Nasreen

Who do I meet early in the morning on Eid day—Maqbool! Smile so wide to be touching his ears, cheeks puffed as if laughter is about to burst out, so happy he couldn’t even walk straight! Asked him, brother, what’s up, how are you, where have been tied up, how come you’ve turned so roundish? But, sir, no answer, just smiles, giggles and laughter! Irritated, I started to laugh with him! What else could I do! We were bosom buddies for years. But he had suddenly disappeared after we finished the tenth grade. He was in hiding ever since. Then, out of the blue, we met.

Maqbool had become even droopier, his belly was on the rise, and his face was turning into round as a circle. But he looked quite dignified. He told me he has a business somewhere in a jungle. Now, it was my turn to laugh! So you’re a businessman…hehehe…what is it…a business of trees and beasts! Damn! Couldn’t you find anything else to do!!!

“I’m getting married,” he said finally. I hugged him hard, “With whom? Where? Why?” Blushing, he said, “Close family friends, and I know her well.”

“How’s she?” I asked.

“Very good!” he said bashfully.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” I said, “I’m not asking about her health that you said “good”! Details! I want details!”

Slowly, he told me the whole story. He loved that girl like a mad man. Not only he loved her, he had been in love with her for the longest time. His only wish was to marry her, and finally that wish of his was about to come true.

“The jungle is very scary and lonely place. I was going insane. If it weren’t for her, I would’ve ran away from that place. It was only her thoughts that gave me strength. Now, with her, that jungle will be a paradise,” he said glowingly.

“Then she must be very pretty,” I guesstimated.

“Yes, maybe she is. Whatever she is, I really like her a lot…a lot.”

“What the heck is that…“I like her”! What about her? Does she care about you?”

“So what. I don’t care if she likes me or not. Isn’t it enough that I’m madly in love with her? And if I love her so much, why wouldn’t she like me?

I laughed at his naiveté. He’s so simple, I thought. Whoever she is, she will be very happy with him.

Maqbool would not stop talking about her. He had all sorts of plans for their future. Then I suddenly remembered, “Hey, what’s her name?”

“Nasreen,” he said.

“Nasreen?” I said a little shocked.

“Yes, yes, it’s Nasreen. She used to drop in at your place all the time. You must’ve seen her.”

Yes, I had seen her. Many times.

I knew her real well. I talked to her many times. I kept thinking about her. Maqbool finally left, but I kept sitting there. I couldn’t move. I was feeling this weird pain in my heart. So Nasreen is leaving—with Maqbool! I was feeling as if something has exited from my life. I kept sitting there, alone, by myself. I don’t know why but I kept thinking about that crazy, innocent girl. There was nothing special about it. And I really didn’t care about her. I always met her as if we were strangers. She had to get married. She is marrying Maqbool who worships her. He will take really good care of her. The jungle will turn into a paradise. I smiled at Maqbool’s simplicity.

I went to my older sister’s—whom I affectionately called Apa—room and asked her to show me her photo albums. I got bored quickly. Then I tried to play cards, but I kept losing. Apa was my partner. She threw her cards away and left, saying, “Forget it. You are not into it. I don’t want to lose anymore.” I joined the kids to play with them. But the sadness just won’t leave me. Why are you fooling yourself, I said to myself, why don’t you just admit that this news has made you very sad.

I went out to the garden in the back and lied down in the long chair.

It was gorgeous outside: beautiful mild sunshine, cool, gentle wind, white clouds moving along slowly under the clear blue sky. It made me doze off. Bored and tired, I looked up to the emptiness of the space and got lost in my thoughts. In that blue sky with white clouds, in my imaginations, a face started to emerge and became so well defined as if it were real. I saw a dazzling, light-pink face of a girl with flowing curly hair. Those pretty, intoxicant eyes with long eyelashes, the eyes that had extreme softness in them, turned towards me. Then those beautiful, rose-petal like lips quivered as if they were about to say something to me. But they just quivered and didn’t say anything.

