Fire soul

He's sitting in on the kitchen table, sprawled over the stool as only teenagers can. Arms askew, staring at his script, porridge forgotten, a mess in the background from everything he touched to make it.

Typical teen nonsense. But I can see past it to the little boy inside  - he had really blond hair when he was a toddler, only streaks left now. And he would look up and give that smile, his brown eyes so like Sarah's I can't help feeling love tightening like a vice around my heart and throat. Maybe it's because I remember him when he was little that the snark doesn't bother me. The lasting echoes of my sister's memory.

Ulrak doesn't like him at all. I can sense the huff of disapproval as he appears at the door and takes in the mess. he thumps in, leaving his own trail of mud from his boots, followed by those bloody bears he loves. I give him a warning look to not say a word and he closes the mouth before the first word comes out.

"Good morning wife" he kisses my cheek, and the nasty beasts at his feet push repulsively past my legs, their fur wet from the early morning dew. He smells of snow and pine cones and warmth, a calming presence despite the tumult of outside he's brought in with him.

"What's your plan this morning" I settle down at the table. Balrik just shrugs, gesturing with his head towards his cabin, and I can see husband grit his teeth, but he bites his tongue and stays silent.

"I'll need to fix the fence in the woods, something got in last night, maybe wolves." Ulrak guzzles down his coffee, a man on a mission.

"I have some work also, I'll be in my workroom I'll just settle Bizil before I head out" the cabins are in a circle around the compound, and the heavy trees obscure sound even on silent snowy nights. Ulrak goes for days on his hunts, or if I get busy stocking up my potions or my meditation, I sometimes lose track of entire weeks. Till the kids came, with news of devastation and horror, drawing us to daily routines like never before.

The happy chortling of a 4 year old comes from around the corner. being the youngest, Bizil lives right here with us. Afshal her maid, follows close behind, but almost immediately starts tidying up the mess  Balrik has made. Good girl, must tell her mother she's trained her well. 

Bizil, with her blond head and joy lights up all of us. "tata chu" she calls me, as she comes towards me, but then dodges my attempt to pick her up and cage her in the chair for breakfast, and ignores Ulrak's beasts her usual favorites, and toddles over to Balrik's stool and hugs his leg "babalEE uppiEE". He good humoredly yanks her up to his lap as she squeals with joy, and then immediately upends his bowl the second she gets access to his lap. 

"Ufff" Afshal huffs, "Balreeeeek you need to be more cArful" she says, with her lilt, but she's already mopped up the mess and put the milk out of reach, bless her.

"Bring her around to my workroom at evening Afshal, I have the feathers I need to braid her hair"

  

 ----

It's twilight, and I surface from the meditative state I get into when I'm deep in my potions. I need to lower the guards because Afshal and Bizil will be coming. I've been so engrossed in my work that I haven't notice the day go by. But before I can move, I hear it. 

A creak. 

A creak from inside the cabin, when I'm alone, and it's guarded by wards so nothing can get in.

I freeze, considering my options. I could yell for Ulrak, but by the time he gets here, even if he does hear, I'd be dead. I pick up the cutting knife and tuck it into my wristband. I feel it nick me just a little, giving me an idea, but I don't have time for that. I'm still hunched over my potion like I have been for the last hour, so the intruder may not realize I know they're here. but before I can finish the thought, she emerges from the shadows. The witch. the blight that destroyed my sister. And she's brought an army. 

----

I'm panting exhausted. My circle has kept them just outside unable to kill me, but I am near defeat. i am sweating, and I know even one drop falls and touches the line, they'll come through. 

The door flings open, and for a minute I feel hope that someone has heard and is coming. but stupid stupid me, it's Bizil and Afshal. how can anyone know we are under attack. the silent snow dampens everything and my wards obscure everything else. 

The forces of darkness ripple, and the witch screams, dropping the fight and running towards the door, Bizil too much of a prize, making the witch forget me. 

and in that sliver of a second I see my only chance. I launch myself from the circle of protection. my cutting knife now unleashed. I slash my wrist, and murmur my chants of blood, runes no human should know. the witch turns, sensing danger, and I can see Afshal has picked up Bizil and is running for the horses. the witches hounds 10 feet behind.

But my focus is the witch. My jump lands me clumsily on the ground at her feet, and my only hope is to touch her with the blood curse, and bind her.

but she is too clever. 

