"Having somewhere to go is home, having someone to love is family. And having both of them is a blessing."
-Anonymous
(Sometimes we're so blindsided by everything that's going on in life that we fail to appreciate what we actually DO have.)
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Gauhar's POV
It took all my efforts to remind myself that this man didn't mean any harm, and that I had vowed to be polite to him no matter how much his condescending behaviour irked me, "I don't know how to thank you sir. I'm sure your presence here means a lot to our father." I forced a tight little smile on my face, to maintain the façade that I was the perfect well behaved girl that I was trying so hard to be.
I noticed the discreet glare Muqeet was passing my way. But I chose to ignore him. I was going to give this man a price of my mind, and I'll make sure he swallows it no matter how bitter he might find it….with a smile on his face. I'll make sure of that.
"But I'm quite sure you understand that no matter how much our family means to us, we cannot magically fly over to them when the need arises. I'm quite sure Uncle Alyan would have liked it very much to stay here with baba, but he isn't in this city in fact he is in Birmingham at the moment. And I assume even you would agree that it is not an easy feat to cover over two hundred kilometers in half a day."
He smiled warmly at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The lines around his eyes indicated that he smiled quite a lot, what puzzled me was how would a man as dry as him find a reason to smile that often. I imagined him to be a dictator, in his black stiff suit and cold stare...if what I was was anything to go by I knew I was right.
Though what I was seeing was quite different, taking into account his casual clothes and not so cold gaze. But these were exceptional circumstances and hence didn't count.
He surprisingly didn't look offended by my words as I expected him to be "Don't worry dear, I'm just thankful that at least I could be here at a time like this. He is my friend, I couldn't let him go away in front of me like that."
Dammit I had to up my game a little bit, this was absolutely not how I wanted this to play out. And although I could see that reason was shaking her head in disapproval, the 'not so good' girl within me was showing her tongue to reason, not concerned in the least about anything except getting the satisfaction of seeing this self absorbed man flustered.
I leaned back into the sofa and gave him the widest most sugary smile that I could muster "That is very admirable of you Uncle Quadri, I appreciate the gesture very much." The smile that formed on his face because of my words gave me a sick satisfaction, knowing what I was going to do next.
"But it has been my experience that when you burden someone with your expectations and desires, that person inevitably starts hating you….and generally avoids your presence. And maybe might even start to ignore the things you tell them." The sound of Muqeet's cough was music to my ears, Mr. Quadri was watching me with narrowed eyes. The dim light made it impossible to make sure he was flustered, but the way he was clenching at the fabric of his pants...it made me sure that he completely understood what I was saying.
I leaned forward and grinned at him, "That's why we didn't do that to uncle. He's family after all, if we don't understand his circumstances, who will."
The glare that Muqeet was throwing my way made me thankful that he didn't have the ability of killing someone just by looking at them. I had to make sure that for the remainder of the week I didn't stay around him without company...or I might not live to see the light of the next day.
The silence that ensued was awkward, not for me but for the other two men in the room. For me, my petty side had efficiently knocked out reason and was dancing in joy. Muqeet continued to faithfully send death glares my way, meanwhile Mr Quadri was staring at spot on the plain white sheets.
I wondered what he found interesting in the white piece of cloth, maybe he found something there that I couldn't see.
"Did you know that your father's business has had a huge loss?" Mr. Quadri asked looking up from his contemplation of incredibly white bedsheets, immediately catching Muqeet's attention and mine as well. If this was an attempt to diffuse the awkwardness in the room it was doing an amazing job, if the expression of relief on Muqeet Siddique's face was anything to go by.
"How did you come to know about this Uncle Quadri?" I felt a frown on my face, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. How was it that everyone except us knew about what was happening in the business?
"Abdullah spoke to me about it just a few weeks ago. I could sense how worried he was about it although he didn't openly tell me how he felt." He raked a hand through his hair, a wry smile forming on his lips "That idiot always hides how he feels, keeps everything in no matter how much it hurts him."
The knowledge that father was comfortable with sharing his problems with this man and not us was extremely disconcerting. Didn't he see? He was harming himself in his pursuit of protecting us from being harmed. Why didn't he trust us enough to share his worries with us? That's what family was for right?
And here I was getting to know about stuff from Dev and Mr. Quadri.
Why didn't I know about this, when uncle Quadri here was clearly aware of this. Father never mentioned his worries, he bottled them up inside him, never letting them get to us, protecting us. He was worried this entire time and he didn't let us get an inkling of what was happening.
Hell he didn't even share his anxiety with the person he considered his best friend. Uncle Quadri of course understood how he felt without him expressing it. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help admire the bond they shared. This man managed to pick up on something that even Muqeet and I being his children couldn't understand soon enough.
I hated this situation and I hated myself. I hated feeling useless and not being able to do anything about it. This time I would make sure that I could change this. I was going to make sure that the company was back on track and I didn't care if father liked it or not.
"That was why I travelled all the way over here from India, I had to make sure that I did everything in my power to help Abdullah." He looked up at the ceiling, running a hand through his dark hair that was streaked with wisps of silver "There's only so much a man can take before he breaks."
His words were true and they made me feel slightly warmer towards him. This man seemed to genuinely care about father. But I could not forget what he had done before, and I could definitely not forgive him for it. His face was lined with worry as he watched father breathing deeply through the mask on his face.
I hated the hypocrisy and biasedness of this man. How could someone who showed so much compassion to his friend turn so cold and unfeeling towards-
I shook my head to clear the thoughts crowding my brain, taking my head in my hands I took a deep breath. I could feel my heart beating rapidly within my chest, it was then that I realised that I couldn't trust myself to stay longer in this room with him.
I stood up abruptly, immediately caching the attention of the two men in the room. I needed to walk to clear my mind, I could feel the first signs of a brain numbing headache. Damn, staying up all night was not going well with me, especially under the stress and strain of this goddamn hospital. I felt the urge to run my hand through my hair, but the hijab on my head prevented it. I growled in frustration. I had to cool down somehow so I walked into the restroom to wash my face.
I was shocked to look at the person staring back at me from the mirror. I barely recognized the dead looking black eyes and the pale cheeks that were reflected back at me. I watched myself in the mirror as I puffed out my cheeks, letting out all the tension within me with the breath of air. I splashed some cool water on my face, looking up in the mirror at my dripping face a slapped my cheeks to bring more colour into them.
Although I acknowledged looking like a zombie, I didn't want the sleep deprived doctors and nurses around me to be spooked because of my presence. Especially in a place where there is a high chance that they mistake me for a person who's lost her way from the morgue.
I cringed as I looked at the conditioned of my clothes, it looked as if I had not taken a bath in ages. It was highly possible that I smelt awful too, but thankfully Muqeet didn't complain about that when we hugged.
Not that his words would affect me that much.
I looked at myself in the mirror and straightened the sleeves of my overlarge jumper, cringing as I noticed how clear the stains on it were from working at the cafe. I tightened the hijab around my head, making sure that my sneaky hair didn't peek out of it, like the had the habit to.
I dusted my clothes, standing up straighter and widening my shoulders. Dirty clothes were the least of my concerns right now I didn't care in the least how I looked. I wiped my wet hands on my jeans taking a deep and making sure my head was held high as I walking out.
Although I felt far from confident I could at least fool others that it was exactly how I was feeling at the moment, and maybe I could fool myself in the process as well.