Before Time (The Time Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

“I hope that day never comes,” I grumbled. She just laughed at me.

We bought her a pair of sandals to match her outfit, and then she was satisfied.

“Thank God! You didn’t need anything else to go with your dress.”

“Well, you never know. Let’s go to Mocca Coffee now. I’m sure I can tempt you with their scrumptious pancakes.”

“You got me there,” I said, laughing.

Ten minutes later, we were at Mocca Coffee and sat in a comfortable corner. The café was almost empty except for a few stragglers like us. We ordered coffees and pancakes for ourselves.

“So, what’s new?” I asked her.

“Nothing, man; I’ve been sleeping so much, I don’t know why.”

“Why?”

“No idea. I just can’t get myself to wake up at all.”

“Well, maybe it’s the fatigue. You’ll get better once you’ve slept enough.”

“Maybe.”

“Tell me about your best friend, Mahum,” I asked sarcastically. Mahum was actually my friend, whom I had known for eight years, but since I’d introduced her to Sarah, her priorities had changed. It wasn’t Sarah’s fault that she was rude to me.

“She’s alright. I heard something really weird about her, though.”

“And what that might be?” I asked.

“Remember that group, Omar and some of his friends? The same guys who came to Alina’s birthday party last month?”

“Oh, yes! You know I didn’t like them one bit.”

“Yes, I know. Well I got to know something really weird from them. One of their friend, Ahmad, is also a friend of mine. He told me that…”

“What did he tell you?”

“Last week I told you that Faisal visited my cousin’s house and slept with his girlfriend there. Remember? And I also said that they broke the bed.”

“Oh, yes! I remember,” I said, confused.

“Well, you know that girlfriend I was telling you about was Mahum.”

That dropped like a bomb. “No shit?” I asked. She shook her head.

“Why?” I groaned. It was common knowledge that Omar’s group were the friends of Mahum’s brother. If he found out what she had done, all of us would be in the line of fire. Her family would blame Sarah and me, because it was Sarah who had introduced Omar’s group to all of us.

Shit.

Now what are we going to do? And why was Mahum keeping a secret like that from us? Didn’t she know we would find out?

“Well, she didn’t bother to tell us; why should we bother? I’m worried about her brother if he finds out. What does she think, that we’re in the west and nothing matters? She’s out of her mind. Sicko,” Sarah said.

“Exactly. Her mother is going to have my head on a platter if she finds out, and you know, her brother’s already against me.”

“I know. She’s crazy.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Remember a few months back when Alina’s parents found out that she had a boyfriend? They grounded her for a good six months.”

“I remember.”

“By the way, I don’t like Alina at all. I feel that she’ll hurt you in some way.”

“She was my friend long before you. She won’t.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t,” I said, sighing sadly.

These girls—how could they be so foolish about love? Why didn’t they understand the rules of the society? Why did they ruin their lives? I asked myself. I knew dating and this sort of thing were perfectly ordinary elsewhere, but in Pakistan, girls couldn’t simply go around with whomever they liked, doing whatever they liked. Our own friends were making mistakes that would could never be erased.

Sarah and I had a great day, gossiping and shopping, and then we went to a movie. I came home around eight for dinner. When I came to my room, I logged on mIRC. After that incident when Casinoguy had abused me, nothing else happened. My life was far too peaceful. I was free from my exams and had nothing on my plate. I used mIRC to keep me entertained and busy; otherwise there wasn’t much to do at home. I always hated vacations, whether they were long or short. It seemed now that I was on a long vacation which would never end. Another month passed just like that, and I didn’t chat with Impassioned much.

We chatted again in November, almost two months later. We talked only a little in-between; I liked the silence from him, the space to think. I wasn’t the clingy type, and I preferred space. I was having one of my depressing, low self-confidence spells that day, so I messaged him.

I have always believed that I am not pretty; at least, that’s what society tells all plus-sized people. Whenever I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw an awkward girl with no self-confidence, weird facial expressions which made her look almost ugly, and with no beauty at all. I saw someone with low self-esteem, lower confidence, and a person who was trying to hide from the world.

ME: People tell me I’m pretty, but I don’t believe them,
I wrote, my cheek resting on my palm as I waited for his response.

I switched the window to his private stream to check if he’d replied. Two minutes passed. His response made me smile.

Impassioned: How can they say that without looking at your heart? :) Never trust such baseless compliments. You are the only one who knows who you are.

ME: I think I’m not good.

Impassioned: My dear friend,:), in order to become a winner, you must accept yourself as a loser first. You have already taken the first step towards that.

I smiled.

ME: :) Since I was thirteen. :)

That’s a bad habit of mine, to smile a lot; but then, I smile a lot in real life too.

Impassioned: Precious. :)

We were smiling a lot, but I didn’t care. I liked talking to him. I sent him another smile.

Impassioned: Very few people in this age have such stability and wisdom; I am happy to know you.

