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Assalamualaikum!!

Let's pray to die in our Sajdah, shall we?! Best possible way to die if you ask me, unless we're talking about dying as shaheed.

Also, I hope you're reading this after you're done with all your duties and prayers :)

So here's the next chapter in the life of Junaina Ali.

***

#8 The Family Council

For the rest of the school day all I could think of was that senior. Azza told me his name's Zaid Hashim and that he's my cousin's best bud. I then figured out that he's Sidra's brother, the one whom Samar was asking about in the morning. I couldn't get him out my system.

How could I? Nobody has ever ignored me like him. I was a bit miffed.

But also very very intrigued.

At the end of the school Samar actually came to get me from my class. I knew it was his protectiveness and nothing else, but it annoyed me. Especially since some of the girls in my class were checking him out brazenly. So much for their high morals.

"Are you okay? Heard that scum Azhar troubled you?" He asked as we walked down the corridor towards the stairs.

"I'm fine. You know I can handle myself. Plus, I took a leaf out of your book and used the family name," I said winking.

"Hey! That's my trademark! You don't get to copy my moves!" He exclaimed.

I giggled.

"Oh please! I have some standards," I remarked.

"Yeah right," Samar said and we both burst out laughing.

We did grab quite a lot of attention from the moment he came to my class and all the way to the bus. On the way, a lot of kids stopped to talk to Samar or just convey their salam to him. I admit, I was a little impressed. Especially with Samar's down to earth nature. He responded to everyone and didn't leave anyone without a smile. He even spoke to the girls who were throwing themselves at him nicely, although he had his gaze lowered.

That's a thing he did whenever he encountered girls, and when I thought of it, he never maintained propose eye contact with me too. It was puzzling. I thought of asking Ayesha di about it later.

Back in my school in Dubai, I was just as popular if not more. But I never interacted with my fellow students the way Samar did. It opened out a new perspective to popularity for me. I kind of felt a little bad on remembering how I used to dismiss the people who wanted my attention. I was haughty and proud and enjoyed being so.

But seeing Samar interact with his schoolmates showed me that I could be popular and nice while I'm at it. It's probably why everyone loved him here.

When we got to the bus I saw Zaid standing by the door along with some other boys who looked like seniors. On seeing Samar he waved him over. Yet again he did not even spare a glance on me. I wondered if I had something on my face that made me look repulsive. I took a quick look around and my fears were calmed when I saw guys checking me out. Including that git Azhar. He actually had the nerve to smirk at me. I rolled my eyes in response.

I turned back to look at Zaid. He still did not look at me once.

I didn't have time to be frustrated as I was called out by Sidra. She beckoned me to sit by her in the bus and I gladly did so. Better her as seat mate then Baseera (who I discovered was in the other division of X grade) or some of my other classmates. Their awkwardness in interacting with me was bothering me. I almost felt like I was being an intruder.

Sidra was very welcoming though.

"Juni Di, you don't mind me calling you Juni Di right?" She asked.

I smiled in response. She was so cute I felt like pinching her rosy cheeks. She had an adorable heart shaped face and a dimpled smile. Her simple nature added to her beauty.

"No, its okay, way better than Junaina Didi if you ask me," I responded.

Did I mention she spoke to me in English? I already loved her.

"How was your first day?" She asked with genuine interest.

"Oh don't even get me started on it!" I exclaimed.

She raised her brows in question and I launched into a rant. She listened patiently as I told her about the cold greeting from my fellow students and then their change of behavior on knowing I was Samar's cousin. I told her about my encounter with Azhar. She seemed impressed. I then told her about her brother shooing Azhar away. She smiled at that.

"That's my bhaiyya. Always patrolling corridors and getting the trouble makers caught. As if he doesn't play pranks," she remarked.

"Hey, he's doing a service to us girls if he's getting rid of problems like Azhar!"

"Thats he is," she said proudly.

The bus had begun moving, it was just as jam packed as it was in the morning. Just like before, Sidra took most of the load and did so cheerfully. I loved watching her interact with the kid in her lap. She has such an easy going nature that it was hard not to smile at her.

