Contents

  Uns

  Dedication

  Ghaflat

  Sifar

  Maazi

  Iztiraar

  Maazi

  Taghaful

  Maazi

  Qurbat

  Maazi

  Aashna

  Maazi

  Mukhtasar

  Maazi

  Izhaar

  Bedaari

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Uns

  A Short Story

  Zeba Ali

  Copyright © 2023, Zeba Ali

  All Rights Reserved

  Edited and Proofed by: Half Baked Beans

  @halfbakedbeans

  Cover Design by: Wiktoria Sklarek

  @vicaruss_

  Dedication

  To my kid, Zain, with whom I’m learning to live again.

  Ghaflat

  Carelessness

  The Blue Mountains changed its color with pastel shades of orange as the sun set on its journey for farewell. The majesty of the mountains was nearly forgotten by the people, busy with their race for food and work. Just like Sairah Hameed.

  The book stack made its usual sound as she slammed it inside the rack. Sairah loved her work as a caretaker of this library but surviving her day without her coffee was too much to handle. She again glanced at the giant wall clock showing at half past five.

  Still half an hour!

  "Mark!"

  Sairah had to yell from her desk because she knew, Mark would be at the farthest corner. The part where they had stacked all the children's fiction.

  "You can't survive without me even a minute?"

  "Nope."

  Sairah shook her head with a smile as Mark sat on her desk with a huff. As the people were busy in the hangover of the winter holidays, the rush was less than usual. Just a few nerds who were too anxious to leave books and attend the winter parties.

  "I'm so bored, Mark. Talk to me."

  Mark was the eighth-grade kid who used to hide in the children's section in between humongous books. Sairah totally knew what was the secret behind that. He just wanted to save himself from helping his mother in her grocery store.

  "I left those 20 pages just to hear you groan." Mark rolled his eyes behind his thick-framed glasses, sliding from the desk, "Grow up."

  "Look who is talking!"

  Sairah teased with a giggle as Mark returned to his usual spot, not before sticking his tongue out at her. For half an hour she had to kill time so she made her way to the washroom.

  Fixing up her scarf while looking in the mirror, she felt something weird. Like a heavy boulder was moving on the road and coming near them. Was Mark again doing some prank with her?

  "Mark! Stop it."

  Her heart was banging her rib cage as Sairah opened the door in a hurry only to lose her balance. Ignoring her imbalanced steps, she focused on the scene which was more horrible than anything else.

  The huge bookshelves were shaking like they had no weight. The silence of the library was disturbed by the dangerous thuds. Her eyes watered seeing the cracks forming on the floor.

  She had to find Mark and leave this place. Sairah had to do something. She couldn’t let him or herself die in this earthquake.

  Sifar

  Nothingness

  The faint sun was doing its best to sparkle the majestic architecture. Shadows of cat claw creepers on the brick wall felt dim in the setting sun. The Royal Hospital of Newcastle had less rush than usual but Uzair Ahmer was busy in a three-hour-long surgery. A heart surgery in which he was assisting his senior Dr.Thomson.

  "Good work, Dr.Ahmer!"

  A faint smile rested on his lips for a mere moment as Uzair nodded his head. Removing the gloves, he headed towards the washroom. Maybe he needed a little rest. It was the fourth day he ditched going home.

  "Don't think, just go."

  He knew who it was. Ken, his colleague of four years. Uzair hated Ken for understanding him so well, even in silence. Perhaps it was because they were childhood friends or maybe because they both had seen the roller coaster rides in each other's lives for twenty-three years.

  "I don't feel like it," Uzair wiped his hands with the napkin as he saw Ken playing with the faucet, "and stop doing that!"

  The constant whoosh of water irritates him.

  "We have to do some things that we don't 'feel like'." Ken air quoted and Uzair moved past him for the exit.

  "Who can know better than me"

  He knew by the taps behind him that Ken would bug him more when all that Uzair needed was some time alone. His heart was emptier than usual as if someone removed a thing from his heart that he didn't know was there for so long. It felt odd and he couldn't comprehend why it was like this.

  The silence of the hospital broke with the loud sirens of the ambulance and the crowds that scattered around in search of help. The place became congested for him as the air felt to be holding the smell of soil, blood, and ruins. There was a sound of crying, mothers with helpless tears, people with wounds and blood.

  "Uzair, move."

  It was Ken who shook him. He didn't know for how long he was stuck in that one place while the whole world revolved so quickly. He moved to the ambulance that had just stopped and the door opened to reveal an unconscious kid whose face was red with blood.

  "Move him quickly."

  That voice. Uzair could never forget that voice.

  The girl ran with the stretcher as Uzair again remained rooted to his spot. Could someone just force him to work? He was a doctor, for God's sake and he was behaving like a prissy. He turned around to look at the girl who was now entering the main door, her hand holding the bag tightly, her habit of every day. Maybe she didn't notice him.

  Did this earthquake seriously push him back in Sairah's path?

