Asghar Abbas's Blog - Posts Tagged "no-dragons"
The Call. A Skein from the Third Act.
“By the way, how is the Russian girl that likes you?”
“She has a name, you know.”
“Of course. I wasn’t being derogatory. I just forgot her name and remembered only her ethnicity, that’s all. Her name is Ikea, right?”
“How can you come up with a random name like that? It’s Mila.”
“Oh OK, cool. Does she likes you or vice versa?”
“Both.”
“Cool, I do like Russian people. I know they are not the clichéd stereotypes like the movies make them out to be. Just as we are not the stereotypes they make us to be.”
He laughed at that. There was a sudden but comfortable lull in the conversation. I knew what was coming next, but I still cringed when he asked the next predictable question. The one he asks every time we talk, which was about once a week. “Did you call them yet?”
I shook my head then realized he cannot see me. I spoke up, my voice harsh, my throat dry. “No. Not yet.”
“Not yet? What are you waiting for, man?”
“I don’t know.”
“So I take it that you haven’t stopped by the house then? Like I asked you to do a million times?” His voice, which has always been one constant voice of reason in my life, heavy with disappointment. I started to shake my head then stopped. “No,” I said hoarsely.
“Wow.”
“They don’t want me there.”
“It’s your home, dude. It’s our home. Of course, they want you there. They need there. You should go back. It’s time to get past- you know what. ”
I didn’t say anything.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
I laughed sullenly. Because I am still naïve enough to believe in myself. It would be much later in life; I found that nothing is more fitting a punishment than hope.
“So you are still not in touch with anyone from home? No one?”
“Except you.”
“Yeah, except me.”
“It goes both ways, you know,” I said weakly.
“They haven’t contacted me either.”
“That’s so lame, bro and you know it. Stop trying to pin the blame on each other, OK?”
My throat constricted. “They blamed me what happened to Zen.”
“Come on, you know that’s not true.”
“He blamed me.” My voice was an inaudible whisper.
His voice was just as delicate. “Do you really believe that?”
I ignored the bait. “Look-if they wanna get in touch with me, fine but I ain’t gonna make the first move. They basically kicked me out.”
“But you are the one who left, not them.”
“They could have stopped me.”
“You wouldn’t have let them.”
“What do you want me to do, hum?’
“Listen, I can only show you the way. You are the one who has to walk by it yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot Morpheus.”
He didn’t laugh. “It’s been a year. Don’t you think it’s time you stop running?”
“I am not running from anything.” I tried to reign in my anger and keep it away from my tone but it was hard. I cannot afford to piss off my only solace these ashen days.
“Don’t you miss them?” He asked tenderly.
With my every passing breath. I bleed for them every fucking forlorn day, especially her.
“No,” I said. “People only miss each other in fiction. Doesn’t happen in real life.”
I heard him sigh in exasperation. Then he spoke cheerfully in a lighter tone. “By the way, I didn’t just call to continue our favorite line of discussion or talk about trivial things.”
“Oh yeah? What’s up?”
“Do you want anything from Barnes and Noble?”
“Well, yeah of course. I always do. I’ll email you the list.”
“Sure.”
“Why are you asking me this all of sudden?”
Then it hit me. The reason why he’d ask me that. “Are you coming here?!”
“Yeah.”
“When!”
“Within two weeks, for sure.”
I paused for a second and then spoke. “Any special reason? Why take the risk? You know traveling back and forth isn’t easy. Not to mention it’s a ten to twelve hours’ flight.”
“Yeah I know.”
“Then? Can’t just be the lure of my awesome company.”
He laughed. Then he went on in a gentlest possible tone. He spoke crushing my world around me, parching my whole essence in an instant. “You do know that Yusra is getting married?”
A silence of stillborn heartbeats.
“No.” It was all that I managed to say.
“Her wedding is in two weeks. I’m sure you must have known that.”
“I guess my invitation got lost in the mail,” I said with bitterness. Feeling betrayed from all sides.
“No one told you?”
“Nope. No one did.”
“I’m sure they must be getting around to tell you.”
“Hum. I wouldn’t hold my breath though.”
