"Hey, are you okay, Minha?" someone grabbed her shoulder and jerked her away from the sink, shutting the tap. It was Eve. In her small charcoal hair and eyes she could see the concern and care. She pursed her lips, wiping her tears from her sleeve. Eve was looking at her in the eye. The most popular girl, who wasn't mean or arrogant but cute and beautiful inside, out. Her glittery shoulder cut dress bounced back the light blinding Minha's eyes.
"Come on, Minha." She said, looking eager to know what was eating Minha so bitterly. Minha couldn't speak. She couldn't tell her what had happened. She couldn't involve a third in their fight. She knew Kay would be okay. She knew she would convince Kay. Even so, Minha was an introvert in the school. She couldn't speak openly to everyone. Without saying anything she walked out of the restroom rewinding the chat with Kay.
Meanwhile, a flashback knocked at the doors of her paralyzed brain.
A girl with tall blonde ponytail, wearing a sea green shirt and black jeans walked with her sketchpad and water paints against her chest in the long hallway of Aims High school to her locker. She took out the key from the side pocket of her bag and inserted them in the lock. Opening the locker, she started taking out her PE shoes and clothes when her eyes caught an XOXO written on the mirror on the wall of her locker with a pink lipstick.
At first sight, she was unable to understand who it could be. She took a tissue out of her stuff and wiped the lipstick.
"Hey, it's totally uncool to wipe that off. But I can rewrite it anyway." Voice wasn't similar. She turned around and gauged at a brown girl in a lots of pigtails wearing a pink T shirt underneath a silver jacket. She was not smiling and definitely looked upset. Minha ignored her and started locking the locker again.
"Minha Qureshi, right?" the girl in pigtails said when she started walking. She stopped and felt something important in her just-beginning conversation. She nodded, looking at her,
"I love you artwork. Can I borrow your sketchpad? Your art is kind of relaxing to my unkind mind." She said, her hands folded on her chest.
"What's your business? Why are you so annoying?" Minha asked her straightforwardly. Kay raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes as if meant to scare Minha. She was an introvert, not a scary cow.
"Your art is chosen for the exhibition. Also, you need an extrovert date to settle that introvert ass of yours." She said and walked away. Minha was so surprised that she could even pay attention to the fact that someone just insulted her. She ran into the office and was thanking her art teacher for the selection.
When she bumped into a guy, she realized her present. It was Orion. The basketball champion.
"Hey, watch it!" she apologized and then slowed her pace.
She walked over to a bench when she realized that Eve was following her.
"Look, I know I shouldn't have said that to Karina, she isn't answering my phone calls۔. I know I shouldn't have said it, but please, don't ignore me like that." She was saying. Her face looked trenched with sweat as if she would have been running all the way to Minha. "What are you talking about?" Minha asked her. What was going on? Was there something between Eve and Kay?
Evelyn sighed and seated beside her. "I asked Kay if you would want to be with us in our group and she said that you wouldn't be comfortable. She said that you like us, but you can't afford to stay with us. And then I yelled at her that she is miserable and letting her friend down. I yelled at her yesterday about you not being with her even though she was emotionally broken. I told her that you have your own problems and she should ask you without making a decision herself, but she got angry and she isn't responding to any of my calls or text." The short haired girl, Minha once liked, now looked a devil queen to her. She grabbed her white leather bag and walked away from her.
It felt like there were so many tears inside her that wanted to go up to surface but they couldn't. It felt like there was a hard core rope carrying her from every beautiful part of her life to the burning hell. The rhythm of her life was lost somewhere. Her own best friend was trying to protect her from the evil popular group in the school and she needed Minha but Minha was so crowded by her own problems that she forgot. And then she lost.
Her own sister who cared for her. For after a long time, Minha felt outraged and helpless at the same time and wanted her sister to be there, but she was a criminal in Minha's nightmares. But who knows if she was interpreting her dreams incorrectly?
Her parents, she needed them. But they were always there around without actually being there except for today.