I closed my eyes. I began to remember everything about Nasreen. Vivid as a movie, all those memories started to flow in my head like a flood.

It all started when I saw her the first time.

One evening, as I was leaving to play cricket, I thought I should put some perfume on. I liked it when I smelled nice while balling. It freshened me up. Confident that Apa isn’t back from her college yet (I was really scared of her,) I sent Bunno to Apa’s room and asked her to fetch that long blue bottle of perfume for me. But Bunno came back with a message: Apa wants me in her room. “Why?” I asked her. “I don’t know,” was her answer.

Damn, I thought nervously. Why does she want me? She must want me to do something for her. Now, my whole evening is going to get ruined. But I had no choice. I looked really weird in the condition I was in at the moment: uncombed hair, shirt’s top-buttons open, the college blazer in my hand, and the cricket shoes that were making loud noises on that hard floor. I walked in her room a little scared.

“This is that disorderly,” Apa said to the girl sitting there.

I saw a beautiful girl whose very nice curly hair was flowing in the fan-air.

“Say salam to her,” Apa asked me smiling.

I was even more nervous. Why should I say salam to that girl. I had no idea who she was. Apa looked at me reprovingly. Annoyed, I slightly shook my head and started to leave.

“Now you saw him for yourself. I told you he was nuts,” said Apa to that girl. Nervous, I tried to put my blazer on clumsily. Apa wanted me to sit there for a few minutes. But those minutes seemed like eternity to me. I wanted to get the hell out, just break that window and jump out.

Apa later told me her name was Nasreen. She was Apa’s classmate and her best friend. Since Apa talked to her about me all the time, she wanted to meet me. That’s why Apa invited her over. I had a major fight with Apa that night. Why does she tell everyone about me on a one-to-one basis? She should have my picture printed in a magazine or something and distribute them to all her friends. I was so mad at her. I stayed mad at Apa for quite some time for that.

One day, all tired from playing cricket, as soon as I walked-in, Apa said, “Take me to the movies.” She had to go to some party at her friend’s house and to a movie afterwards. She was late for the party, but there was still time left for the movie. I didn’t like it when I heard that it was her friends who were also going to be at the movie with her. I tried to get out of it, saying, “I’ve a headache,” “I’ve a sprained ankle,” “please go with someone else.” But Apa won’t listen. I thought maybe I could stall her and make her miss the movie. “Can I change?” I asked her.

“No, you are coming like this.”

“But look at me. I’m covered with dust.”

“So what,” she said pissed-off, “I’m invited, not you. Besides, none of them knows you. Why do you care?”

What a drag, I thought. I didn’t want to go but couldn’t get out of it. I tried very hard to be late for the movie. Hoping to get there late, I took the longest possible route I knew to get to the movie theatre. But, as my luck would have it, we got there just in time. The movie had just started. We had to go inside in the dark. We sat down in the first seats we could find. Apa started to look for her friends and asked me to do the same. I saw a crowd of girls sitting two rows ahead of us. I whispered to Apa, and they sure were her friends. But there was no room down there in that row or Apa would’ve joined them.

“You have room?” I hear someone say in the back. I turned around to look. It was Nasreen.

“Yes, but only for one person,” said Apa.

“Can I sit then?” I heard Nasreen ask.

Nasreen was coming in for real. Apa picked her leather purse from the seat in between her and me. Oh, man, Nasreen is going to sit here for sure. “Can I go up front?” I asked Apa knowing well that she’s not too happy with my attitude.

“What’s the matter with you? She’s a girl not an ogre. She’s not going to bite you.”

Nasreen came in and sat next to me. The air around me suddenly smelled just wonderful.