“Oh stop acting like such a victim.”
“That’s why you are coming?”
“Yeah. Duh.”
I brightened up, “hey does that mean you are going to stay with me?”
“Well, I gotta stay at home. So should you.”
I didn’t reply and refrained from retorting.
“But I’ll be with you most of the time. I promise. I won’t catch up with my friends or my former girlfriends here. Just you, ok?”
I finally conceded by laughing just a little. Then of course he broke the subtle ambiance of serenity. “You gonna attend the wedding?”
“How can I?”
“How can you not?”
“Dude, I am not even invited.”
“You don’t know that. Yet. Listen, you gonna end up regretting it, you don’t wanna miss this.”
“Hum,”
“Besides you have to be there to help out with the wedding stuff. You know it’s only Mom, Dad and Yusra there to deal with such things, and Yusra can’t really help, it is her wedding after all . We can’t expect the blushing bride to pitch in, really. So it’s basically Mom and Dad left alone to deal with everything.”
“But now you are coming back.”
“You mean the prodigal son returns?” He joked.
“No man. He never left. You’re talking to the prodigal son,” I said seriously.
“You better be kidding, man,” he paused then he spoke in a lighter tone, “maybe he did left. Ever think about that?”
Of course, I had no answer for that. He continued softly, “do you have any idea how hard it must be for Dad to even look at you after-?
“Not as hard as me having to live through it, I am sure.” I countered sarcastically.
“Stop torturing yourself.”
“I wish it was that easy, Qasim.”
“Just think about what I said, alright? So, I guess I’ll be seeing you real soon.”
“Sure.”
“OK, listen I gotta get back to my homework. Have an assignment due tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
“Talk to you later.”
“You bet.”
“Bye,”
“Bye,” I echoed meekly and hung up the phone, closing the cell’s lid.
The conversation had ended abruptly and I felt dissatisfied. I threw the cell phone on the wooden table. I sat there stewing for a while, mulling over the conversation. I tried not to feel forgotten and abandoned. But that was exactly how I felt. At least, I consoled myself; I’d get to see my baby brother after three years.
Three very desolate years in which I waited for something to happen and now everything was happening all at once and not at all.
“She has a name, you know.”
“Of course. I wasn’t being derogatory. I just forgot her name and remembered only her ethnicity, that’s all. Her name is Ikea, right?”
“How can you come up with a random name like that? It’s Mila.”
“Oh OK, cool. Does she likes you or vice versa?”
“Both.”
“Cool, I do like Russian people. I know they are not the clichéd stereotypes like the movies make them out to be. Just as we are not the stereotypes they make us to be.”
He laughed at that. There was a sudden but comfortable lull in the conversation. I knew what was coming next, but I still cringed when he asked the next predictable question. The one he asks every time we talk, which was about once a week. “Did you call them yet?”
I shook my head then realized he cannot see me. I spoke up, my voice harsh, my throat dry. “No. Not yet.”
“Not yet? What are you waiting for, man?”
“I don’t know.”
“So I take it that you haven’t stopped by the house then? Like I asked you to do a million times?” His voice, which has always been one constant voice of reason in my life, heavy with disappointment. I started to shake my head then stopped. “No,” I said hoarsely.
“Wow.”
“They don’t want me there.”
“It’s your home, dude. It’s our home. Of course, they want you there. They need there. You should go back. It’s time to get past- you know what. ”
I didn’t say anything.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
I laughed sullenly. Because I am still naïve enough to believe in myself. It would be much later in life; I found that nothing is more fitting a punishment than hope.
“So you are still not in touch with anyone from home? No one?”
“Except you.”
“Yeah, except me.”
“It goes both ways, you know,” I said weakly.
“They haven’t contacted me either.”
“That’s so lame, bro and you know it. Stop trying to pin the blame on each other, OK?”
My throat constricted. “They blamed me what happened to Zen.”
“Come on, you know that’s not true.”
“He blamed me.” My voice was an inaudible whisper.
His voice was just as delicate. “Do you really believe that?”
I ignored the bait. “Look-if they wanna get in touch with me, fine but I ain’t gonna make the first move. They basically kicked me out.”