Her fingers felt pain constantly playing the piano and she gave up. She couldn't hear others telling her to perform, she couldn't her teacher asking her what was wrong with her.
Her bag on her right shoulder, Minha walked out from her school quadrangles and started walking on the road. Kay's texts knocking the back of her mind constantly. She was worried, overwhelmed but on the top of all she was scared. Sacred of loneliness. When she was deciding to live away from her sister, she thought it would be easy to earn by our own and eat by our own, but one should know that money and food are not the only factors of life. Everyone needs love, and comprehension.
"ZOOOM!" a motorbike bumped into her. Or a human did when she was pushed back against the street bank. Her head bounced so hard that it started throbbing as if it was waiting for bumping into something to tell her how badly she was torturing her brain cells. When the vision cleared, she saw Rohail besides her yelling something to her. His brown eyes made her lost every time and this was overpowering moment.
"Minha!" he yelled awaking her. Holding back a lot of junk, she brought her arms together and laced them around his neck, tighter. And she hugged him, her tears silently escaping out. He hugged her back, "its okay, Min. It's okay. I am here." He rubbed her back soothing her. They got up and he walked her to his car. She rested her head against the seat closing her eyes not to remember anything. "The art institute. Take me there, Rohail."
"Are you sure? You need to rest." He said accelerating the car slowly. She brought her left arm up to her hair and rubbed the back of her hair. On returning, her palm was red. Rohail's eyes oozed out. He took out the tissues from the dashboard and started putting them over her bloody neck. "Is it hurting?" he asked her wiping the blood. She nodded.
Stopping near the hospital, he took her to the doctor and she treated her with the antiseptics and bandages.
"She's okay. There was a piece of glass in there. We got it out." The doctor said.
Rohail supported her and she walked out with him. Looking at him, she realized something familiar. The same old Rohail who used to tease her. Catching her mistaken phrases and using them on her when she was angry to tease her. The same old Rohail who would help her in studying. Providing notes, discussing the physics word problems together when they were in grade 8 and 9. The same old Rohail who would talk to her on Instagram on her pc when he had her phone with her. The same old Rohail who would accompany her when their families were busy. The same old Rohail who would make her smile on texts, one who could buy gifts for her birthdays and hand them to Zimal, never admitting that those were from him. The same old Rohail who would always compete her and let her win in the end. The same old Rohail she fell for.
She looked away. She needed to move on. She was just a sister to him.
"So, what's going on?" he asked. She wondered if she should open the doors again.
"Kay is upset because of me." She said. Not detailing it.
"You can always make up to her." He said.
"Yeah, but the fact she is upset because I didn't see her being a friend is making me more guilty." Her palm under her cheek, she stared at her own reflection in the back view mirror and frowned.
"And do you still want to go to the institute? Like, just let it go for today…" he hesitated interrupting her decisions.
"The teacher texted me to be there. Said it is important." She said, scratching her nails. Then a thought came to her and she looked up at him, "How are YOU here? Didn't obviously came to help me out in a motorbike accident." She said, sarcastic. He laughed. "I was here to, uh…" he looked like he wanted to say something but then change his mind, "to grab my stuff from her form last time. I was staying here last time when we met, remember?" he turned the point to somewhere else without her knowing it.
Who knows what he was holding back? Who knows what news he had in his walls from Pakistan? Who knows if it was threatening? She looked so displeased and disturbed, he couldn't tell her.
"Oh yeah. I remember." She said, feeling ashamed of their last Munich's meeting in front of the bakery. Their last meeting were always a disaster. Turning up to another corner, the gigantic institute peeked above form the trees and the fences. Royal and silent, observing two broken hearts pacing out.
She thanked for the drive and squeezed out of the car. Walking inside she was nervous, biting her lower lips. She could feel something wrong. Miss Jeans smiled which faded before even it could reach its extremes and Dr. Harris stood there with his arms folded on his back. She looked at him for a hint but he frowned.
