in a soft, musical voice.
‘I know you were a little shocked after hearing about this plan,’ he said and looked at her, his admiring eyes taking in every bit of her beauty.
‘A little?’ she asked, her cheeks flushing under his gaze.
He nodded, looking at her again.
‘I still don’t know why you’re doing this,’ she said, placing her hand on her forehead.
‘A friend told me about this exhibition. So, I decided to check it out.’
‘Yeah, but why did you ask me to come? I’m not a book lover.’ She shrugged.
‘I know, but I thought your perspective might change after this trip,’ he said, grinning.
‘Why are you so keen on changing my perspective anyway?’
‘Why do you always ask so many questions?’
‘Don’t interrogate me. I have prepared a list of questions for you,’ she said.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘great.’
‘You always do this to me.’ She looked away, feeling annoyed.
‘Do what?’ He seemed confused.
‘Last night you said I could ask you anything,’ she said.
He looked ahead, not meeting her eye.
Zarish tried to interpret his thoughts. She knew he would never answer her questions.
‘See. I was right. Never trust a man who is drunk,’ she said in a teasing voice.
He removed his sunglasses and looked into her eyes. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, but then he turned away.
‘I knew you’d forget everything today,’ she said glumly.
‘First of all, I wasn’t really drunk. And like I said, I haven’t forgotten anything,’ he said, trying to prove her wrong. ‘I will answer all your questions when the time is right.’
‘And when will that be?’ she asked, folding her arms.
‘Maybe now. Maybe later. Have you had breakfast?’ he asked, changing the subject.
‘No,’ she said.
‘Great. I haven’t eaten either,’ he said. ‘After the exhibition, I’ll take you to a nice place to eat. All right?’
‘You don’t have to,’ she replied curtly.
Ahmar decided not to ruin her mood any further. He enjoyed teasing her. He turned up the volume of the stereo and drove the car in silence.
It took them almost half
an hour to reach the exhibition. Since it was a Saturday, the centre had attracted a lot of book lovers. The place was bustling with activity. The sight of so many people packed in a small space nauseated Zarish. She felt a sudden irrational fear. He noticed the uneasiness on her face.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, trying to comfort her.
‘I’m fine,’ she said, wiping the sweat off her face.
‘I hope you’re not claustrophobic. Are you?’ he asked. ‘I’ll get you a glass of juice. Why don’t you sit on that bench till then? I’ll be right back.’
Zarish had to follow his order. What other choice did she have?
Within minutes, he was by her side again. He handed her a glass of orange juice, which she gulped down quickly.
‘Feeling any better?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. I guess,’ she said, feeling tired.
‘Bringing you here was a bad idea,’ he murmured.
She blinked her eyes mechanically at his words.
‘Are you regretting it now?’ she asked, looking at him.
‘Your condition makes me feel like that, Zarish.’ He lowered his gaze. ‘You don’t seem okay.’
‘I’m completely fine now. Let’s go check out the books,’ she said, standing up.
Both of them checked out every bookstall that had been set up. A few renowned authors and editors had come from other countries to participate in the event. Zarish saw Ahmar talking to them animatedly and enjoying himself. She did not want to interrupt his conversation, so she decided to look around on her own. However, she was not into books and was soon bored, which Ahmar noticed. Zarish picked up a random book from a stall and shuffled through its pages.
‘See, I told you it was a bad idea,’ he said, startling her.
‘Not at all. I’m enjoying myself,’ she said, her heart beating faster when his arm brushed hers.
‘Yeah. I can see that,’ he murmured, inching closer.
He stood close to her, making her blush. She could feel his face in her hair. She moved away, shuddering at the thought of getting close to him.
‘Did you like any book? Let me gift you one,’ he said, scanning the shelves. She leaned over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the titles. But her mind kept going back to the moment he touched her.
He picked a copy of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand and The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Zarish was amazed by his choice.
‘Here you go,’ he said, handing her the books. ‘I want you to read these books.’
‘I don’t read such books.’
‘These books will help increase your intellect and might change your life too. I really want you to read these. I recommend them to all my students.’
‘Students?’ she asked sarcastically. ‘Not again, Sir Ahmar,’ she snapped.
Ahmar smiled as he walked up to one of the bookstalls.
‘How’s the exhibition going so far?’ he asked one of the booksellers.
‘It’s going well,’ he said.
‘I would like to buy some books from your stall. Give me the total bill please,’ Ahmar declared.
Zarish was astounded. She didn’t understand why he had bought so many books.
‘Why did you buy all these books? I can’t read all of them,’ Zarish said, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears.
‘I have not bought these books for you, Miss Zarish,’ he said in a calm tone.
‘Then?’ She narrowed her brows.
‘Well.’ He sighed. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I will donate these books to an orphanage house located on Mall Road,’ he said.
‘Oh.’
‘I help these children by either giving them money or buying them books.’
‘That’s . . . incredible,’ she said.
‘Not really,’ he interjected. ‘These children need our help,’ he added, lost in thought.
‘He is perfect in every way,’ she thought and then remembered how generously he had distributed food among the poor children at the Badshahi Mosque.
‘Hmm.’ He sighed. ‘Let me get these books to my car and then we can go for lunch.’
