Just so you know, this story bagged third prize in a story writing competition organised by The Truth Magazine! We are proud of you, Lubaina Ehsan. :-)
“Happiness, blissfulness, thankfulness, augustness, balminess these were the most best fit “ness” words I could find in the worldly possession near and dear to me … my dictionary. I am new to my teenage years and have been brought up without my mom and dad. My aunt and uncle did a pretty good job. Tomorrow is the day when Eid is expected to be celebrated but of course it depends on the white, exuberant, crescent moon. If Allah shows it to us tonight then tomorrow will be our day to celebrate with merriment and joy. And I found the words that could best describe the way my heart or you can also say my nucleus with four chambers felt at the mention of the word ‘Eid’. Yes, I love to play with words and I’m always searching for new ones. Do you know what? Words have a taste too. Some feel bitter while others give a sweet savor to the tongue when spoken. And when written down, these words have an eternity of feelings, emotions and sentiments behind them. My dictionary belonged to my dad. He and my mom died when I was only six years old in a car crash, and now it is mine. My uncle, a bookbinder, helped me in modifying it a bit. We have attached crispy white pages at the end so that I can write down my words and sometimes my thoughts too. This is my first entry in these leaves (I recently discovered writing ‘leaves’ instead of pages; fancy words make a write-up more interesting.)
Ayesha had just finished writing this when her aunt called her from downstairs.
“Come on Ayesha! We’re going out to get khussay for you.” “That sure is my aunt’s voice,” were Ayesha’s thoughts. “But her melodious voice seems a bit raspy and flaky too due to her sore throat.” “Coming aunty!” Ayesha’s voice was filled with glee as she pounded down the stairs. She was getting new khussay, new shoes, after all!
Roaming around the crowded market Ayesha made a mental note that the market was ‘packed to the rafters’. “Assalam-o-alaikum,” greeted the salesman as they enteredthe shop. Ayesha’s eyes were wide open as she took in all the colors, shimmer and vibrancy of the rows and rows of khussay arranged. Wherever she looked she saw sparkles and tinkles, but in the midst of all this she spotted a spot of dullness. She stopped to look at what it was and to her surprise it was a girl!
A girl dressed in rags. A cloth barely covered her head. To anybody else she would seem like a beggar, a person who pleads for money, but to Ayesha she seemed different. Ayesha saw a tiny bead of a tear streak down her cheek.
While Ayesha’s aunt was busy haggling over the price she went over to where the girl stood. Both girls stood equally tall facing each other and looked of about the same age. “What’s wrong?” Ayesha’s voice spoke with empathy. The girl just stared at her as if she had seen a ghost. “It’s alright, I don’t bite.” At this the girl smiled just as Ayesha realized her phrases rhymed. “I am an orphan,” spoke the girl in a low voice, “It’s only been six months since my parents passed away. My grandfather has taken me in but he earns hardly enough to feed me and himself. I remember coming to this same khussa shop last year with my ‘ammi’, holding her hand and stepping into this shop not knowing that she would not be with me the next year. I miss her and my dad so much.” By this time Ayesha’s eyes had welled up with tears too. Both the girls sat down near the shop and cried. Ayesha felt what it was like not to have one’s parents but she felt worse knowing that an orphan, just like her, was going through such dire circumstances.
Ayesha’s aunt came out just then and saw the girls on the curb, sitting together like long lost friends. Ayesha, sensing her aunt’s presence stood up, took the new khussay from her hand and gently gave them to the girl. The moment spoke of happiness. The girl smiled, a smile that was as flawless as the smoothness of silk. It lit up her face until it was like a star’s shine.
Ayesha looked up at the sky. On the dark sky was the Eid moon smiling down at her. For the moment the moon’s glow seemed no different than the girl’s smile, like gems shining in a dark cave. That’s when Ayesha knew what the spirit of Eid was, something she had not given much thought to, before.
This was Ayesha’s entry in her diary for that night. “Eid is about sharing; sharing happiness, sharing joy, care and laughter. And the biggest achievement on Eid is to make another person smile, for a smile can light up even the darkest of moments. Thinking about it, I didn’t even ask the girl’s name!”
