18th January, 2019

There's a whole another world residing among ours.

"I am having trouble coping up with my credit hours, it's such a mess that I can't even breath." Malak left out a heavy sign.

Taraa was silent, simply enjoying the fact that she was ignoring her friend.

"So, I wanted to ask you about my research. It's a very conflicting one but I think you have my back for this?" Malak began as Taraa rolled her eyes.

"Maybe." She whispered.

For Malak, Taraa's maybe always meant a 'yes'. Grinning she began her vent, Taraa was patiently listening, trying so hard to not ignore. Their conversation came down to the verses of humanity and loss when Malak suddenly asked, "Do you think the connection between us is important?"

This caught Taraa's attention as she sat up straight. "Human connection is not important. People misinterpret the two between human connection and human interaction. The latter is what you are talking about? That's what bases the mankind, you can't live without it, you can't flow with life if you don't thrive with it. Human connection on the other hand is a matter of personal reference, it's a lot to deal with, two way effort and in way roots, it's something messy and not essential."

Taraa stopped right away, not willing to get into details.

"Have you ever connected?" Malak nonchalantly asked while Taraa wished she hadn't.

Looking away she sighed, "My mother . . ."

"Do you miss her?"

"No. She's gone for good." Her monotone replies were obvious.

Malak then slowly said, "She's your mother, did you ever forgive her?"

"Yes, I made my peace with her."

"I didn't know you guys were close. . . " Malak trailed off.

"It's obvious that we were close. First child, first and only daughter, I got all the attention and care I didn't deserve while Abed did, though he never cared. But this affected my brother in ways I cannot even imagine. Mother was a little crazy, driven by passion or I'd rather say obsession. She wanted to become something she never could, she put her career above her marriage. I think all the storms have calmed down after she left this world."

Even then, that written storm was her only peace.

"My mother . . . her death taught me how to sit with loneliness. The real taste of loneliness is when you give all that you have, all too much, all the way deep to the beyond not realizing that it is the one way reaction. When you keep drifting away from the sea of people to understand that human connection isn't meant for you. When you give up trying to connect, to fit in, to build ships that have no guarantee of anchoring or permanence. When you go back to sleep during the broken phases of night, curling in the arms of loneliness while it assures you that God is One, Only He understands the broken abstracts of your heart, those complex feelings floating your soul, those confused thoughts lurking inside the corners of your mind . . "

She was drifting away while dreaming about this world?

"When death was beautifying itself, life was dreaming out there as my breaths were sinking in my heart. The borderline was easy to cross. My mind was flying and my heart stopped whilst that, then I heard my soul whispering to me that, it happens dear, it will be like that." Taraa paused before grasping the leftover courage she owned.

"That was exactly how I felt when she died."

Malak's apologetic expression gave away nothing, she just came and engulfed her friend in the deserved hug.

"Get well soon and you have no idea how I guiltily sorry I am for your injury." She said, carefully and safely patting on Taraa's perfectly secured and wrapped knee.

To Loneliness,

I weep because of your presence in every step of my life. You bestow me a silent pain, a pain best of all from your collection. I've known you far too long and yet, here I am, unable to accept you.

In a typical sense, you hurt me the most in times I've got no choice but to float on your surface as I lean on your back. Why do you have to come to me, just me? Is it because I see everyone else with someone else, then I scan for someone else's company other than you? Is it because you're hurting too? Is it because you and I are the same case? Maybe after all, you weren't that bad of a friend!

Should I thank you or dissect your real purpose? Despite it all, I come to realize that you of all matters and souls, understand the need for human connection, and that's why you always find me. Do you think I'm ungrateful? Then I apologize for being a total selfish freak for never considering you.

So I take an oath to sit longer than time, longer than infinity with you. Together, we'd make dreams of our own, those we'd know would never come true, together, we'd unravel each other's existence.

With grace,
Your known soul

"Taraa?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I should consider Ajmal for mar-"

But then the doorbell cut her off.

"I'll go get it!" Malak beamed.

Taraa rested her head back and sighed, she was tired from doing physiotherapy since morning, and especially from Malak's company. She sighed in relief when Aunt Esta greeted her, meaning Malak would leave soon. She hated not being able to walk without caution, she felt trapped somehow and needed time to fly faster than ever.

"How are you doing?"

"Alhamdulillah, I'm doing fine." Taraa smiled, her voice sounded distant.

"What's on your mind?" Aunt Esta lovingly asked.

"A lot of things."

"Regarding?"

"I'm looking for a job . . ." Taraa trailed off.

Aunt Esta rolled her eyes and pressed her lips, "Oh, not again! For the past two years, you resigned from three different jobs, and now I'm sure you are getting one only to resign after six months or even less, what's up with you?"

"Hey now, I began as a carer at the Local Autism Center, then at some boring high school as a Philosophy teacher, then finally at the clinic as the therapist. I needed changes from all of them, I never had any plans to settle for a lifetime with any of them! Imagine working in the same place for twenty years or so, waking up to the same thoughts and expected vibes, with the same people! It'd be a nightmare, Aunt Esta."

Aunt Esta only shrugged, "You are so many things, Taraa. Anyway, what kind of job are you looking for this time?"

"I want a temporary job at the Retirement Center. I have this want . . . to sit among the old and just vent about general stuff about life so that I learn a thing or two about them."

"Yes, yes! We'll see about that."

"Insha Allah." Taraa in turn muttered.

