My Best Friend

"It was the 15th of July, 2003. Something like a sandstorm came and lasted for several minutes. Then there was a heavy downpour. It is amazing how the weather of Karachi changes within seconds. Unfortunately, I had to go somewhere urgently at that very moment. Without an umbrella, I made my way, shivering in the rain. Some people drove away quickly to escape the rain and its aftermath -- what with the already uneven roads becoming mud pools and your car getting stuck -- while others came out of their houses to enjoy the infrequent pleasure of the monsoon season. I sat on a scooter-rickshaw and…"

No, this is not a story about the crisis resulting from sudden and heavy rainfall in Karachi. This article, published on the 16th in a local newspaper, was brought to my notice by my friend. Having read this far, I looked up at my friend, bewildered and thought to myself, "Hey, I’ve lived in Karachi these twenty-three years. Why is he so eager on my reading this article on the chaos caused by rainfall in town? I’ve had many such experiences myself."

My friend looked excited and as he saw me look up, asked, "You see?" And pointed his finger at the article. I looked back at the article to figure out the reason behind my friend’s excitement. My eyes suddenly fell on the writer’s name: Sameera S. Naqvi. That rang a bell. I was good at remembering people.

"Oh," I said. "You are showing this to me because it has been written by Sameera."

"You remember," he said, smiling.

"What?" I asked.

"Her? You remember her?" He seemed very happy at the thought of my remembering her.

"Yes, of course. She studied with us in A’level school and…"

"I’ve found her at last!" he exclaimed.

I stopped and wondered for a minute and two and then spoke, "Well, I didn’t know you were looking for her."

"Yes, I was."

"Well, why?"

"I’ll tell you later. First tell me whether you will come with me to look for her or not?"

"How will you look for her?"

"She’s still in Karachi."

"Yes, enjoying the rain," I said sarcastically. "It rained everywhere that day. How can we possibly find her this way?"

"Let’s go to this newspaper’s office first."

And he pulled an exasperated me, away from my work, to hunt for this female. My friend had an answer for each of my queries but he didn’t tell me why we were supposed to look for her. I fancied many things. Maybe he wanted to ask about other people at school, with whom we were no longer in touch. But why approach her specifically? She was quite an introvert,
as far as I could remember. Maybe, Hamid remembered her politeness and wanted her to get married to his brother. Yeah, this was one of the important things on our agenda these days -- look for a bride for Hamid’s elder brother. But why her of all the girls we had considered so far? No, no!

Well, what were the other options? He had never shown any interest in her -- the love sort -- and he wasn’t the one to hide his feelings. I was. And around the time we actually found her, I was so irritated with him that it was hard for me to control my temper and assume the role of the forever-patient friend.

We were in a mess. It was raining hard. It was late in the evening. The cacophony of the cars stuck in the traffic jam, on Tariq Road, was becoming unbearable. I stopped as we saw her. She seemed to be waiting for a taxi. This time she had an umbrella, but looked tired and irritated, as the rain poured down continuously.

A sudden thought frightened me. What if she was someone else with the same name? But then I recollected that my friend had confirmed all details at the newspaper office, which was where she worked. The entire problem had been tracking her that day.

She turned as Hamid called her name. Yes, she was definitely the same person I used to study with four years back. She recognised us with some difficulty. After exchanging a few greetings, I fell silent, waiting for Hamid to reveal the mystery I had been trying to solve all day. But to my annoyance, he said that he had to say something in private and took her inside one of the shops.

I strolled in another and spent about half-an-hour staring blankly at cotton shalwar kameez suits, while the shopkeepers repeated their prices to me, looking at my pocket expectantly. To their disappointment, nothing except Benson & Hedges and a lighter were seen to come out of it during that time.

My friend finally came to me. I did nothing to suppress my fury but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. He smiled and remarked that ’we should return to our homes now’. I said nothing all the way back home, sitting in the wet rickshaw. I did not even say goodbye to him properly but he did not seem to notice, perhaps deliberately, for avoiding any questions.

"I am not going to ask you," I grumbled as I entered my house and he went his way, in some dream world of his own. "Wasted my whole day!"

