Clash Of Cultures

17. Good Friend

Noor

I sat down with the dinner plate in my lap and put my feet up on the coffee table, and looked at my watch. It was 7 pm. Which meant it was 5 am in Karachi, and my mom was probably praying Fajr, the early morning prayers. I decided to wait for another 10 minutes before calling her.

This had become almost routine for me now. After a tough day at work, I came home, made dinner, or watched TV till it was time for my mom to wake up for Fajr and then we would chat for about half an hour. In many ways I think I actually grew closer to her, after coming to the US.

In Pakistan, our lives had been so busy with my med school, both my parents work and my brother's endless sports activity. On most days of the week we managed to sit and have dinner together as a family and catch up on our day, but my brother was louder and more talkative than me. Besides, his day was always more interesting than mine so he did most of the talking on the dinner table. And I tended to stay in the background, which I did not mind at all. 

The time difference between Chicago and Karachi meant that when my day was ending, my mom's was beginning. And since both my dad and brother were not morning people, she was alone and free at that time. So we chatted about our day and family gossip without anyone bothering us. I had never realized how good she was at just listening to me. I was sure she never really understood most of what I was talking about, especially when I rambled on about work, but she always said all the right words at the right time. And I don't think I would have survived intern year without these conversations my mother.

Of course, I did not tell her everything. And boy did I feel guilty about it! 

I could hear her voice in my head, "If you can't tell your parents about something you are doing, you probably should not be doing it"

The problem was that I did not know exactly what I was doing that I felt guilty about. I knew it had something to do with Sal. But I wasn't having any romantic conversations with him, or spending time alone with him. In fact we had hardly spoken since our trip to Springfield, and that too was in a car full of people. I wasn't purposely avoiding him, though it was quite possible that he was avoiding me.

He is probably too busy with Samantha.

Mark had mentioned that Samantha had been accepted in a pediatric intensive care fellowship in Boston. It would make sense that Sal would accept the cardiology fellowship in Boston as well. After all, it was the number one program in the country, a beautiful woman who liked him (if you beloved all the circulating rumors about her), feelings he probably reciprocated, was going to be there and, he would be even further away from his parents who he did not get along with.

And there was nothing keeping him here.

I let out an involuntary sigh. Kimberly was right. He wasn't the kind of person who would stay on the market for long. And I was not the kind of person who would ever pursue a man, even if part of me cared about him.

What is wrong with me? Why would I ever want someone like him anyway?

All I am here to do, is to focus on my career. And he just a distraction. 

I took another deep breath, trying to clear my mind of unwanted thoughts about a man I had no future with, and looked at the time again.

7:15 pm...aah time to call my mom

Mom picked up the phone immediately, like she always did. "Salaam Mama, how are you today?"

"Wasalaam! I am good, how are you? How is service going?"

I told her about Mark and Emily and my new attending that month. I even mentioned a watered down version of the sexism I felt was left unaddressed with Mark. I didn't want her to worry about me, so omitted what I had overheard him say.