She dances out of the way, inhuman, like a shadow to my clumsy humanity. and in that close quarters, at her mercy, she kills me. 

Or to be more specific, she pushes my soul out of my body. 

I see it crumple at her feet, as Bizil screams, a piercing piercing scream that seems to shake the trees. that poor baby. She must have seen Sarah die the same way.

But Sarah was not a witch. 

My cutting knife, iron with my blood, with my runes, is now my holding stone. The tether for my soul to this world. I had a feeling I wouldn't make it, and this was my half baked plan, thought out in feverish nights after Sarah's death. How could i save her children, if the blight ever reached us in our corner of the isolated planet.

----

I am wind. I am weightless. I am snow. I am light. I stream past the witch, out the door against my will, my lifeless body with open eyes bloody on the floor behind me. The hounds leave my corpse alone, but the witch seems to know something is up. She blows some powder at me from her belt, and seems to know I'm incorpereal. I must go and warn Ulrak. I blow past Bizil and Afshal, a flurry of snow and wind, a thought only now, love and hope and warmth to Bizil as she sobs, and an idea to Afshal- go to Balrik. Afshal seems to hear, good girl, and changes direction from Ulraks woods towards Balriks' cottage. 

God be with them now, I know Balrik will save them. they have a chance. He has defeated them before, and is more powerful than anyone I have ever known.

---

Predictably, the blasted hounds are heading towards the house, at the speed of darkness. But I am wind. I blow through, faster than their shadows, as high as the sky and as low as the snow. I can sense Ulrak, he's not in the house, still in the woods. lighting torches, he too now knows it wasn't anything ordinary that broke through. I can see that his beasts are in full armor, as is he, patrolling the trees to find the intruders. he was too far to know they were already inside. he must see me, or the squall of wind and snow I'm bringing, because he stops and turns around. away from the woods, finally looking towards the danger. I only have seconds before the beasts, they're here. so am i. i will try to help. 

His face twists with horror and worry, as he finally sees. But he screams my name as the beasts reach, his blade is up and the bears are ready, But they have a fighting chance. I carry the flames from the torches, up up above, a phoenix in the wind, and light the woods on fire, driving back the shadows of the witch. He continues to scream my name, I can sense him crying in the wind, as he fights, the light defeating the darkness.

---

The bodyguard

Dismissal bell is long and jarring, but students pour out of classrooms relieved. May's baking sun beats on her arms the second she steps out of the exit hall, the school uniform's grey skirt and short sleeved blouse doing nothing to protect her from the desert heat. 

"Hey wait up!" Eileen huffs a little pulling on her bagpack as she scrambles next to her best friend. 

Amal turns around, looking thoughtful as she surveys her friend.

"That look means nothing good for me Amal! Stop it"  

"I have an idea. I'll owe you BIG time" Amal says businesslike, as she swaps bagpacks, pulling off their hairties. 

"Wait that's my favorite hairband!" 

"Shhhh Eileen!" Amal ruthlessly scrambles her friend's hair into a lopsided ponytail, and steps back to review her handiwork with a critical eye.

"Amal! don't lose that hairband. My sister will kill me, she let me borrow it" Eileen withers under Amal's flinty stare. "Ok ok she doesn't know I took it, i HAVE to give it to her ok"

"Sure, I'll give it to you in your car. I'll be in your back seat" Amal says over her shoulder as she scuttles off to covertly duck behind some seniors exiting the gate.

Wary but used to Amal's peculiarities, Eileen shrugs and makes her way towards the gate, spotting her car and driver in the rows of chauffers and parents lined up at school dismissal time.

A straight-backed marine like young man is standing front and center, garnering a lot of attention. The older girls are giggling giving him the side eye as they pass, nudging each other. The boys surveying him just as much, rolling their eyes at the girls.

Eileen sees her car and turns to head towards it. "Nice try young lady" A gruff voice grabs Eileen's bagpack, stopping her at the gate. She turns to gape at him, and takes in his clean cut jaw, pristine ironed t-shirt (in this heat!), khaki's, and buzz-cut. He's already attracting a lot of attention from the line of people at pickup, and Eileen is too busy staring mouth agape at the gun in the holster under his shoulder.

