1st September, 2019

Fairytales were just a bunch of scam, partly they played a part in the reality. They turned into nightmares. They broke my heart. The reality on the other hand was just very real, it never changed. It was what it was.

"Depression is real. Especially for Muslims like us. I remember a friend telling me that we Muslims don't have a thing called depression. It's not within ourselves, that it is all just in the head or simply phases. But she was wrong. Only true Muslims can know what depression is like. Because we know what real happiness is. We know what's it like when we run low on our Iman. Raw misery, real depression." She muttered, she felt as if  her soul was floating across the air. She ignored the dark yet glittery sky as her heart was flying up to it.

"Do you always feel like that?" The girl sitting across her resting figure asked.

"Yes, almost every time." Delera shrugged.

"Maybe you should go out more. Or, try to be with people. Like, with similar interests. It really helps. Being with different people gives you new perspectives and different motivations. You never know." The girl suggested.

Delera smiled the signature smile of hers and muttered, "I know, Anyah. I know. But I can't. Paranoia, anxiety, trust issues. And there's so much more that I don't know and that I would not see them coming when I connect or interact. I fear that I wouldn't know how to handle myself when I get into the things that aren't meant for me!" She explained.

The usual story. Her friend rolled her eyes at her. "You always look down upon yourself, you are not that low and weak to handle yourself. You manage just fine without anyone. You should go easy on yourself. Also, I think you should talk to someone, you know like a shrink or something. . .  ." Anyah trailed off knowing just well what her friend's answer would be. Delera would comment, I have you to talk to, besides I'm a shrink myself!

But this time, she was just quiet.

She stared up at the night sky while ignoring the turmoil of loneliness that settled upon her. Yet, she wondered, what was it like to have real friends, to be with them, to have the same love for each other? What was it like to matter, to mean something to somebody who would be everybody to her. What was it like to have somebody to talk to, without having the fear of trust issues and paranoia. What was it like to have what everyone else had?

And she was back to square one. The topic of trust is a sensitive matter. She was very careful even when spending time with Anyah. Her guard was always up. A shield that protects her from the world. Nevertheless, she had given life many second chances, when usually it is the other way around. She guessed things were different when it came to her.

"Anyway, how are things at home?" Anyah momentarily changed the subject.

"Same old, same old!" She muttered. She didn't know why she was even replying to Anyah.

"I guess I should leave, or else, I would miss the ten o'clock bus. Thanks for the time Del, it means so much!"

Delera only nodded at her as she sat up straight from the sheet above the garden floor. She gave her a smile and Anyah returned the same.

Before she reached to backdoor, stopping in midway she called out, "Hey, good luck for the big meeting tomorrow. And try to get rich, yeah!"

Delera only frowned and murmured to herself, " Oh, you had to remind me of the reality! Again!"

A disappointment, a heartbreak, a loss

I try not to think about it

I can't have what others have

Who's talking about possessions?

Who's talking about money and assets?

Who's talking about a posh life?

So I have learned,

People say things they don't intend to mean

So I have learned,

It was all a blow to my heart for the time being

So I have learned,

Your heart can't be replaced even if the person's dead

A ship never sails steady

It wrecks havoc with storms after storms

But all I ever wanted was a relation

Loyalty, I wanted it to be proved to me

Love, I wanted its power to be optimistic

Lies, careful, they can bring joy to the heart,

Just for the time being, when they aren't to be believed

A nobody to somebody

I wanted to feel less lonely

I wanted simple things together

But it was all complicated

Simplicity is a myth today

I'm a pessimist alright

In the philosophical terms

So if you look close, I'm a real realist

Those lies behind the veil

Made me one

So don't ever dare blame me

Tried and tried,

What about trying harder?

I'm so tired

Where was the love and loyalty then?

But I guess the lies got to me first and faster

A purest form of love,

The only sign of loyalty,

The best of gifts;

When only a person spends their time with another

But who would?

Time's precious, you see

It's intangible yet powerful

Cannot be bought

It's value is priceless

See now?

No one's a fool

But me

No one's stupid enough

To give me their one thing

Which's value is higher than money;

Time; which is everything a person can have after money

° ° °

"

Ameen?!" He heard his father calling out for him for the fourth time. Getting up from his bed, he slowly strode towards the main dining room.

"Yes?" He replied impatiently.

"Sit, let's talk!" His father's tone was intimidating but it didn't affect him, nothing really affected him these days.

As much as he wanted to refuse, he thought it best if he didn't. Everyone was at the table, even wateen's husband. He didn't want to be seem as some depressed disrespectful widower. Reputation and prestige still mattered to him somehow. What would Taraa comment on his current behaviour? Oh, Reputation is every man's luxury. Something they can never afford to lose. It's the other way around when it comes to man's reputation.

Clearing his thoughts, he took the closest seat to his father while ignoring those judgemental looks from his mother.

"So, I'm flying to New York tonight. I won't be back for a couple of weeks. Until then, I need you to attend my meetings on my behalf since you are all at home, doing nothing . . . official." He declared.

"Doing nothing?! I have been taking care of my daughter for the past two years and you call it nothing? Not to mention the grieving for my dead wife!"

"If Taraa was here . . . " His father paused, taking in the tensed atmosphere that had been created upon the mention of her deceased daughter-in-law. "You would have taken care of Alya nonetheless. So, don't you dare use your own daughter as an excuse. And before you say something useless, just think about your situation, more than that, think about your daughter's future. She'll need you, not her grandparents or her aunt. So, that's why I'm hooking you up with my business."