ME: Same here. Some people just don’t realize.

Before I could write anything else, I had to rush away because my mom was calling me. When I came back, he’d left.

Sometimes it’s not a good idea to play with fire. When our parents tell us not to go near the fire, that we will burn ourselves, we should listen to them. They’ve already been through what we’re going through. In our arrogance, we don’t stop and listen. The glitter of mischief attracts everyone.

What I learned from those experiences would always stay with me, but it would not prevent me from burning more than once. I was ready to play with fire, but not ready for the consequences. I just wanted to taste danger, perils and something nameless. Whatever it was, I was ready to be slain. My inner feelings were guiding me towards my destiny.

Chapter 2

I hardly got the time log in to mIRC, as I was busy with the preparations for my sister Aliza’s wedding. It was at the end of November, but time seemed to pass so quickly. It felt like the wedding was upon us before I had looked at the calendar twice. My clothes weren’t even ready. Weddings are the most boring functions here in Pakistan; the bride and groom sit on the stage like ornaments to be ogled, scrutinized and commented upon. Their clothes, jewelry, makeup and even the shoes get picked over. To me, the couple looks like sheep going to their slaughter. I really hate weddings, except when my own siblings are getting married; then it becomes fun for a change. For two weeks, I was swept up in the whirlwind of activities as the wedding preparations continued.

Aliza’s wedding wasn’t a full-fledged celebration, but we wanted it to be. It was only happening because she had to move to abroad with her husband and it was a requirement for her immigration. So, we had total of two functions to attend for her wedding, and it was going to be hellishly busy. The first function was the Henna ceremony. That would be fun, I thought. It was traditional that in the Henna ceremony, the bride’s hands were covered with Henna designs, as it was said that it brought the couple luck. There was more to the party than just applying Henna, of course.

The family and friends of the bride and groom danced to and even sang songs. It’s customary for the bride and close family to wear yellow or green clothes, but I didn’t. I had my dress made in sea-green and gold. I had a shirt that was fell to my knees and a lehnga, a flowing skirt with different colored patches that made it look more beautiful.

On the day of Henna, I wore my dress like a princess and had my hair tied in a braid, with matching flowers to ornament it. I looked into the mirror, and couldn’t believe the girl who stared back at me. It wasn’t a girl, but a beautiful woman, with big eyes like mine and looking back at me with an identical grin on her face.

“Onaiza! Get the door please!” Mom’s voice brought me back to reality. I picked up my skirt with both hands and rushed upstairs, amidst all the guests who were roaming here and there. I quickly opened the already unlocked door, and there was the groom, gaping at me.

My soon-to-be brother-in-law looked ridiculous, and that made me laugh. I greeted him with a Salam and then moved aside to let him come inside. My mom was standing behind me, welcoming the guests. When my soon-to-be brother-in-law greeted my mom, he asked her, “Aunty, who is this?” he pointed towards me.

“It’s Onaiza.” Mom gave her cute, sweet smile.

“I didn’t recognize her,” he said, grinning at me.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” I said. I was rather close to my soon-to-be brother-in-law, and knew he was just teasing me. “It’s not your turn to tease me, big brother. It’s my turn to tease you today. Now, come!” I said, showing him into the drawing room.

The Henna function was supposed to take place at home. The ringing of the bell, footsteps, and doors opening and closing made an incessant racket. In spite of that, I heard Maheen, my second eldest sister, calling me.

“Onaiza!”

“Coming!” I said. Picking up my lehnga, I ran upstairs.

“Help Aliza with her clothes. I have work downstairs,” she said. I nodded and walked over to Aliza’s room, where she was getting ready.

I opened the door and entered. She stood in front of the dressing table, clad in a yellow frock, her hair tied in an identical braid to mine.

“Oh my God, Aliza! You look so beautiful!” I said.

“Shut up, Onaiza! I look so bad,” she said playfully. I walked over to where she was standing and looked back at her in the mirror.

“Liar!”

“Onaiza! Would you mind holding your sister still while I apply makeup on her face? She’s so jittery,” her friend Sana said.

“Now, sit still, Aliza,” I said, making her sit down.

Twenty minutes later, she was ready, so I left her with her friends. I had many other things to do which needed my attention. I went downstairs and told Maheen that Aliza was ready. Soon, they brought her to the room where the function was supposed to take place, and then the groom joined us downstairs.

It is traditional in weddings to prepare a huge thaal. It’s a huge plate with small bowls on it to store Henna, sweets, and oil, which are for the bride and groom. This thaal is brought to the front by the bride’s sisters. As I lighted the candles on the thaal, everyone was ready. After that, everyone took turns applying Henna to my sister’s hand, making elaborate designs with the hemp-based dye, and offering her sweets. After this was over, it was time for some songs and dances, then to take pictures with my cousins.

The night came to an end around one o’clock. Tired, I changed and came to my room. I fell asleep before I could think anything else.