Hustling, she sauntered towards the two people. "What's goin on?" she asked with an energetic voice as if wanting to cheer the environment. Miss Jeans looked at Harris and sighed. She brought her arm over Minha's shoulder. "They sad that this nominee has selected an art with passion, fire and emotions but it doesn't reveal the message. Honey," she paused, wavering, "they said they couldn't put it in the auction. Dr. Harris couldn't contribute because he lost his every chance and your art is not going to be there." She said, looking into her eyes with her honey eyes. Her look was calming but her words shattered the glass building Rohail built.
She gulped down and decided not to act as if it mattered it to her. She could earn money from somewhere else to go to Pakistan. She promised herself not to fall for this rejection. It was just a dream. Just a coincidence. She knew her art couldn't be selected. "Oh, I see. Well, I am sorry, Doctor Harris for making you lose it. I really am." She said, smiling. Harris looked at her with pitiful eyes but then nodded and moved out. She called out for him but he raised his hand to let her know he didn't need her right now.
"It'll be okay. What was your message, by the way?" Miss Jeans asked her, putting all the canvases at one corner. She thought about it. The dreading nightmare woke up again.
"Why does it matter, anyway?" she asked, standing at the same place, staring at some empty place. Miss Jeans who was busy cleaning up the stuff, stopped and looked at her, "Tell me. There was obviously something in your mind that made you lost in it for two hours without looking elsewhere. Don't hide it. Your shattered heart is already crying." The teacher who was continuously delivering her words surprised Minha. "How can you say that?" she said now glaring at the teacher with honey eyes and calm smile. "I am a painter. I can read portraits. Now, come on, tell me." Her face beamed into a reassuring smile again and she started working.
However, she was standing there looking at her teacher stay composed.
"There's always a moment in your life when you feel helpless and tied up." She was saying. "A moment when there is silence before a storm. A moment when you can't even trust yourself. A moment when all you can do is stay at your place and let things happen. An instant when the Earth is shaken and laid upside done. You don't know what's right and what is wrong. You don't know who is an enemy and who is friend. And at that moment, it's like you are lost in a puzzle to which the answers you don't know. An island to which there isn't an access to the boat. A wild Jungle to which there is no route out. No stars. Just a dark sky which inhales you and…" her voice broke but she wasn't crying. Miss Jeans was looking at her. Her tears ripping down her skin. "And you can't even tell if the death is there beside you." She delivered the last words picking up her bag. Tears peeked from the corner of the eye but she smiled. "But at those times, you make alliances with death and it squeezes you back on earth." Her right fist clasped into her left palm ad if it was a baseball. She shook her head and left.
Munich's trees were hidden under the blanket of January snow and still they were observing the silent Minha Qureshi walking beneath them. Holding her leather bag from her left arm and holding her phone in the right hand, her face laced with a dim grin. She was staring at the picture of her art. A lot of bubbles exploded around her and tried to distract her. The voice of people chatting, kids yelling and laughing. People's feet walking on the snow covered road and leaves of the trees wavering with the wind. But she was focused on the last message of her brother:
"Min, Yumna really liked your company. She said you were so great with comforting her. And damn, she said you looked so tranquil and kind that she was forced to put her spoiled heart to silence. Thank you so much for visiting her! She is finally going to think that her son isn't friends with 'Maaz the spoiled'. Two butterscotches for you!"
She took a deep breath. The grin disappeared and was replaced by the louder grimace.
She shook her head and jerked away the negative emotions. The pale pink house lighted up in white snow squinted its eyes at her and the winter jasmines bloomed. She smiled and tried to stay relaxed.
The black walls were quiet supporting he little Zoe who was filling colors in her drawing.
"Hey!" Minha squeaked with delight. Zoe looked up at her and exclaimed a smile and then went busy in her work again. Another tough day with the child.
"What are you coloring?" she put her leather bag aside and sat beside her against the wall.
"I am not in the mood right now, sad face." She ignored her, rudely again.
"Why are you so rude to me?" Minha asked her, taking away Zoe's book.