I almost asked her about why Zaid was immune to my presence, but then decided against it. One, I was worried about her judging me. Two, I kind of figured she was like Di, someone who stayed away from relationships and boys. And I was no where near to talk to di about my problems, how on earth was I going to open up to her? And also, I wouldn't like it if someone talked to me about Samir without even knowing him.

Thankfully the bus kept getting emptier as we got closer to our stop. Sidra kept up a constant conversation with me, telling me all about Marwa and its inhabitants. She talked fondly of certain teachers including Saira  ma'am. I found out that she was a ninth grader, had an elder sister named Iqra who happened to be Di's close friend. She also said she lived just five minutes away from me. We were practically neighbours if not for the huge estates our homes were part of.

She also had a lot of questions. About me, my life in Dubai, my family. She also asked me why I came back to India.

"I mean, it is quite obvious you loved your life there..." She trailed off, looking at me for answer.

I gulped, trying to form an honest answer without giving away much. I didn't feel like lying to her.

"I ... Uh, I got into some trouble. Got caught doing something that disappointed my parents. So they shipped me here," I finally managed to answer.

She stared at me thoughtfully, her light brown eyes reflecting the depth of her thoughts.

"Hmmm... Are you happy?" She finally asked.

I took a moment to answer. Was I happy?

"I did throw a tantrum before I came here. I didn't come without a fight. I'm still upset with my parents and I miss Samir and Safwan and my friends, but yeah, I guess I'm still happy. Surprisingly." I answered.

And that was the truth.

I still had not contacted Mom or Dad. They had tried calling me but I refused to answer. I was still mad at them. They even tried to get Dadi and the others to talk me into calling them. But Dadi supported me. And that's what made me happy. Despite knowing everything, nobody at Ashiana blamed me or punished me or made feel miserable. All of them tried to make feel as comfortable and welcome as possible. I felt loved and wanted here.

Something I was lacking before.

Soon enough it was time to get down at our stop. Samar and Zaid stood waiting for us while Baseera and the younger boy left in the opposite direction. Since I was already feeling low about the multiple letdowns from Zaid, I didn't bother looking at him. Once we reached Ashiana, I bid Sidra salam.

"Wa alaikumasalaam Juni Di! You should come over to my home sometime," she said.

"That would be great! You should also come over."

"Oh Di and I go over a lot, it is like our second home. We just haven't come over the last few days because we were busy." She said.

"That's great," I murmured wondering if Zaid came to my home as often too.

Samar and Zaid were walking behind us and deep in conversation. They both stopped once they reached us.

"You coming in bro?" Samar asked.

Yes, say yes, come on.

That was not me. I'm never desperate.

"No yaar. There's a meeting at the Masjid. You forgot about organizing the class schedules?"

I was not listening in keenly to notice how even and clear his voice sounded, neither too deep nor too pitchy, just perfect. Not at all. Eavesdropping is not my style.

"Ahh, yeah! We'll meet in half an hour then, in sha Allah."

"In sha Allah," Zaid murmured.

Okay, I admit it, I loved the way the Arabic words rolled off his tongue. It was beautiful.

Sidra bid me bye one last time and left with her brother.

"C'mon Juju, Ammi and the rest are definitely waiting to grill you about your first day." Samar said, pulling me out of my trance.

"And I have lots to tell."

And that's exactly what I did.

It was more of me complaining actually. Dadi, Chachi, Phuppi, Di and Shoaib bhaiyya were all seated around me in the living hall as I narrated the events of the day. Their expressions varied from suppressed laughter to indignation and anger as I spoke of Azhar.

"I told you Ammi,' Chachi said, ' that Zubaida's son is good for nothing and she does nothing to control him. It was Juni's good fortune that Zaid happened to be there."

"His brother was just as bad when we were classmates. He ultimately got kicked out for his misconduct," Shoaib bhaiyya remarked with a frown.

"I think we should go and complain Ammi, or at least let Shoaib speak to that no good boy," Phuppi suggested.

That escalated quickly.