  Maazi

  Past

  I

  The train made its mighty presence as the loud sound broke every tiny silence around. The six-year-old Sairah tightly held her mother's skirt to move along with her. She could feel something inside her, that thud constantly going near her chest like she was at some wrong place. Her legs had to move on their own as the packed crowd pushed her ahead. Sairah's hand left her mother's skirt as her father picked her up in his arms.

  "Ya Habibi, move fast."

  Her father, Hameed yelled at her mother above the noise and chatter of the rush. She knew her mother would be mumbling something in her native language but Sairah didn't want to hear that because her eyes were stuck on her father's bandage. The wound that he got while coming from work.

  Sairah tried hiding her face behind her father's shoulder. The images of that day came back to her when her father came with blood coming from his forehead and ordered her mother to pack quickly. Sairah was running behind him to wipe that blood off, she didn't like seeing blood. But her father wasn't paying attention to her. He just kissed her forehead once and got back to pack his stuff.

  Sairah had no idea what was happening. Why all of a sudden, they were on a train? She only heard her father saying that difficult times were coming for them. It was not safe for them to stay in Tripoli. But she didn't want to move from there.

  She was praying that they could just go back to their old house. Sairah loved her house. It was not as big as Fatmeh's, but it had everything. Her small room was stuffed with two dolls and mud toys, and a kitchen with two more rooms. The wall of some rooms showed bricks but Sairah found it too beautiful to see.

  "Abi, where are we going?"

  "I don't know, Sairah!"

  She never heard so much haste in her father's voice as they made their way among the crowd. Sairah just wanted to go back.

  Iztiraar

  Restlessness

  Sairah made sure to fist her hands to hide their shaking. Her mind was torn between her family and Mark. She had no idea about her family or Mark's condition either. It was all in a flicker of an eye. She had had fun with Mark a few minutes ago and now he was in the operation theatre.

  Royal Hospital was one of the oldest hospitals in Newcastle. Sairah was grateful that they had rooms enough for everyone. She would make sure to keep Mark away from the library until he didn't get healed properly.

  Didn't know why he never listened to her. Sairah told him every time to never sit in those corners to read, but he had to do it. Because she used to bug him. But that single mistake had brought him here.

  Those huge bookshelves had fallen on him making his head bleed. By the time the rescue team brought him out, he was taking shallow breaths. Sairah never wanted to lose him. She didn't want another connection to break.

  "Miss. Let me bandage you."

  An elderly nurse held her hand to make her sit on the chair. Sairah looked at her hands pouring sanitizing liquid on the cotton ball. She killed a wince on her lips as the cotton ball touched her cheek. She was so engrossed in Mark's condition that Sairah had no idea about her wounds.

  This was the biggest earthquake Australia had ever witnessed and she knew that the earthquake must have taken many lives. She didn't know how Abbu and Ammi were.

  The loud siren of the ambulance again filled the running chaos of the hospital. The place was full of hustle. Sairah had seen many patients going through various rooms.

  The door opened with a click forcing Sairah to stand. She looked at the doctor with hope but her throat became parched looking at the man behind him.

  Uzair Ahmer.

  The man was now doing his best to avoid her gaze. How could she forget him? Those eyes. Those sharp blue eyes that were looking at everything but her.

  "Miss, you're with this kid?" Sairah nodded at the doctor's question. "We did our best but he lost a great amount of blood. I'm not sure if he could survive. We just have to wait."

  Sairah nodded again but this time her body was losing its energy. She pressed a hand on her collarbone. Her gesture was to remember that she was in a panic and needed control.

  From the corner of her eyes, she saw Uzair who waited a little too much even when the other doctor moved away. But she sat on the waiting chair ignoring him and the prick in her heart as if they didn't exist. Just like she was living till now, without him.

  Maazi

  Past

  II

  The sun shyly granted another morning to the people of Newcastle in the bone-chilling winter. Sairah picked up the stack of Women's Weekly and Sydney Herald, moving towards the rack at the main door. She would never understand her mother and her affection for Kibbe. She would make that pathetic meat pie, that too in breakfast, and force her to eat it.

  "Another morning without food?" It was Matthew, the librarian whom she used to assist in the winter holidays, mostly without breakfast. He was an old man in his early seventies, always spoke in his thick Australian accent but was a decent fellow, the reason why Abbu gave her permission for this job.

  "I mean can you imagine it's the fourth time this week she made Kibbe." said Sairah while putting the magazines in the rack, "I don't understand why she can't make me some other dish."

  Matthew fixed his glasses with a smile while going back to his seat. She was assisting him every winter for three years and now he knew every syllable she would utter in the morning or maybe he knew how moody a sixteen-year-old can be.

  "You will be here at noon, no?" Matthew called her as she fetched her half-finished novel from the shelf, "I have to grab a gift for Emma."

  Emma was his granddaughter who was celebrating her sixth birthday today. "Yes." Sairah nodded, flipping the pages. She was craving a sandwich or something. Her mind reached a peak point of anger in hunger. Sairah had no idea how would she survive the afternoon.

  "Finish this."

  A plastic container slid towards her showing two pieces of cheese sandwiches. Sairah didn't know how to show her happiness as she gave a big smile to Matthew. A smile that was unusual for her.