This got him angrier. "So, now I'm gonna just inherit whatever you did in your life? This is my job now?"

His father gave out a mocked laugh. "Whoever said I'm going to pay you?"

"Why the heck would I even agree to this if I'm not getting paid? I'm not going to work for free!" Ameen justified.

"Can't believe you were a doctor before, look at you, look at how you turned out a-"

But, Sara was cut off by her husband.

"Son, you can do whatever job you like, as long as the income is lawful, halaal. I don't mind it. But the thing is, you have to do something, anything. You can't just sit at home like this, you have to busy yourself or else shaytaan would get you busy in things even you have never imagined yourself to be involved in. I'm just giving you a head start with my absence in the company. Nothing more. Just for a few weeks. You haven't been practicing medicine for the past two years. And it's a huge deal. As your father, I know it's my responsibility to catch you when you are falling apart."

"Yeah, I get all that. But I have fallen apart."

His father shook his head, "That's shaytaan making you think that way. You know you have completely fallen apart when you do things that were never within your thoughts and intentions. You are falling apart, that's true hence your rude and arrogant behaviour towards your elders, that makes us two!"

Ameen sighed. He was suddenly alarmed upon Alya's cries. As he was about to rush towards her, his father stopped him. "Wateen will see to her!"

"Dad!" Ameen exclaimed. His father was silent, waiting for his answer so he had to give up. "Fine, I'll do it. Attend your meetings till you are gone!"

"I know!" His father nodded with a smile. Ameen abruptly got up to leave but paused in his tracks when his father said, "Remember, you will be the boss, so act like one."

° ° °

He knew the business world just fine even being a surgeon. Only thing was business wasn't his deal. It was just there in his blood. But blood was everything that mattered to him instead, in literal terms. And if anything, deep down he knew he wasn't the same Ameen two years ago, Taraa would have surely reproved upon seeing the huge change in his character.

He wasn't up for this, but he had to do it for his father. Sitting ahead of everyone, he wondered how his dad loved this career where they aim to make the rich, richer and the poor, poorer.

The unfair balance. But that wasn't his concern, why should it be? He didn't want to be the hero again, he wasn't ready to be a hero after all it had costed him. More likely, why should he save a world that is meant to end one day?

He was supposed to give the speech his dad had written for him, but as the conference room was being filled with more and more unknown faces who smiled and greeted him as if they knew him like brothers, he had a change of heart.

Because, why not?

Briefly, when the room was silenced and his acknowledgment awaited, he remembered the last words his father told him, you are the boss.

He began and slowly the atmosphere started to blend in and he was there, speaking as if he was born ready. It was so simple! Maybe he should really take his dad's place. It was so much better than medicine, oh where was he all these years?!

When the partners started to discuss and vote, he seemed to be loving this job. So refreshing and peaceful and somewhat fun. Why wasn't medicine that way?! Why did it have to kill someone at the end of the day?!

Ignoring his silly and heartbroken thoughts, he finally went about asking random partners and seniors about the decision on expanding the business. His eyes landed on a young woman, who looked quite professional but something was so off about her, like she didn't want the expansion to take place.

"You are, Miss  . . . "

"Darien. It's Delera Darien." She went quiet after that, like she didn't want to speak even though everyone wasn't really paying attention to her. She was wasting time and it had upset Ameen.

Clearing his throat he pressed his lips, "Look, I'm no racist or sexist. But if you have nothing to say while you are at the table, then you don't deserve a seat at the table." He was coldly rude, and he saw her raising her brows.

"Maybe that's the exact problem. You always want something in return. So, in that way, the rich will be richer, and the poor, poorer.
You business men only grow the world leaving so much damage for the poor to suffer, and now you plan to take it to the next level? If anyone, it's you who don't deserve a seat at the table." She backfired like a pro but Ameen didn't care how good she had sounded.

Who was this girl? Whoever she was, she wasn't just any girl. Ameen was silent, he had nothing to say but he needed to win his pride back. "Um, we are not here to save the world or solve the problems of the poor or even discriminate classes. Those are none of our concerns. Our goal and concern is to only to expand our business, so you don't have to take it to the next level, miss Darien."

And everyone fell into a synchronized bunch of laughter and he noticed the raw humiliation behind those grey eyes which she was trying so hard to conceal. But he felt good, people should experience stuff like that. It happens, it's life. When he could experience a loss, someone else could also experience something so little like humiliation. It's no big deal!

He was surely falling apart, he was forgetting the concept and the value of being selfless. What he didn't know was that being a doctor brought out the best in him. Something even Taraa couldn't see. Someone who was selfless and polite enough, doing so much for the world without him even realising it.

Driving back to his parent's place he was thinking about the times he used to go home to Taraa, he couldn't understand and differentiate his guilt and love for her but he knew for a fact that he had missed her, so, so much. And now he had to go home to a cranky kid and a disappointed mother.

Ameen went straight to his daughter without even uttering salaam. He just wanted to escape all those questions and especially his mom. When his eyes finally settled on Alya, his heart found his way back home. There, only Alya was his home. His last and only piece of his lost love. His reminder of all those broken memories. Picking her up, who in return called out for him,

"Daddy!"

"Yes baby, it's me!" He kissed her head and hugged her close whilst caressing her back, while her sleepy eyes and her excited heart only found peace in the most secure and promising arms of her hero. Her daddy.

Ameen's biggest sorrow and joy was that Taraa left this piece of her heart as a gift for him.

A heart in the gift wrap.