Saliha's Point of view:
There is a box in the last drawer of dad's bookshelf which was not a place our hands were supposed to be. As for me—I don't even open the drawer.
However, there exist a time in my life that I wanted to know what was inside the box. It probably contains my parent's picture which I intensely wished to set eyes on—however, mom said there was no need, and that keeping the picture of the 'gone people' was not a good idea. It was not a rule that everyone held but her own idiosyncrasy.
But why did dad even agree to her peculiar ways. If she believed that—he didn't have to. Neither did I.
They wouldn't let me even keep it with me—to atleast hide it in a box myself or in my pocket and such. I didn't ask to stamp it on the wall. I just wanted to glance at it during hard times.
It came to such an extent that I've forgotten how my biological parents looked like. Mother had a melodious voice—that I was aware of. And papa played the guitar. They would sing me lovely songs now and then—which I've dearly missed. Now they were no more.
"Don't forget about Jaya's party on Saturday," Zara the princess of the witches stated to me before getting hold of her Gucci handbag.
My response was nothing. Instead, my eyes were glued to a page of 'the antique library of Kakhluba '
"I'm referring to you, Sallu," she mumbled, still having a smirk on her pale face.
"And I chose not to answer," I glared, turning my face away from her side.
I heard her laugh out of mockery and my heart sank. I was disappointed in myself. Why was I finding it hard to get along with even a match-made date.
Zara was going to a friend's for a sleepover while I lay miserably on the bed, in the covers; reading a novel. Moreover, I hoped dad wouldn't forget about the job offer. If not I would be more miserable than miserable.
At around the early hours of 8pm, Zara had already left and I was alone with the little ones in the livingroom. Ma'Hanan had left Turkey to live with her children—we don't know when she's coming back. I hope she's not coming back throughout this year—I mean Christmas break is not that long from now so I'm hoping she won't choose to spend it with us.
"I have an urgent funeral to attend," ma'Amina announced to the maids and was out in less than 6 minutes. I took this as an opportunity to have a night walk—to assemble my thoughts and clear off all the bad instincts I was feeling throughout the day.
I informed the maids about my departure and they insisted the maid's daughter to go along with me. So there I was with a girl in her early 10s strolling around the colourful neighbourhood.
I haven't mentioned about my friend Tahseen. Tahseen is the best friend of mine whom I cherish well. She cherishes me more because I'm a weirdo that doesn't know how to take care of people around me better than I should. I called Tahseen and we talked about the program she enrolled to last year. It was a fashion—something course that would take her 3 years. The school was popular and they got to be taught by good-taste fashionistas around the world.
Tahseen instead told me something I didn't even think of. That Zara might have left home to talk with Aabid—her new fiancé. I thought that was a wreckless thing to do—I mean Zara wouldn't be that crazy... I think...And I found it weird for Aabid would never call her around that time period—like the relationship is too early for late night meetups even if it were to happen. Additionally, he looked too prideful—such that one would never believe he sometimes sets away his ego and invites people over.
"You're pretty, as always," I heard the little girl mumble as we walked away home.
"Why do you say so?" I asked.
"Because I saw how nervous you were before the meeting with your husband. It seemed you didn't know how pretty you looked,"
I paused, embarrassed and surpised at the same time to hear such words from a child. Like woah! Correction—date, not husband...
"Um... haha. Was I that nervous?"
"Yes—well, you kept looking at yourself in the mirror, and you hardly smiled...I just wanna say that you're beautiful,"
"Well, thank-you Aisha."
Locking the door behind, I rushed to my bed upstairs and facetimed Tahseen. That was when I heard a commotion downstairs. It began shortly when the gate locked—which meant mom was the cause.
I ignored the loud noises as they tried hard to make themselves significant. Walking down the stairs, I peeked even before reaching there. Although from the sounds, it was mom and the maids.
Mom was sitting on the floor carpet and the maids calming her down.
What in the town was happening?
"Calm down, madam, please calm down," Aisha's mother patted her back.
"Mom, are you okay?" I exclaimed with a sweaty forehead. The kids were asleep if not—the place would have been more tense with the kids panicking too.
"I—I'm good, I'm good. I'm just not i-in the mood to talk," she managed to say, exhaling a sigh.
I was confused, couldn't think of what exactly made her behave that way. I wondered if someone died again.
Wait was dad in trouble?
"Mom tell me, what's wrong? Please..." she wouldn't. I was just desperate for her to so I could help in whatever way I could. But she wouldn't tell—I knew that.
"Go to sleep, Sallu. It is well," mom told me, got up, wrapped her huge veil on her body, and disappeared.
Around an hour later, I sneaked out to see if I could hear her explaining what happened to someone.
"She's a monster! Rude and terrible!" I heard her exclaim into her phone. The door wasn't closed completely, so I could hear what was going on. Moreover, the call was on speaker mode.
(She's crazy, Amina!) ma'Hanan said.
"She addressed me... told me, 'you and your husband will soon come down'. Can you imagine the guts she has? Doesn't she know that Jaya's Abba has strong connections globally?" mom paused, rubbing balm on her lips. I was observing her through the slight opening. She continued, "We will not go bankrupt,"
(God-willing, never!)
My heart sank. Why was 'bankrupt' even a word in this conversation!
"Jochron Inc will be a good support. I am very sure of this,"
(But do you think Jaya's Abba will involve them in this? You know his thoughts, and ego,)
"He has to, if not he's crazy. Because these people are determined to bring him down,"
She took the phone from the dresser, and I assumed she was about to walk out of the living-room. I quietly walked away from the area and towards my room.
I pondered, who exactly was mom referring to? Who were they, and why were they trying to hunt my dad's business. Additionally, what is Jochron Inc, that I knew not.
I hopped unto my reading table and surfed the net for 'Jochron Inc'.
It said it was a co-operative company that started in Beijing. Highest operating power belonged to 'Qiu & Sons LTD'.
I paused, eyes closed. I heard of this name before. I tried my best to recall where but I couldn't so I simply let my brain to relax—although that only lasted for a short while.
The fact that dad was in trouble or was going to be in trouble greatly disturbed me. He was too kind for all these.
I received an email. It was from dad so I quickly attended to it. It was a link to an application form. I was to fill, print and submit to the recruitment team early the next morning.
So I guess that's where my real life journey begins. I was soon to be a part of my dad's international organization which I wouldn't dare to mess up, God willing.