That night I dreamt of Sameera and… Hamid. They were getting married. Hamid had not even invited me. Had forgotten his best friend entirely. The venue was Sheraton Hotel, where we had planned to hold bhaiya’s wedding. I broke in while the mirror ceremony was being performed and hurled abuses at my friend. Everyone stared at me. It was weird. Rather suffocating. I woke up with a start.

The day at the office was not so good as well. My mind was still full of visions from my dream -- rather nightmare -- and my boss was upset at my inefficiency (what with yesterday’s absence and today’s inattentive behaviour). To add to it all, Hamid was yet again engaged in his own mysterious thoughts.

He seemed to be planning and making calls, rather than sitting at his computer, doing office work as usual. I stared at him through my cabin’s glass, then set to work as I saw my boss on his round again and wondered why he never caught my friend ’doing irrelevant work and day dreaming’.

The next day, which was Friday, the 18th of July, I decided to take a day off. My friend’s behaviour had made me pretty upset and I wanted a day by myself. It was also my birthday. My friend would surely remember it as he always did but I didn’t want any forced greetings and celebration, especially when he seemed to be so busy with some other things. I planned to do a full time job on Saturday instead. Ours is a small office. No formalities. I thought that I would convince my boss that adjustments could be made, since I always complete my work before the deadline.

I did not call my friend. I was hesitant for once in so many years of friendship. Well, six years. Maybe not that much but still. Something seemed to have come between us all of a sudden. Why had he taken me along with him that day if he did not plan to tell me anything about it?

I guessed. Ofcourse! Because I knew somebody at the newspaper office and he had to go in and find out details, which he couldn’t without my mediation.

Hamid did not call the whole morning. In fact, no one called. In the afternoon, while I was fixing up something for lunch, the phone bell rang. I picked up the receiver quickly. It was Hamid. He spoke in a clear, emotionless voice, "Hey Sadiq, you okay?"

"Yes, I am. Why?"
"Okay, good. I was just wondering because you didn’t show up at the office today. Taken a day off for your b’day, huh?"

"Hmm."

"Okay. Can you come?"

"Where?"

"To Copper Kettle. That’s not very far from our office."

"I know. Been there many times," I spoke indignantly, trying to show my friend like a fourteen-year old that I had been to more places than him.

My friend didn’t seem to notice my puerile attitude or the arrogance in my voice. He just confirmed and put down the phone. I was extremely irritated. Hamid did not seem to notice any uneasiness on my part. In a day, he had become so insensitive!

I entered the restaurant, having regained my self-control after the long drive. I instantly caught sight of him. He was walking towards me and hugged me suddenly. I didn’t know what was happening. He was very emotional as usual but today I could not find any reason for it.

"Happy Birthday!" he said.

I knew that he remembered my birthday but what was so special about it this year?

"Thank you," I replied sourly and looked straight at him. Was he making up for his behaviour during the past two days? Was he going to tell me his secret now? He grinned at me and said,
"You remember what you said a month back?"

"I must have said a lot of things," I replied.

"You were remembering school days."

"So?" I raised my eyebrows to show my incomprehension.

"So, I thought of bringing them back to you, just for a day."

"Huh?"

But he was no longer listening to me. He took hold of my arm and made me face the other way round. I saw a group of people sitting at a long table, all looking at us intently.

I recognised them gradually. I was seeing most of them after about four years. We had been together in high school. Then most of us had gone separate ways -- different institutes, different places, different professions.

As they started wishing and greeting me, all those pleasant memories came back to me. I looked at Hamid and laughed, embarrassed at all that I had imagined in the previous two days.

He whispered, "For the past month I have been contacting all of them. Had to seek your help to find Sameera. I hope you didn’t suspect anything with regard to your birthday. I wanted it to be such a surprise!"

I laughed slightly, blushing at my thoughts. He continued,

"Most of them are here except Raza who is in Dubai, Sofia who has left with her husband for America, and that cute memon girl with grey ey…"

"Let’s leave the details out for later," I whispered and hugged my best friend again, very emotional for once.