"GUN! GUN! HELP!" she screams and thrown herself on the floor screaming, as he stares at her flabbergasted. A ripple of concerned mothers start walking towards her, along with the school chowkidar and teacher on duty. 

He throws his hands up and stands stock still, as Amal's driver runs up to explain that this was the new bodyguard. The school security guard has shuffled up and is checking his papers, and a hysterical Eileen is led away by her sister and driver who stare down the man suspiciously as they retreat to their car.

The commotion has made Eileen completely forget the last few minutes of dismissal, and she shrieks when Amal pops her mischievous head up as if nothing has happened. "Gosh, you really are dramatic, Eileen! That was AMAZING! Here's your headband." 

----

The study is dark and appropriately somber. Fadi had gotten smacked by her father's chappal so many times in that spot. She's ushered into the room with a procession of a nanny and driver like a funeral march, the stale stench of cigar smoke and AC air hitting her as she walks in. Her father is sitting autocratically behind his desk, and the bodyguard at attention, sweating on the other side.

Her father spares her the briefest of glances, disappointment, anger, resignation, and sorrow, pulling his face down into unfriendly jowls. She feels very small suddenly, shame making her drop her gaze down to her feet.

The bodyguard turns to look at her with haunted eyes, and for the first time she realizes her afternoon lark had created unintended collateral damage. 

"You couldn't tell this was the child you were supposed to guard!?" my father's voice drips with ice.

"She.. she.. they all look the same. The bagpack was the same. I'm sorry" The man's neck is corded with stress as he struggles to swallow. 

Amal wants to hide under the desk like she used to when she was little. No she wants to go back in time, to dismissal time. No she wants to go back in time even further, to before, when her family was still whole and those wooden puppets masquerading as her parents didn't exist.

"Just leave please. I'll let you know if we still need your services after today" 

"I think that's for the best" the man says as he turns and walks out. 

Her father trains his gaze on her. Amal freezes. And then suddenly, he deflates, like a balloon. His shoulders collapse, and when he raises his eyes they're old and very very tired. "I know you must have pulled this prank Amal. But honestly i cannot understand why. You KNOW we did this for your safety."

Conference in Thailand

I'm carrying my phone and charger case and rushing to catch the elevator. The hotel hallway is spacious, but there seems to be a traffic jam of people and suitcases milling in front of the elevator doors.

"Excuse me. Oops, excuse me. Sorry!" As I thread through the milleau.

I slip in along with three tall men laughing and chatting with each other, seasoned travellers from the state of their trim but well worn luggage. I stare dumbfounded at the single silver LED panel with no buttons except for G and a blank one. Which one am i supposed to press!? I thought I was on the 5th floor, why aren't there normal buttons here? I press ground and see it flashes briefly like an error sign. The elevator doesn't move.

"in ko batao kay number dalna hota hai" I turn agape to hear urdu being spoken in Thailand of all places. 

The one closest to me looks at me for a second, weighing my intellect to see if he thinks I can understand the no-doubt complicated process, then suppresses an eye roll and takes out his wallet, and pulls out a note of currency which includes bhat, rupees and a bunch of papers, and then reaches over and types out a code in the panel.

"Oh. Thank you" I mutter as I wonder how many tourists would be able to figure that out. That too with no instructions written anywhere! "Are you from Pakistan!" I turn and ask him "I am too!" 

He looks down - yes I am that much shorter - and nods and one of the other companions says "yes we work for PIA". 

"Oh cool!" I didn't know we had such tall good looking people in our airline. Good for them. Represent. Best foot forward.

We reach the ground and I come out, and the lobby is open air and has the usual milleau of people that are in hotels, cars, suitcases, people chattering in all languages, coffee tables and waiters amid the chaos.

I turn around, completely disoriented. Oh yes, the conference I was here for. It was right here in the same hotel. I walk through the mass, looking for signs that might indicate a conference hall, when I see one of those double-action doors that swings in and out as people push through it. That looks like it. 

