Chapter Twenty

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I have been trying to form some sort of new normal for myself, some sort of familiarity that's distinct from what I knew as familiar. Since moving back into the house my mother had envisioned to grow old in and construct a base for her family. A base that everyone would return to no matter how far life took us, she knew the house would symbolize a sense of belonging or a place where you will always be wanted even when the cold, harsh world washes you and drowns you with no mercy. But what is a home without a heartbeat, the soul... I can no longer see her, or feel it. So now I have to imagine and believe in it. Which is harder to do, but not impossible.

Every morning I go for a morning jog or walk, from six o'clock (after prayers) to seven thirty am. Before I jog back home, I stop by a small cafe - that opened up recently and get water, and so they know me now. It's been a while, so now they now know my pattern. Everyday they have my jug of water ready, waiting for me. Which is supper thoughtful. It took a while to get to know the streets, the roads to take - I learned through experience and my mistakes, which meant getting lost. I asked around when I was sure I was lost. But I managed.

It was hard establishing a new norm, previously it was my work. Now it's this, jogging every morning. It allows me to sort my thoughts, plus stay fit. I got into the cafe today, greeted the friendly and accustomed servers. My jug of water was ready, placed on the table I usually sit at. Now the place is new, and it hasn't caught up yet. And there is usually no new people, same people from the neighborhood or elsewhere which is rare.
So when Naveed walked into the cafe you can understand the amount of confusion and thoughts flying into my mind that had occurred.

My eyes were glued to him, his movements and his glances. I knew he would feel my gaze on him, but I didn't want to look away. He was here, and so it took me sometime to realize that he was actually present at the same place I am. Finally he spots me, unintentionally and unplanned, when his eyes met mine. I smile. He walks towards me and smiles back, and there's something about him that seems off. Maybe it's because he's not wearing the scrubs he has on when he is in the hospital.

"Hi." He waves and stands a few inches away from my table. I stand up from my seat.

"Hey." I reply. "What are you doing here?" I curiously questioned him, I needed to know why he was in my scene.

"I am good Amal. Thanks for asking." He says, satire laced in his tone. I realize how rude I sound and apologize immediately. "No it's okay."  He immediately responds.

"No it's not. You've always normalized my bad behavior." I said, feeling bad.

"I wouldn't use the word normalize."

"A medical term then?" I asked.

"Just a synonym." Quick at his reply, he smirks. Leaving my thoughts disordered for a moment.

"And what would that synonym be?"

"Typical." I keep quiet and look away. I didn't like the synonym he used, did that mean I was boring and predictable. Naveed spoke, interjecting my thought before they had escalated. Why do I care what he thinks? I mean he barely knows me now... I have changed, grown...

"There's nothing wrong with being typical, in your case for instance. It's nice to have some sort of predictability in this unpredictable world. It's calming really. Like how you know the waves will always come back when they move away from the shore... like that." He spoke so sure, and modulate. Towards the ends he spoke less sure of himself and somehow hesitant.

"I didn't know you were such a poet." I pointed out. His words had flattered me, but I still questioned the word he used to describe me.

"I might have dabbled with it in high school..."

"I can imagine. A Romeo you must have been." I interjected, and said. He chuckled.

"I didn't have the rest of the qualities to be a Romeo. One, I am not a hopeless romantic."

"You have the most important quality. I think that's the most important one."

"And what's that?"

"Your eloquence in speech." He smiled, and I took that a sign he had liked my compliment.

"But what's a Romeo without his Juliet?" He asked, taking step closer to me. As if he were trying to intimidate me, but it didn't work, well I would like to think it didn't.

"Alive." I say and laugh. He laughs as well, immediately getting my attempt of a joke.

"And deprived of true love." He said, and looks into my eyes.

"How's your wife? Oh and Manayer?" I changed the subject.

"Manayer is good. Wife?" He looked confused for a moment. "Ohh Manayer's Mum, she isn't my wife anymore. But she's well."

"I just thought..."

"Yes you would. It's very easy to do so." He spoke, before I finished my sentence. "I should get going now Mal." So that means he is a divorcee. Not that it mattered to me.

"Uh yah yah. I'll see you around." I told him and sat back on my seat. He ordered for his coffee and left the Cafe. I walked back home, thinking of our encounter. It definitely left an impression on me, one I can't simply forget. He never did tell me what he was doing in the neighborhood, but that's Naveed for you. A mystery. My brain wrapped around the idea that maybe he came to that specific cafe, at the same time as me because it was fate or meant to be. But deep down I already knew that he just came in to get coffee.

I got home, rushed to the bathroom. A cold shower, is what I needed. After the refreshing, and cleansing shower, I wore black sweat pants with a shirt. Put my hair in a bun and sat on my bed, just trying to relax and probably fall asleep, well if my brain allowed me. My body is exhausted but my brain in the other hand thought it would a great idea to reply the encounter with Naveed. However, the morninh has started - I am exhausted, I didn't have much sleep last night.

Anisa entered the room, and spoke:

"Dad is coming tomorrow."

"That's cool." I replied.

"It's been four years Mal." She stated.

"And?" I asked.

"AND it's dad. Show a little bit of enthusiasm." She said, her tone emphatic.

"Excuse me if I am not excited over Dad. He did some things I don't approve of and it just stuck with me." I explained. "I wouldn't even know where to begin if I saw him."

"Mal just give him a chance. Try to understand him, he experienced trauma, and he's also human."

"Anisa please stop talking, you weren't there. I also experienced trauma, I lost my mother, almost lost you and lost my father."

"He lost his ability to walk Mal! Show a bit of sympathy."

"I showed it, I wanted to be there with him. Instead I had to move on quick, live my life and forced into estrangement with my own father. He refused my presence, for me to be there for him - just so you know. I just wanted a reminder of home. You were in a coma, I was here in the real world. Dealing and coping with the fact that mum is gone, not sure if you will live, Imad and my own father treating me like a stranger, like someone who didn't need them or didn't require their love. It hurt, it still hurts. So excuse me for having my own feelings." I expressed, tears lingering on my eyelids.

"Mal sometimes I don't know if you actually hear yourself speak. Frankly you sound selfish. It's not always about you. We all lost someone. You aren't the only one who lost mum. And everyone has different ways of coping with loss."

"Anisa just get out. I have nothing left to say to you. If you don't understand, that's not my problem."

"Grow up." She spat.

"I have. I am waiting for you to do your own growing up that you missed while being in a coma." I said, without thinking about it twice. She walked out the room, and shut the door. Anger doesn't begin to explain what I am feeling. If she wants to paint me as an insensitive human being. All I know is that I did my part trying to reach out.

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