For a few minutes my neck turned stiff as a rock. Stiffed, I kept staring straight. I peeked at her with the corner of my eye. She was looking at me. I adjusted myself nervously. Okay, I won’t look at her. But, man, that girl had such great taste in clothes. What beautiful dress she was wearing. It was matching the weather. She looked like a doll. I thought of Apa’s other friends. They had such bad taste in clothes that I had given them nicknames: Parrot Fairy, Canary, Mrs Monster (she wore only black,) Blue Cow, Mad Cat.

I suddenly became alert. Apa and Nasreen were whispering in each other’s ears. I started to eavesdrop. They would say something about an actor in the movie, then say something about me.

“Are you talking about this guy?” asked Nasreen. At that moment on the screen a pathetic-looking skinny hero was crying over for the love he couldn’t get and his bad luck.

“No, no, not this guy, wait, yes, there you go,” said Apa. I saw on the screen a six-foot tall, very strong man whose insolent behavior was the talk of the movie. He’d beat up anyone who dared to disagree with him. When he hit his elbow on an iron pillar by accident, he got mad and hit that pillar back with a fist. He walked as if he owned the street: tight fists, chest out, stiff neck, stretched lips that definitely wasn’t a smile. Everyone in the movie was scared of him. He was a total bully. He had no brains whatsoever, and reason and logic had passed him by completely

“See how similar he is, exactly like him,” whispered Apa to Nasreen.

I got burnt. So, they are saying I am like that insolent, rude bully.

“No way! Maybe the height and the chest, but the rest…,” Nasreen whispered back.

“You’re taking his side for nothing. Just look at that face,” said Apa.

I felt like beating a few people up in that movie theatre and run out screaming. I was so mad.

“He’s exactly like him,” Apa said again.

So, this is the respect I get. And she thinks she’s my older sister. Some sister. She says nothing but bad things about me. I was feeling totally rebellious.

The interval began. I turned my face away from them. Nasreen offered me some chocolates but I didn’t even look at her. Apa admonished me and I had to. But I don’t know if those chocolates were really that bitter or they just tasted that way to me. I didn’t participate in their conversation at all.

The interval was over and the movie began again. Unfortunately, the real part of that rude man now started: he hung two men up in the air, swung his fist in the air, jumped over a little stream. Apa was laughing and Nasreen was whispering in her ear.

Now a new problem arose for me. A girl fell in love with that guy. That poor girl tried many times to make him see that she loved him, but he just couldn’t get it. To love a girl was something he had no clue of. Finally, at the end of the movie, the girl told him that she loved him. He reacted as if “O’ man, what a problem,” made a face as if he’s thinking something deep, and said, “Oh, why didn’t you tell me this before. I can’t do anything now, everything is over.” He then said salam to her, put a cigarette in his mouth, and split. Apa and Nasreen started to laugh out loud. Leaving my hat there, I took the car and ran fast to the house. I was really pissed-off at them, and stayed that way for some time. I started to make dangerous plans to avenge Apa and Nasreen. But fortunately a witty friend of mine called and asked me to come over to his place for dinner. By the time I got back from his house, I had pretty much forgiven Apa and Nasreen. After that incident, I went to the movies with Apa and Nasreen many times, but I usually didn’t stay with them. I’d make some excuse and leave.

One evening, I was going swimming in a pond and was in my swim-shorts underneath the dressing gown. I was waiting for my older brother to bring the car back so I could use it. I thought maybe I could stretch a little while waiting for the car. I went to the garden and started to do jumping jack. It wasn’t even a minute I had started that I heard Apa’s loud laugh. I felt as stupid as I was embarrassed. I walked over to the fountain and saw Apa and Nasreen having tea. I was annoyed. Why is this Nasreen always with Apa like a shadow? It’s as if Apa wasn’t enough of a problem for me.

“Oh, forget it! Come, have some tea with us,” said Apa laughingly.

“No, thank you. I’m late for my swim.” I started to leave.

“So, you’re using swimming as an excuse! What a strange boy! There’s nothing in this world he hasn’t tried yet. All kind of sports, acting, painting, photography, poetry, you name it! He’s always doing something, but has never achieved anything!”