---

It opens up to a huge outdoor auditorium. I can see the street outside, cars trundling along under the hot sunny day. I must be late because the bleachers are completely full, and it's not standing room only. I'm pretty much in the last line, but I can see the earthen stage pretty well. The show's already started it seems, but it doesn't look like it's my conference. Must be another hall, I should go back. What looks like the Thai version of a circus ring leader and a huge white beard is pointing a theatric cane at a runway. Oh it looks like an aerial show. Wow. I catch the tail of some flying contraption that's been made to look like a Chinese dragon - obviously one of those small crop dusters - is gliding out of view.  It seems too small and silent to be a plane. It must be a paraglider. The crown gasps, and I quickly look over. The Chinese dragon is looping the loop and coming back for another circle. Ok maybe a microlight, paragliders can't do that can they? It threads through an impossibly small door at the start of the runway, and the crowd aaahhhs in appreciation and claps. Then it aims perfectly for the large barn doors at the end of the runway and makes it through as the claps turn to applause.

Cute, wonder what kind of machine that is. I want to look closer - are those.. feet? But I should get back to my conference. I pass a stall, and see some yummy food items. Oh those look good. And I hear someone say my name "Nakedfeet! Is that you!" 

"OMG G! What the heck are you doing in Thailand!" my favorite bakery stall owner is standing there. I had met her at another conference in Karachi a few months ago, where she had the same line up of some of the best hummus we had ever had. 

"Oh. Thailand? I'm not sure we're in the same time" She seems puzzled and seems to be mumbling, but then shakes her head and says louder "Yeah you know me, exhibiting everywhere" She laughs dryly, but seems to be about to say something but I have to cut her off. She doesn't think she's in Thailand? How strange. 

"Hey I'm running late for something, I'll need to rush, but please let's catch up!" I turn around, and walk back through the swinging door to the hotel lobby. 

---

I see a throng of people filing into a large wooden door with "Rice Room" in neon lettering above it. That must be it.  

I walk through the coffee tables and noise, in through the doors and up the small set of carpeted stairs and am met by these two lovely women behind the counter, registration card in front. I diligently fill it out, as the lady looks on with reading glasses perched on her mid-nose. 

I file in and try to find a seat at the back. The hall seems huge, but dimly lit and pleasantly airconditioned. But before I can sit I realize I forgot my charging case, it must be at the registration desk. Shit. Curse my terrible memory.

I walk back past the late comers and stragglers. 

"Did I by any change leave my charging case here?"

The registration lady tuts "We just gave it to lost & found love, head on out back near the elevators and you'll see the gentlemen there" 

----

Yet again I'm back rushing now towards a desk that clearly has miscellaneous lost & found items on it.  

"Hi! I can see my charging case here, thank you! I just left it at the conference room registration desk" I chuckle as I pick it up. The three men in indolent postures behind the desk seem indifferent, but one is cataloguing the items and holds up a finger for me to wait.

I try not to roll my eyes, he hasn't catalogued my case. And then I realize something else. Shit! I left my phone back at the registration desk. What the hell is wrong with me!

The muggy heat seems to have made me feel like I'm swimming underwater in some dreamscape.

"Hi! I left my phone back there, should I leave this here for you to catalogue or can I just take it and run back in a bit?"

The man clearly speaks no English, but finally waves me away which I assume to mean that I'm dismissed.   

As I walk up the carpeted steps once again, I can't help but think this feels like some sort of dream. The registration lady is looking at me highly amused, but thank God hands back the phone without incident. I grab it, and check the time and realize it's already time to go and pick up R from his class.

Gosh I haven't managed to do a single thing all morning.

I rush through the double doors aiming to cut through the arena and grab a taxi so I'm not late to pick up my son.

---

Did I walk through the wrong doors? What's going on?

The arena is completely empty, and gray. The sun blocked out by grey clouds. the runaway tarmac broken and algaed, with dirty puddles. The ring leader is still there, and I'm passing through but I have to stop and ask. He seems to have a white sheep sized animal next to him. What the hell is that thing? A capybara?

"What happened, everything was just ok a few minutes ago" I can't help but shout out to him. I can't seem to see the doors that lead out to the taxi area.

"They came and destroyed the place. My beautiful in-between space. I managed to barely fend them off. I feel like I've been here a millennia" His eyes are grey and haunted, like the sky. 

I feel a chill in my spine at the words. Oh. I'm in a dream. That explains everything. Baker G must have in the same place, she had a major auto-immune that made her more spiritual than most. And those PIA guys, I realize with a chill, they were definitely angels! Not the chubby child-like ones from western mythology, the kind that dealt in souls and death as executors of God's will.