"Because you are white. And besides the color, you are sent here to pity me thinking I am a spoiled child. Daddy loves to do that. Thinks he is taking care of me. I am not going to give up to that." She said, snatching her book again. Minha stared at the girl. She missed her dad. She wanted attention. She wanted to be take care of. And she knew it so damn well.
"For the color thing, it's not your fault or my enormity that I am white and you are black. It's natural. And for the daddy thing, I can be your daddy and your mommy. I am not send here by him. I came by myself. He doesn't know I am here." She said with a spot face.
Zoe's hand stopped working for an instant and she looked up at her as if trying to decide whether she should believe her or not.
"If it's natural, then why do they differentiate?" for a second, Zoe wasn't mean anymore. She was an 8 year old who was heart-broken and needed answer to a lot of questions which have been building up in the absence of love.
"Because you let them. If you don't care about what they say, if you start ignoring them, it won't affect you. It affects you because you believe them. You need to love yourself. Tell yourself that you are important. You have to respect yourself to let others do the same." She explained like she would have explained to Maaz when he was upset.
"How can I love myself? How can I ignore 3/4th of the world's population pointing at me and accusing of me my appearance?" the child inside Zoe said.
"3/4th of the world isn't white. And even If it is, you are rare. You are unique. Make this color your beauty. Make this color your fame. Look at Tiwa savage! The African artist. Nicki Minaj, who is said to be Indian. SZA, she isn't white like Koreans or those Americans in Netflix TV shows! They aren't guilty because of that! They made it their beauty. Why are you so under the shell of white people, baby?" Minha was energetic once again, explaining the artist theory to Zoe. "What about the society? What am I supposed to do about my dad? He hides me here because I am black!" she yelled and tears exploded out of her eyes. Minha who was glistened with enthusiasm, backed out with surprise.
She drew the little Zoe closer and pulled her in a hug. "Awe, its okay, sweetie. Don't cry. I am going to be your daddy and mommy. You don't have to be worry about it. I am not ashamed about you, Zoe. You are a brave girl. Daddy must have his own problems." She said, patting her head.
"I think I like you, sad face." Zoe lifted her head up embraced with tears which curled down to her lips twirled up. Minha squinted her eyes at her. "I am not sure I like this name." she said, making a face. Zoe rolled her eyes. "But I like the name sad face for you, sad face." She blinked her eyelashes at her acting like an innocent stupid kid. Minha snorted. "You are going to give me tough time with the name." she said, pouting.
Zoe laughed and picked up her book. "This is my sister." She showed the coloring to her.
Minha was shocked. She didn't knew Zoe had a sister. Zimal's chuckled echoed in her eyes and Zoe could see the changing of Minha's facial expressions.
"I knew there was something. What is going on in your head? I told you a lot about me. Tell me about yourself." She crossed her legs and rested her chin above her palms as if waiting to hear a story. Minha decided to trust her. She had to gain Zoe's trust.
"My name is Minha Qureshi and I am 15 years old. I study at Aims high school and I am interested in art of all sorts. Architecture, interior designing, painting, writing, singing, everything." She said.
"I am not a principle of a school interviewing for an admission. I am Zoe, I need the same exact return in what I have provided you." Zoe said with spot face. Minha bit her lower lip.
"Fine. I don't have a family and the only sister I had doesn't understand me. I feel kind of ditched, because her best friend was my best friend, and now I want her. But not the way she is now. I want that 12 year old elder sister who could advise me and hug me when I need it." She looked at the kid and then continued, "And that's why I felt the pain when I searched up jobs. I saw you and just thought I should help someone. I feel the same, so white or black. Heart remains red." Zoe was impressed.
"Let's celebrate my birthday. I am going to tell you how to arrange stuff for a proper birthday party and you are going to obey my orders. Oh and," she wondered what to say next, "Chef is not going to be here today. Do you know how to make that cake again?"
Zoe asked vigilantly and Minha nodded. She was enthralled by the kid's technicality