“What about all those acting awards from the drama club, those trophies, my paintings in the gallery, those letters full of praises, those… those… those…,” I protested like a little kid.

“Those are all just coincidence, your good luck,” said Apa with a devilish smile on her face, “to tell you the truth, you are so ordinary. Now, take this swimming of yours for example. You’ve been trying this thing for the last two years. If it were someone else, he would’ve turned into a fish by now. But you…!”

“You’ll see this year.” I was getting really mad.

“Oh, yeah! I’ve been seeing you all these years! Last year (addressing Nasreen) he dragged us to watch him play a cricket match. Said he plays real well. He was so bad in balling that people fell off their chairs laughing. The other team scored tons of runs off him. Frustrated, the captain snatched the ball from him. We thought, okay, maybe he’s a better batsman. Well, he put his batting pads on and walked on to the pitch like a super-hero, as if he’s going to beat the other team single-handedly. Guess what! Out on the first ball!!!”

What Apa was saying was eighty percent lie.

“But I’ve heard he’s a really good player,” said Nasreen.

“Never believe what you hear. I’d heard that too…till I saw him play!” Apa was getting really nasty. That was too much for me. I wanted to leave feeling like crying.

“Oooo, lookie here! The poor boy is upset! That’s another thing about him! Can’t even kid around with this guy! He gets mad real quick, and then stays mad for days,” said Apa, and then I had to sit with them.

Now, they were both drinking tea and I was just sitting there cracking my knuckles like an idiot. It didn’t look like they were going to make me any tea. I waited for a few minutes then jumped at the teakettle.

“You’re so impatient, for God’s sake! Why, you look so lost sitting there quietly? Just ask Nasreen. She’ll make tea for you.”

I was cursing the moment I walked-in to the garden. A little scared, I looked at Nasreen as if I’m saying, please take a pity on me and make me some tea. A little scared, she poured me some tea. She offered me the teacup while looking at me and that very hot tea fell on my laps.

“I’m so sorry,” said those beautiful little lips. I was getting the tea off my gown. “So what! Don’t worry about it,” said Apa, “He would’ve gotten wet swimming anyway. Make him another cup.”

Another cup was made. Nasreen looked at me…again. Hot tea on my laps…again. Damn, what clown is asking her to look at me. She quickly offered me her little handkerchief to dry my gown. That day I couldn’t go swimming because it got dark. I had to work out in the garden.

One day I got home a little late. I could hear all that noise in my room. Someone in there was throwing things around. Who’s this? I was alert. It couldn’t be the servants. Not Bunno. Must be some kid entertaining himself in my room. I tippy-toed in to my room. Someone ran through the other door. I saw the curtain in the door move. I jumped to the window to look. I saw a shadow quickly get in Apa’s room. I looked at my room. Everything was upside down. Closets were open, my clothes were on the books, the clock was in the shoe, the trophies were under the bed, the camera was on the floor. I was mad. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. This room-quake had happened before. Who is this person? Why does this person enjoy so much messing up my room? I decided to get to the bottom of it. Is it Apa? It must be her. She was looking for things, and when she saw me coming, ran to her room. If that’s the case, then I’ll have a fight with her. Let her get mad at me if she wants to. She’s not that much older than me but bosses me around. She does this to my room at least three times a week. And if I go to her room, there’d be nothing but exhortations for me. Don’t touch this. Don’t touch that. If you touch the vase, you’ll break it. Look at the pictures from a distance. Don’t flip through the books. Be careful looking at the albums. Are your hands clean? I decided to have a major fight with her.

I got out of my room and went into hers. There was no one in there. I looked out the window. There was a bunch of her friends out in the garden. Seemed like they were having a party, and were now getting ready to play a game. I thought this wasn’t a good time to fight with Apa. Maybe tomorrow. But what if I’m not as mad at her by tomorrow. And tomorrow she’d just deny it, would say she doesn’t know anything about it. Today I had proof. So, how would I get to her? It was useless to go from the front. Maybe from the back. In the game they were playing, the girls had to run far. I figured I’d hide behind the bushes and when Apa passes by, I’ll grab her and scare her so much that she’ll never forget. Very quietly, making sure no one sees me, moving slowly, against the wall, hiding behind the trees, I went towards the pomegranate bushes.