I also realize that the animal next to him must be the Chinese dragon. Of course. That explains everything. This is a dream. I should just go one and get that taxi and get my son, he must be waiting. I am about to look around for it, but can't help myself.

"Hey, you know what that means?" This is too easy, and I can't stop the wry smile from my face. He looks genuinely confused, this being from the in-between space. Time for a little human humor. "It means you beat them all and still survived"

I see the realization spark in his eyes, and go from grey to bright blue, like the Karachi sky on a hot summer morning. His grin literally lights up the sky, the clouds part, and greenery starts flowering everywhere. The Chinese dragon picks up on this, and suddenly yips and jumps in the air and the barren empty sky becomes light with a rainbow trailing behind it. He jumps into the dirty grey puddle and it becomes a beautiful blue-green swimming pool. 

The ring master is grinning, and says "Yes that's the door, go there"

I see one appear right behind me. I don't think this was there a second ago. I couldn't have made it out in time without him. "Thanks!" I call out as I push through. 

---

I instantly feel deep deep regret. I'm not longer in Thailand. I'm in what can only be the subcontinent. The unmistakable post-colonial buildings. I hear a muezzin's call to prayer - Pakistan not India then - and hear the unmistakeable clip-clop of a tonga. I'm near a school alright, but not the one where I'm supposed to pick up R.  

I hesitate for a second, in complete panic. With dreams, you never know if you can get trapped inside forever. The door is still there, and even though I can feel like I only have seconds, I have to check. I open it and poke my head through again, to find the startled ring master and his dragon look up at me. 

"This will get me back to my son, right? Right time and place?"

He nods, and it about to say something but hesitates. Oh we're running out of time. He needs me to go through immediately.

I shut the door with a resolute click, and realize I have to trust the process. 

I step out into the light.

-----

I come to. My eyes are still closed, but I know I'm in my bed. My fever seems to have broken. I reach over and fumble on the bedside table for my phone. First day of school after the break, time to start!

Something Something, part 3

Amal

I have to squint a little to see clearly at the mirror now. Did that last botox already wear off!? I can see so many damn lines! I'm trying to remember the last conversation with my sister on the latest skincare regimens it's all blurring together I wish I cared gave more of a shit about my looks.

Makeup is a 7 minute process. Clothes already done. I'm out, and relieved. It's close, so I'm driving myself, even though I swear I've suddenly started going blind when driving at night. Those fuckers who did the lasik were right, I did get nearsighted post-40. 

"O EM GEE looking so HOT babe" Sehr hugs me tight as soon as I walk in, and I can't help but laugh at how over the top she is. We all love her for it. She's wearing the fabulous new Armani, and if I still had the figure for it I would have been jealous. 

I head over to the table next to the snacks, where predictably, Fadi is sitting along with the latest arm hanger. Some things never change. "Hey old man" we hug and air kiss, and it feels good to see him again. 

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with my friend" his eyes crinkle at the corners just a bit too, and I can't help but laugh. 

"Post vacation, new earrings, new botox guy is all I need to look this good" I mock courtesy, and we both crack up.

His date is looking at me very bewildered, and I suddenly feel awkward. God she's young.

"Helloooo. You must be Fahd's bestees sister Amal! He keeps talking about you!" she says sweetly, not a guile in her sweet shiny brown eyes. God she must be at least two decades younger than that old coot. I can't help but give Fadi a WTF look at I introduce myself and hug her hello. He is unabashed and shrugs back, as if he can't help dating insanely young women, like the gross old uncles we made fun of at those Sind Club nights. What were those nights called? Aladin nights? Shazam nights? Uff to be 18 again and be able to digest all that alcohol.

She squeals loudly startling both of us. "That soooonnnnnnnggg" she screams, and a gaggle of her friends come and they all descend to the dance floor which is mercifully outside and far away enough to save our ears.

I think about not saying anything, but I have to. "Dude! What on earth is that!" I can't help but punch his arm.

"Bumble! you will not believe how many of these amazing women are on it! She's a lawyer from London!"

"That is SO unfair. All I found were some super gross married men looking for affairs. So disgusting. Oh and that asshole M"

"M!?"

I suddenly realize I hadn't mentioned M to Fadi even once for some reason. "Ohh I see Sarah calling me" and I run for it.

