- What if the world told you 'men never change'. Would you still believe in redemption?
- What if your whole life is shrouded in secrecy. Would you shed your mask for one person anyway?
- What if an avatar intrigued you. Could you fall in love with...
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Ameerah
As the gentle embrace of dawn unfolded, its first rays delicately seeped through my curtains, casting a warm and golden hue, bathing my room in serenity. Typically, I relished waking up to this tranquil scene. Nestled in the comfort of my bed, I was often found scrolling through the day's news on my phone, cocooned within the soft folds of my duvet while the AC hummed in the background. Only forced to leave this haven by Ami's persistent calls of breakfast being served.
Yet, today, the morning after Farah visited my home, the sun's rays seemed to sear into my eyes. The AC had decided to give up on me sometime during the night. I had cracked the window open, but the usually refreshing morning breeze from the nearby ocean now felt stifling. The aroma of breakfast wafting in from the kitchen, where my mother had already started her day, became oddly nauseating.
"Wake up Ameerah," came her shrill voice along with a rap on my door. "Your Abu is already at the table."
"Coming," I muttered, burying myself deeper into the duvet.
Though, a second and a third call later, I was the reluctant companion of my parents. Listening to talk about their day's plan and their recent trip to Nathiagali. My mother, Afreen Sheikh, a homemaker, had a committee party. My father, retired Air Commodore Nauman Sheikh, had a board meeting at the Defense Housing Authority's Golf Club.
"What is your plan for the day?" Abu asked me.
"I'm meeting Osman at the shelter at noon. He's leaving in a few days, so I just have to finalize some things."
His eyes narrowed. "Shelter," he scoffed, never one to hide his displeasure. A trait I solely learnt from him.
Ami, as always, tried to cover up for him. "Beta, what Nauman means is that you could have found a job in any major hospital in Karachi."
"You're a US trained physician for God's sake," Abu's scornful voice broke any restraint I might have had since last night.
"So what? Do the abused and battered teens not deserve medical care? Or are you just ashamed of telling your friends that I work at a shelter and not at some fancy tertiary care hospital for the rich?"
Abu frowned, his dark eyes radiating the disappointment he had harbored since the day I returned and announced my intentions. My mother's mirrored his, but she was adept at concealing the unpleasant with a veneer of gold and guild. Ignoring harsh realities had always been her strategy to save face.
"Nauman, beta Ameerah, let's just have breakfast, please. It's not healthy to start the day off with arguments," she said, one hand strategically placed on Abu's arm while she extended the bread basket to me with the other.
After only a few seconds of tense silence, she asked Abu, "Did you hear Brigadier Butt was elected the new secretary of Creek Club?"
Abu nodded, not bothering to take his eyes off the newspaper. "Looks like Russia is gaining the upper hand against Ukraine," he remarked.