The moon was out in full and it was a very bright, beautiful moonlit night. I was afraid someone might see me. In trying to be careful, I fell down a few times. Finally, I got behind the bushes where the girls were passing-by in their game. I remembered that Apa is wearing a blue dress. I positioned myself like a wicket-keeper. I saw someone in a blue doputta pass by. I jumped at her. When she saw me coming after her, she started to run twice as fast. I didn’t run fast on purpose. I figured she can’t go that far. There was no way she could’ve gotten away from me. I could get her any time I wanted. She jumped over a few little bushes and her doputta got caught in one of them. She ran around the orange trees a few times. She had lost her shoes and now was bare feet. But she kept running. Then I saw her hide behind a bush. I went behind her back quietly, grabbed her real hard, and started to shake and howl in her ear. When I was finally done scaring her, I saw it was Nasreen. I was so embarrassed. What kind of low-life is he, she must think. I kept apologizing to her, “I’m so sorry. I thought you were my sister. She made a mess in my room. I was after her. Why didn’t you say it was you?” I quickly grabbed a few flowers from nearby and gave them to her as if I was offering her a bribe. She just stood there looking at me, astonishingly, with those big, pretty eyes. In that beautiful moonlit night she seemed like a gorgeous marble statue. It was perhaps the first time I realized how beautiful she was. We searched for her shoes for a long time, and then carefully removed her doputta from that bush. She told me that Apa was in the garden all this time and never left to go anywhere. “Who was in my room then?” I asked. “Someone must be looking at your pictures,” she said. I kept thinking if it was Nasreen in my room looking at my pictures. But why? After that night, I didn’t see Nasreen for many days. Sometimes I got worried because all of Apa’s friends would drop-in at our house except for her.

Tired of playing too much cricket all day, I was relaxing in the garden one night lying in the long chair. Soft sitar music was playing on the radio next to me. It had rained during the day. Big pieces of clouds in the sky were moving slowly. The moon was out there shining. But every now and then a piece of cloud would cover the moon, the moonlight would disappear, then reappear when the cloud would move away from it. I was looking at a tree in front of me. A piece of cloud covered the moon and everything turned dark. Then, as the cloud slowly started to move away from the moon making everything visible again, I saw a shadow by the tree, the shadow which became visible once the moon was open and bright. The shadow that now looked like a marble statue. When her curly hair flowed from the wind I knew it was Nasreen. Apa had told me a few days ago that Nasreen was not well. I felt bad because I didn’t even bother to call her, or had someone ask her how she was.

She moved the radio away and sat next to me. She had lost weight and her pink face looked pale, which looked very pretty in that moonlit night. Awkwardly, I asked her how she was and found out that her heart was beating hard.

“Does it beat real hard?” I asked.

“Yes, so hard that if you were sitting next to me you could hear it,” she said innocently.

We talked a little more. Then she asked, “Will you tell me the truth if I asked you something?”

“Yes, please go ahead,” I said a little surprised.

“If I had asked you to come and see me when I was sick, would you have come?”

“Yes, yes, sure, definitely, there’s nothing to it.”

She was quiet for a few seconds, and then said, “You know why I didn’t ask you to come and see me? I felt as if you were sitting there by me. I felt your hand on my forehead. You gave me so much strength. You won’t believe it, but in the last two months I always felt as if you were there with me every day, sitting in front of me, smiling.”

“Let’s go, it’s getting late,” I said looking at my empty wrist, “Oh, I forgot my watch.”

“Take this,” she started to take her little watch off her wrist.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find my watch tomorrow.”

But she wanted to give me her watch.