----

Fadi

M! M! What the actual fuck. And just like that, all the work I had done, all the therapy, just as I thought I could see a future with this crazy talented woman I met on Bumble of all fucking places, but just seeing Amal again and I've relapsed. What the fuck is wrong with me. And just like that, I feel like familiar feeling of my brain collapsing to cotton wool. Why can't I just let this shit go. Toxic circles. This. This is why I don't leave the house. How many times do I have to do this to myself!

Ok deep breaths. Breathe in. Breathe out. Count to 10. You can do this.

But it's gone. The vibe I was enjoying, gone. The drink, sour, The music, alien and jarring - who the fuck actually likes Taylor Swift. I feel this familiar cloying desperation to leave and just the fuck back home. And fall asleep on the couch doom scrolling like always. Who the fuck is M. 

I make it to the entrance, and I'm getting into the car when she comes out. 

And all those years, all those times when we've met escaping some social hell, and I've stupidly been silent, and I have no idea what happens but before I know it I'm saying "Hey. Come for a drive, let's talk"

---

Amal

I'm about the laugh and say "Trust me to find you running away" but he surprises me with that. Talk about what I want to ask, but looking at this face, I think I already know. Holy shit. A part of me is not surprised, but a part of me is as well.

"Ok" i say slowly, and we both seem surprised by that.

Maidah

Running running running. Panting barely breathing. the monster at his heels. Shahnama had been given a grand name by his young and idealistic parents, his father illiterate, but his mother had recalled some poetry she had loved from her urdu class in middle school before she had been pulled out to marry her cousin and live a respectable life taking her place in the family. He heard a gutteral sound screaming amiii bachao, and he realized it was his own voice. Even as he ran he thought of the foolishness. 

She's dead. Why am I calling her. 

He never cried. Not when his father had dumped him and his brother at the shop as an apprentice. Not in all those nights of cold and hunger. Not even when his brother had died from the rapes and the beatings. Never. He stepped on some sharp rocks in the oasis, but didn't notice till his foot buckled. He was only 12, but he knew enough to know he would die if he didn't run. Just like Nuwan. His legs gave out just as he cleared the green foliage into the desert sand bleached white. All his life he had been told to go into the desert alone was death. That pause was enough for the monster to catch up to him.

Brown chaddar swinging, the monster was panting as well, his face glistening with sweat under the turban covering his head. His dhoti had been hurridly redone, since he had unfastened it when he had cornered Shahnama. The AK47 swung casually on his back, he hadn't bothered using it for the boy. He picked up Shahnama by the scruff of the neck, only to cuff him so hard on the head that the boy tumbled over the sand to the bottom of the dune. 

man qatala nafsam...

The voice startled them both. Shahnama dazed, jerked at the new voice, glassy eyed with terror and pain, looking up at the top of the dune. The monster's hands twitched to his gun briefly, but looking at the decrepit old man he relaxed. He turned to give his full attention, the boy a lesser priority. 

The stick dug into the desert sand as the Dasyu leaned his weight into it to get up. All living things had sought shelter in the burning heat, but he stood barefoot, a lifetime of living holding up his bones.

"Baba, tussi to bathay he raho, gir na jawan" (Hey old man, just keep sitting you may fall down) the monster laughed.

"insaanit hzaren salan khan hte rahe aahe، ۽ hzaren saala wadheeka rhinade. para jang ۽ jhidro abde lage tho" Humaniy has lived here for a thousand years, and will live here for a thousand more. but war and strife seem to be eternal 
The wind blew as it always did, sucking the coolness of oasis to the greedy desert, tugging at Dasyu's simple robes and long white beard.

"Jang! main jang larya si, ithay tau bus thora khail si. Tu bathay hi raho, main ni chanda kay tussi kuch ho jaya. Ai tu bus a etem si"  (War! I'm not fighting a war, just having fun. Keep sitting, I don't want anything to happen to you. This is just an etem/orphan)

"Fa am mal yateema fala taqhar" Dasyu may have seemed old, but he had walked the sands every day. His stick lashed out faster than the monster could see, clipping the throat.

The monster fell to his knees, clutching his throat trying to scream, eyes popping. Almost comically, his dhoti fell apart around his ankles. 

One more flick of the stick clipping the side of his head, and the monster tumbled down the dune, eyes staring unseeing, unceremoniously naked from the waist down, at Shahnama's feet.