"I think Juni held on her own fine Mami, why create a scene just as school has begun? Already some other families are calling us meddlesome for intervening in every problem." Di said.

A voice of reason, finally.

"Exactly. Ayesha is right. And if Juni has problems she has Samar and his friend to look out for her, though my beti is perfectly capable."

If I wasn't mistaken Dadi was actually smirking as she spoke the last few words. Talk about having cool parents, I had a cooler grandma.

"She's our little sherni!" Shoaib bhaiyya commented earning a smack from his mom.

"Beta better get used to speaking in Urdu. Kids here don't speak English like your friends back in Dubai. We can't do anything about it," Chachi said smiling.

"And you might as well get rid of the accent while you're at it!" Shoaib bhaiyya remarked laughing.

Everyone joined him in the fun. I was not liking it at all and I whined like the best that I was, turning to the one person who would take my side no matter what.

"Dadi! Bhaiyya is being mean, it is not like I purposely make my Urdu sound like English!"

"Beta, he's just jealous," Dadi said seriously.

And we all burst out into laughter.

"Hey! That's not fair Dadi! I thought you never played favorites."

The one laughing loudest was his own mum, my Chachi. Bhaiyya was her only son. She doted on him and yet she poked fun on him more than anybody else. I was jealous of their relationship. Actually, I was jealous of all my cousins in that one respect. They all had great relationships with their parents. Sure they had little fights and they also got into trouble, yet at the end of the day they expressed their love.

I did have that kind of camaraderie with my Dad. I missed him. Yet I couldn't overlook the fact that he sent me away from him. No matter what the reason, I didn't expect it from him. And it hurt like a bitch.

There was no time to dwell on bitter thoughts though. With the happy familial atmosphere around me it was hard to stay sad.

"Sorry bhaiyya, but I'm special," I said smiling wide.

"No you're just imported," he  stated.

He was simply pulling my leg, but I put on a hurt face just to get him in trouble with the elders. Di was struggling to hold her laughter and not choke at the same time as she knew I was kidding around.

"Shoaib. You're being a brat. Live up to your twenty four years boy!" Chachi said.

We were all kidding around. Things went from serious to comical so fast in the family council. It made the atmosphere around warm and refreshing. So much for hating India and loving Dubai, I found life here just as fun.

"Ammi, decide right now, my mom or her Chachi first?" He asked very seriously.

Dadi pinched his ears nicely.

"Badmaash! I don't know how I'm going to find a girl for you who'll take you seriously," she said. Although she sounded stern, the amused twinkle in her eyes indicated otherwise.

"Oh no Dadi! Not the marriage talks again, I'm sorry. I'll lay of Juni sherni now." He said, he was smiling while at it with his palms folded in front of Dadi.

Dadi let him go and patted him affectionately.

"I'll go and get tea for everyone," Phuppi said.

"I'll help you Ammi."

Di left with Phuppi for the kitchen.

"Dadi, your pinches hurt more than Abba's punches," Shoaib bhaiyya said rubbing his now red ear.

He had a mischevious grin on his face. Shoaib bhaiyya was not obviously attractive. His one stunning feature was the pair of hazel eyes he had hidden beneath his thick arched brow. Stubble dotted his face as did a couple of marks here and there. He had a couple of stitches over his right eye brow which he had gotten when he was small. He was quite the naughty child from the stories that Chachi told me.

He was quite tall, towering over the rest of us. His height often made him stand out among crowds. His smiles always had a hint of crookedness in them, as it did right now, indicating his mischief. But he also had an aggressive side to his persona, at whose receiving end I've never been fortunately.

"I'm his mother beta," was all Dadi said.

I chuckled.

"Stop chuckling. You're responsible for this pain, if I could I would have pinched you twice as hard," he remarked.

Aren't we all brats, be our age sixteen or twenty four.

I pulled my tongue out at him. He glared at me.

Soon enough Phuppi and Di brought tea and snacks and the family council broke up. It was fun while it lasted. And we could have it every day.

...

So, how was it?

Stay tuned for more.

Love,

Ann.