“No thanks. And look at this watch. It’s so little.”

We both got up and she stood in front of me.

“If I want to give the watch to you, you won’t take it?” she asked despairingly.

“But…see…okay…maybe some other time,” I was refusing it.

But she put the watch in my hand. In trying to return it, I slightly hit her wrist. She was suddenly scared and sadness covered her face.

“You don’t want it,” she said quietly. Her eyes were closing and it seemed as if she was feeling dizzy and may fall down. I quickly held her in my arms. A big cloud covered the moon and everything turned dark. I held her in my arms till that cloud was over the moon. She smelled wonderful. She was very light, just like a garland of pretty flowers. I was ashamed of my roughness. She was so softhearted, so innocent. She was also not well. When that cloud finally moved away from the moon and everything was bright again, I saw her eyes were still closed, as if she was sleeping peacefully knowing that she was with her protector, as if she didn’t want to open her eyes and realize I wasn’t there. I took her to the fountain to sprinkle her face with water so she would feel better.

Then Eid arrived. I had wonderful dreams. I saw lily-size roses. I saw a garden with nothing but roses in it. I saw red rose-petals floating on the deep blue water of a beautiful pond. I saw colorful, pretty butterflies dancing on them. I saw brilliant orange sunset. I saw a flock of birds fly away into that sunset. Then a new dream began. I felt as if I was half-sleeping half-awake. Someone quietly sat next to my head and started to play with my hair. I felt very soft fingers. I kept dreaming. I turned in my sleep, and the dream went hazy. I saw dim lights glimmering softly. Then everything turned dark. Someone was holding onto my arm tight, very tight. It was bright again and the light didn’t turn dim. Then the continuity broke and I woke up. Someone had suddenly left the room. The curtain in the door was still moving. I looked out the window. I felt as if that was Nasreen.

Sun was out for some time now. Someone had come to wake me up. I saw a little handkerchief on my pillow. There was a very colorful Eid card on the table, which Nasreen had made herself. I knew, then, it was Nasreen in my room. That Eid day Nasreen stayed at our place the whole day. She met me for a few minutes. Her pretty big eyes had tears in them. She was trying to smile but I could tell she was very sad, that her soul was getting crushed under the heavy weight of melancholy.

For many days I felt Nasreen’s soft fingers holding hard onto to my arm, as if she didn’t want to let go. The days kept passing from one to another. Summer came. I got busy with my exams. I went to the mountains. Went to see other places. College opened and I came back.

This is where my memories of Nasreen end. That’s all I knew about Nasreen. Perhaps she was trying to tell me something, something she couldn’t say, something I didn’t understand. And now? God knows what she thinks, and may keep thinking for a long time. She will go far away to some jungle. We may never meet again. I’d never see that pretty, innocent face with curly hair. Those extremely soft eyes with big eyelashes would never look at me with such bewilderment. I’d never feel those beautiful lips that quivered as if they wanted to say something to me but couldn’t. I was sad, very sad, as if I had lost something, as if something had exited my life. If she had stayed here for many more years, I’d still be a wild man. Why am I so sad if she’s gone?

The branches of the weeping willow in front of me were moving with the wind. The sunlight was dancing on the leaves. But everything had this sadness in them: the leaves, the vines, the trees. The sunlight couldn’t make them happy. The flowers were also moving with the wind, were dancing with each other oblivious to everything around them.

I suppose there are different poles around which our lives revolve. Sometimes two lives come near each other from those poles, just to be separated. I looked up and saw clouds moving along fast under the clear blue sky, as if they were in a race. At times those clouds would merge with one another. When they merged, they’d form strange shapes. Sometimes they would change colors, too. Then they would separate. You couldn’t tell, then, if they were ever together. But they continued racing.

Just as those clouds, perhaps, our lives are also nothing but accidents. Nothing is orderly. Nothing as if it’s been designed in advance. We come near each other by chance. Then we get thrown apart. But the race continues…the race of life.