Shahnama had seen death. Too much death. It had always come with the coppery stench of blood in the dark. His beloved mother, pale bloated lying in child birth and black blood, arms limp fallen sideways to the floor. His brother, frail, too skinny, curled up next to him cold and stiff on the charpai in the morning, blood and bruises congealed all over this little body. Yateem, the 5 year old orphan, coughing from pnemonia into his blood soaked hanky, finally succumbing somewhere in the night in the dormitory. 

But this. This was different. The blinding sun, the dusty white sand coating everything, the monster was just... a fat brown man with a small flaccid penis, neck at a funny angle, life winked out in seconds. 

He gaped up the dune as Dasyu, who stood looking out into the horizon unperturbed.

"wa laa tamootunna illaa wa antum muslimoon" the old man said, using his stick again to release a deluge of sand from the top of the dune sliding down to Shahnama who had to scramble out of the way. 

"hina khe etem chhade diyo" (leave him orphan) Dasyu said, addressing Shahnama for the first time.

Shahnama's brain hadn't quite caught up. looking at the half buried body, looking up at Dasyu, he just stood mouth agape.

"pahinje zindagi gzar" (go live your life) Dasya once again gently prodded Shahnama with his voice, breaking the spell. 

Shahnama blinked twice, gathered his wits, and then ran ran ran, this time steps not haunted by a monster, but light and airy as if he was stepping on clouds. 

Onward to his lifetime of living.

 It was a dream. We were all on a giant table, God somewhere at the throne, the angels flitting around. This is life, this is us living on earth, I realized looking around. No one else seemed to know I know. We were all holding hands, one hand on my mother, one hand in my fathers. 

Suddenly, an explosion. No. An expected earthquake. No one worried, but such controlled upheaval in such a small specific section of our benches, only us getting tossed hither skither, landing down. I'm holding Z. He doesn't look like himself, but I know it's him. I will always know him, his black and brown turd-like soul. 

The upheaval is coming again, and I'm.. conscious.. through it? spun around, knowing that i need to grab someone else. I reach through the abyss for Z. We land, and the angels are shocked. One slaps the elbow of another and tells it to look at me. What i've done. A crowd gathers, they don't see this often. I've grabbed Z with both hands. He is holding two other people, back to me, no longer looking. I chose him. I always chose him. Always, forever, that undeserving fucker.

This is what I chose. Holding on to someone who I wasn't supposed to. A life of loneliness. 

Getting Bumbled

Supposed to Zoom, he's out for a burger. 90 minutes later, I'm in my pajamas and reclining in bed, watching a movie. 

"You decent?"

Shit I guess I'm not, I sleep in girl-boxers and a tank. I grab a dupatta and text back "link?" and minutes later we're connected. 

God, he's cute. I've never kissed anyone with a beard. You idiot, you've only kissed one man. I can't but imagine what he'd feel like - good? scratchy? Would it help or hurt if he went down on me? My inner thighs twitch at the thought.

We're joking about the dupatta and talking about the party i went to last night, when I reach behind me to grab my green tea. One hand on the tea, one hand on the dupatta, the laptop shaky on the bed, I almost spill it. I'm trying to do damage control when I hear a squawk. 

Glance back, but my cup wobbles on the plate and i have to drop the dupatta to just steady it with both hands. Why is he looking poleaxed? I look down and I've lifted my leg to reach the bedside table behind me, and my knee is poking out. Shit he thinks I'm not wearing pants 

with horror I realize what things might look like from his perspective. Random stranger he's met on a dating app. Video calling him at midnight. Wearing scanty / no clothes. 

fuck

Should I acknowledge it? My brain automatically goes to humor, but I just simply cannot come up with anything funny about being naked. Point it out and deny it? That would just make it seem like I'm protesting too much. So I do the only things I can do - ignore it happened.

I turn around "cup got wobbly" i say mildly, he's still a little slack jawed. "so anyway, I escaped by 1 am eventually. How was your evening"

I see his jaw tick as he processes the question, and then his brow furrows and he takes a breath and then mentally shrugs and answers the question. 

For the rest of the conversation all I can think about is how to pretend to be as non-sexy as possible, and by the house he's relaxed and seems to be wondering if he imagined it.

I feel SO bad for judging shirt-less dude now.