  ***

  "That bloke never sparing us!"

  Uzair hummed at Ken, finishing his soda can. That thesis would kill him. He needed a good sleep but his professors were hot on their heels for him. He would be all fine if that thesis submission was not due in six weeks. Uzair didn't even think about the title yet.

  "Mate, I think that's a bad idea," James yelled from behind as they walked towards the library. The only solution to their piled-up problems. "I hate looking at books."

  "Books hate looking at us too. That's a fair deal." Uzair said kicking his soda can, "But now we don't have a choice. My old man will kill me if the college kicks me out!"

  "Nothing to fret here mate. You can always do a job in your old man's hospital."

  "As if."

  Uzair twisted his lips at the mention of his father. He was the strictest dad on the whole planet. A surgeon by profession, he didn't feel any difference in cutting people's skin or their self-respect. That's why Uzair rarely spoke to him.

  "I'm going to the biology section," James announced loudly while entering the library pushing Uzair and Ken in a fit of snickers.

  “We know what you want to see there.”

  "Don't be a whiner mate" said James running towards the biology section.

  The lot moved towards the science section to grab some medicine books. James was the loudest of them. In between their constant snickers and talks, they didn't pay any attention that they were not alone.

  Uzair looked up from the book as he felt a silhouette stopping in front of them, his smile vanishing with every passing second. A girl with furrowed brows was staring at them, her lips pursed while she put the book in her hand on the table.

  "This is a library." She spoke in a thin accent, just like his grandmother spoke Arabic.

  "Oh, Uzair, we thought it was the cinema hall."

  Uzair didn't pay any heed to James as he was still looking at the girl with a long black braid.

  She wasn't that beautiful, was she? Like who wore those extra baggy clothes? It was the 1980s, for god's sake!

  People ignored them at any cost because skirts and minis were the new trends. Then why was he unable to look away? Her eyes were still on them as she angrily fixed her round glasses.

  "Oh really! But you have to stay silent even in a cinema hall too so that you don't disturb others. Shut up now." The girl picked up the book and gave him a cold glare, moving away. She threw her long braid back on her waist and Uzair felt as if some kind of mesmerism broke.

  Taghaful

  Indifference

  Her lips barely moved. Her thumb tapped on her fingers. Her eyes were closed, the only thing Uzair was grateful for. Because he could stare at her all he wanted. She was sitting at a distance, on one of the waiting chairs.

  She hadn't changed a bit in these four years. Except for the scarf over her head. It's rare to see girls wearing scarves nowadays. Sairah Hameed would never follow trends. When people used to wear tight clothes, she was going behind baggy ones, and now this scarf!

  But that scarf wasn't stopping her face to glow. Her porcelain white skin was still radiating just like the first time he saw her.

  The sky turned into a darker shade as the night widened its wings. Uzair took a sip from his cup, his shoulder rested on the wall. He could search for a new task or something fruitful. But seeing Sairah Hameed after a long time had snatched his brain cells.

  "Your girl, isn't she?" Uzair straightened on Ken's voice as he stood beside him. "You talked with her?"

  Uzair shook his head, "She doesn't even look at me."

  Ken nodded. He was the only one who knew what he had done. More likely, what a great mistake he had made.

  In between their talk, Uzair stopped speaking as Sairah looked at their way. Her lips stopped mumbling as her eyes furrowed for a split second and then she looked away.

  "It's graver than I can imagine man."

  Uzair looked at Ken who moved away from him, not before patting his shoulder in a consoling manner. Why did she have to come back in his life?

  ***

  "The farthest room is good for you."

  The elderly nurse showed her way to the place where she could offer her prayers. She wasn't regular with her prayers. Like praying two or three prayers a day. But the wait was overwhelming for her.

  Sairah couldn't sit idle and let the negative thoughts fathom her, the thoughts about her family, Mark, and whatnot. The landline of the hospital was working but nobody was picking up the call at her house.

  She bit her lower lip. Her father's face was the only thing that Sairah could remember right now. And that pushed so many tears to her eyes. Ummi would be fretting over her absence, killing Abbu's ears with her loud blabber. Abbu was a calm man but her mother always kept him on his toes.

  Sairah was getting emotional with everything around her. Maybe due to hunger. She didn't have a proper lunch and now she didn't have guts to eat.

  She regretted opening the door of the room to spot Uzair on his prayer mat.

  He was making a dua and when she turned around, his voice stopped her.

  "Stay. I'm going."

  Sairah didn't turn to look at him again. She couldn't. That would remind her of the time when she met him for the first time.

  Just when she thought he was gone, Uzair was in front of her, forcing a gasp from her. He put a chocolate bar on her prayer sheet holding hands and took a step back from her.

  "I know you get too emotional when hungry."

  The corridor echoed with his voice for a moment as Sairah stared at his back, not liking the details he still remembered about her.

  Maazi

  Past

  III

  He made sure to not make any noise, he would find out who was the criminal hiding behind that curtain.

 

1 2 3 4