‘Lunch is not necessary,’ she said.
‘I don’t want you to faint this time. So lunch is a must.’ He grinned as he walked towards the exit.
Ahmar took her to a fine dining Arabian restaurant, where every table was set in an enclosed cabin shaped like a Bedouin tent.
‘I think you don’t like the place,’ he said, observing her reaction.
‘No. Uh. What makes you say that?’
‘The way you’re looking at everything,’ he said, smiling.
‘Sorry, but this time your observation is wrong,’ she said, playing with a fork. ‘You can’t always be right.’
‘Hmm.’ He folded his arms and rested them on the table. ‘What do you want to eat?’
‘Since you are the host, why don’t you order for the table?’
‘Yeah, but what if you don’t like my taste?’
‘You like. I like,’ she said, smiling.
‘All right, he said, signalling to the waiter.
Soon their food arrived; its mesmerizing aroma made Zarish even hungrier.
He had ordered hummus, a mixture of garbanzo beans, tahina, garlic and spices served with pita bread; fattoush, diced tomatoes, onions, chopped parsley and toasted pita bread tossed in a dressing of garlic, lemon, oil and salt; and shish tawook, made of barbequed chicken with fried vegetables and French fries.
Everything was delicious. Zarish gorged on it greedily.
‘Wow,’ she whispered, her eyes glowing with excitement.
After the meal, Zarish leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Ahmar noticed that she looked relaxed.
‘Already tired?’ he asked.
‘Why? Do we have some other plans as well?’
‘Hmm.’ He thought for a while. ‘Depends on your mood.’
‘Hey, can I ask you something?’
Zarish’s unexpected question made him a little nervous.
‘Yes, sure. What is it?’
‘What did you think about me when you met me for the first time?’ she asked.
He took a deep breath.
‘Well?’
‘Do you really want me to get started?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘First impression is the last impression, do you believe in this?’
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ she said, sensing where this was going. She knew she had failed to make a good impression on him during their first meeting at the restaurant. The memory made her feel pathetic.
‘I think I got my answer,’ she said without waiting for his answer.
‘But I haven’t said anything,’ he said, raising his hands.
‘So, do you want to add more spice to make me feel worse? You embarrassed me the last time when we talked in your car.’
‘Do you want an answer to your question or not?’ he asked, sounding a bit annoyed.
‘Fine.’ She gave up. ‘Please continue,’ she said, pretending to listen.
‘When I first met you, I thought you were irresponsible and ill-mannered.’
Zarish knew this was coming so she didn’t seem surprised.
‘You know why I formed this opinion,’ he continued.
‘It was a stupid thing to do. It was not intentional,’ she interrupted.
‘Yeah, I know. Maybe your intention was not bad but I was still hurt. I couldn’t sleep that night.’
‘Do you still feel angry when you remember that incident?’ she asked sheepishly.
‘No,’ he answered. ‘I don’t sit back and think about the past again and again. I don’t hold grudges or seek revenge.’
‘Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?’
‘I am not finished yet.’
Zarish heaved a long sigh.
‘Bored already?’ he asked, smiling mischievously. ‘So, I was saying . . . Even though you played a dirty trick on me, I don’t hate
you.’
‘What do you mean?’ she inquired, sitting on the edge of the couch.
‘That means you’ve kind of reversed the quote for me. In your case, the first impression is not the last impression,’ he said, grinning.
Zarish lowered her gaze, her face flushed.
‘I’ve seen you evolve over the months. You’re quite good in academics, and you are not irresponsible, careless or ill-mannered any more.’
‘Why does he talk about me only as his student? What does he think about me as a person, as a woman?’ she thought.
‘You are a good person, Zarish, but we all come with some flaws as well,’ he said.
She looked at him with a confused expression.
‘There are some flaws in you too, but those can be amended. I’ll help you,’ he said.
‘Could you tell me now?’ she asked.
‘I’m sure this has something to do with Haroon,’ she thought.
‘Not today. I will tell you when the time is right,’ he said.
‘I’m sick of hearing the same thing again and again,’ she said, looking away in disappointment.
He burst out laughing. She stared at him.
‘Aren’t you happy with the compliments I just paid you?’ he asked.
‘That was just general stuff. You didn’t tell anything special. A lot of people have told me this before. This is not news for me.’ She shrugged.
‘There is something you haven’t heard about yourself yet.’
‘And what’s that?’ she asked.
‘It’s getting late. Let’s go back.’
On their way home, Zarish remained quiet. Ahmar did not want this to happen. The silence was killing him. He wanted her to talk about her life, her experiences, her friends, her family and lastly the complicated subject of love. He wanted to know about her relationship with Haroon.
He stopped the car near her house. Both of them stared at each other for a while. Zarish did not feel like stepping out of the car. In fact, she wanted to spend more time with him.
‘You seem lost, Zarish.’ He broke the silence.
‘I don’t know. I’ve just been bitten by reality, I guess. I’d never thought so deeply about how poor people lead their lives. You’ve opened my mind.’
‘Poverty is everywhere, Zarish. People should have the courage to get out of the vicious circle.’
‘Do you think you can do it?’