After Haseeb sat, the professor referred to me as "the girl in the back." I got out of my chair and stood up.
"Yes, sir," I answered. "What's your name?" he inquired softly. "Nawal Bhutta... Sir," I replied politely.
"Miss Bhutto?" the professor inquired, his face contrite.
"Actually, it's Bhutta. Bhutto belongs to a different caste, probably the most well-known for being renowned leaders in our country. Therefore, you and many others here refer to me as "Bhutto," but it is "Bhutta," another caste," I explained. I'm sure the class appreciated my poise and assurance.
"Our country!" "So it is clear that you are also from Pakistan?" the professor asked, smiling.
"Yes, sir!" I responded respectfully.
"Miss, I'm glad you're here. I hope you make the most of your time here and bring your A-game," said the professor.
"Thank you very much, sir," I said as I sat down. Dr. Fraser Dunkinson concluded by addressing the entire class with his motivational words and briefly introducing everyone else.
"See you next time," he said as he exited the class.
I wrote in my journal that day;
We all know that not all of those "next times" have the following times, but we never value the next times until they are no longer available.
Looking up to the dark, gloomy sky, she cried
Her cheeks wetted, and her eyes closed
for her longing
She longed for the moon in the vast sky
everyone thought
She yearns for the beauty of the spotted moon
in the dark
They told the self-made tales of her love
for the moon.
Neither could the moon come down to Earth
Nor could she reach high above the sky
to catch the moon
Her strength was nothing but her mad, mad love
for the moon
She kept embracing solitude as she knew
it would never leave her
Her passion for solitude was perfectly remarkable
they praised
She had all the qualities of the wolf,
they didn't speak amiss
But it was not the moon she longed for in the dark,
alone nights
It was the moon's light that was desirable
in the darkness
her reliance died the night when the moon
didn't show up
But, the absolute agony was she didn't die,
her strength did.
She the wolf // Akasious