“But you are the one who left, not them.”
“They could have stopped me.”
“You wouldn’t have let them.”
“What do you want me to do, hum?’
“Listen, I can only show you the way. You are the one who has to walk by it yourself.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot Morpheus.”
He didn’t laugh. “It’s been a year. Don’t you think it’s time you stop running?”
“I am not running from anything.” I tried to reign in my anger and keep it away from my tone but it was hard. I cannot afford to piss off my only solace these ashen days.
“Don’t you miss them?” He asked tenderly.
With my every passing breath. I bleed for them every fucking forlorn day, especially her.
“No,” I said. “People only miss each other in fiction. Doesn’t happen in real life.”
I heard him sigh in exasperation. Then he spoke cheerfully in a lighter tone. “By the way, I didn’t just call to continue our favorite line of discussion or talk about trivial things.”
“Oh yeah? What’s up?”
“Do you want anything from Barnes and Noble?”
“Well, yeah of course. I always do. I’ll email you the list.”
“Sure.”
“Why are you asking me this all of sudden?”
Then it hit me. The reason why he’d ask me that. “Are you coming here?!”
“Yeah.”
“When!”
“Within two weeks, for sure.”
I paused for a second and then spoke. “Any special reason? Why take the risk? You know traveling back and forth isn’t easy. Not to mention it’s a ten to twelve hours’ flight.”
“Yeah I know.”
“Then? Can’t just be the lure of my awesome company.”
He laughed. Then he went on in a gentlest possible tone. He spoke crushing my world around me, parching my whole essence in an instant. “You do know that Yusra is getting married?”
A silence of stillborn heartbeats.
“No.” It was all that I managed to say.
“Her wedding is in two weeks. I’m sure you must have known that.”
“I guess my invitation got lost in the mail,” I said with bitterness. Feeling betrayed from all sides.
“No one told you?”
“Nope. No one did.”
“I’m sure they must be getting around to tell you.”
“Hum. I wouldn’t hold my breath though.”
“Oh stop acting like such a victim.”
“That’s why you are coming?”
“Yeah. Duh.”
I brightened up, “hey does that mean you are going to stay with me?”
“Well, I gotta stay at home. So should you.”
I didn’t reply and refrained from retorting.
“But I’ll be with you most of the time. I promise. I won’t catch up with my friends or my former girlfriends here. Just you, ok?”
I finally conceded by laughing just a little. Then of course he broke the subtle ambiance of serenity. “You gonna attend the wedding?”
“How can I?”
“How can you not?”
“Dude, I am not even invited.”
“You don’t know that. Yet. Listen, you gonna end up regretting it, you don’t wanna miss this.”
“Hum,”
“Besides you have to be there to help out with the wedding stuff. You know it’s only Mom, Dad and Yusra there to deal with such things, and Yusra can’t really help, it is her wedding after all . We can’t expect the blushing bride to pitch in, really. So it’s basically Mom and Dad left alone to deal with everything.”
“But now you are coming back.”
“You mean the prodigal son returns?” He joked.
“No man. He never left. You’re talking to the prodigal son,” I said seriously.
“You better be kidding, man,” he paused then he spoke in a lighter tone, “maybe he did left. Ever think about that?”
Of course, I had no answer for that. He continued softly, “do you have any idea how hard it must be for Dad to even look at you after-?
“Not as hard as me having to live through it, I am sure.” I countered sarcastically.
“Stop torturing yourself.”
“I wish it was that easy, Qasim.”
“Just think about what I said, alright? So, I guess I’ll be seeing you real soon.”
“Sure.”
“OK, listen I gotta get back to my homework. Have an assignment due tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
“Talk to you later.”
“You bet.”
“Bye,”
“Bye,” I echoed meekly and hung up the phone, closing the cell’s lid.
The conversation had ended abruptly and I felt dissatisfied. I threw the cell phone on the wooden table. I sat there stewing for a while, mulling over the conversation. I tried not to feel forgotten and abandoned. But that was exactly how I felt. At least, I consoled myself; I’d get to see my baby brother after three years.
Three very desolate years in which I waited for something to happen and now everything was happening all at once and not at all.