"How have you been doing?" Aunt Esta asked after a while. And Taraa knew what her Aunt meant.

"I have been grateful to God, even though all evidences are to the contrary." Taraa replied carefully.

"Yes, I pray you never lose your sense of gratitude." Aunt Esta muttered, hoping up she then strode towards the kitchen to make some tea.

Wandering her thoughts off to space, her boredom pained her and she wished her helpless leg would return to normal. The doorbell snapped her out of internal whinning and she found herself rolling eyes at the expected person's arrival. Ameen had been taking very good care of her but sometimes it felt as if she's a patient to him than his wife.

But when Aunt Esta welcomed the unexpected guest, Taraa felt her heart twist in annoyance upon seeing her.

"Hey Taraa, how are you? How are you feeling?" She leaned in to place a kiss on Taraa's cheek as she placed the flowers and chocolates beside her.

"Joan!" Taraa replied. "I thought you were moving back to London after graduation?"

"No, I couldn't. There's a lot going on back home so I decided against it." She replied, her thick accent reminded Taraa how much she was secretly missing college.

"I see. So, you have enrolled for the masters program I assume?" Taraa slowly asked, trying to make a small conversation with her.

Glancing at Aunt Esta who brought biscuits and tea for them she mentally rolled her eyes.

"Yes, of course! What, I wasn't gonna just sit around and do nothing." Joan sighed. "What about you, still moving jobs as always?"

Taraa laughed, "Yes, you could say that." After pausing for a brief moment Taraa dared herself to ask, "So, do you believe, after all that happened?"

Joan made a face. "Yes, God is one! How convenient!" Her mocked expression didn't even surprise Taraa although it caused a dent in her heart. Joan was one of her close friends who didn't believe in God although she had a Jewish background.

"You cannot simply say that an-"

"Oh, so you want my beliefs to emanate from my actions? Do you know how stupid that sounds?"

Taraa looked away, unconsciously grabbing the hand knife from the table beside. "Wanna hear a joke, Joan?"

"Yes, sure."

"There are no creation other than us who are actually stupid."

° ° °

Do you ever think of time? How it is or how it had begun and all? It's always said that time flies, that it never stops, it's broken in a sense that its loophole has none. That's how it's broken, it never pauses, no force or matter can ever interrupt it. But what if . . . the world was mistaken? What if you can stop time, not in actuality of course?

You can only feel time when you are being productive.

Coming back to square one, God is The First, The Creator Who created time. Therefore time is another creation of God.

I think that the minds of today aren't advancing, evolving or enhancing. They are only getting denser, dumber and diabolical.

In the logical language, something cannot be created by itself, there has to be a creator. But for some people, while explaining 1+1, they want to understand algebra.

Respect is overrated here, Logic needs the big role. No matter what, God is One. 1400 years ago, science was revealed in the Qur'an, the words of Allah. Science came from Qur'an.

Science and Logic is related here, maybe some people's minds aren't.

You don't always have to learn the hard way, from the basis of regret and realization. There are beautiful ways, there are always better ways to learn things.

Pausing her mental rent, she sighed. She could only give up but in the process of it she knew not to lose hope for these people.

Joan left shortly, and when Ameen finally came home, it was Aunt Esta's turn to leave.

"How are you?"

Taraa shrugged after whispering 'Alhamdulillah'. Taraa yelped in alarm when he handed her the huge flower bouquet.

Glaring at him she hesitated to take it, instead she plucked one of the roses and started chewing on the petals taking her husband in utter surprise.

"I bring you flowers and you eat them." It was more of a comment than a question, Ameen wasn't sure if he was to be surprised or not by her bluntness.

"What do people usually then?"

"Appreciate it, blush or I don't know . . ." Ameen trailed off upon realising what he was implying.

Taraa shrugged, Ameen helped her up and they were taking slow walks around in their apartment like always. It has been three weeks since the surgery and frequent exercises were mandatory for her.

"You said you weren't on schedule today but you were gone all day?" Taraa randomly asked.

"Yes, I had some old stuff to take care of." Ameen stated, his voice suspiciously low.

Taraa's disinterest poked her. But at that moment, she didn't care. "Let's go to the rooftop?"

Ameen's sour expression made her laugh.

"Come on, I'm bored!"

"Always!" Her husband exclaimed.

"I will get more exercise, doc?" Taraa convinced.

"Did you just call me doc?!" Ameen laughed.

"You heard me." Taraa smiled.

"I like the sound of that . . . especially coming from you." He nervously admitted.

"I feel special?" Taraa joked and then they continued their banter up the way towards the roof.

Settling down, they sat on the edge railing after Taraa convinced him that it was safely thrilling to do so. It took an argument for them to decide for and against it as Ameen wanted to play safe and cautious but Taraa being Taraa, she got what she wanted.

"Um, the sky's clear and dark." Ameen said impatiently.

"No, look closely . . . I can see the their traces." Taraa whispered, her eyes lost within the shades of the night.

"Taraa, it's cold, pretty late and creepily quiet. I think it's best if we just go back, huh?"

"You can take my shawl if you are cold. And, I'm right with you, do not be afraid of the quiet." Taraa assured amidst her daze.

Ameen just huffed. Rising his head towards the plain sky and started spinning his own train of thoughts.

Today had been stressful for him, and the worst day of his life. He finally signed off the divorce papers which he had been dragging and waiting on it for months now. Arya was finally out of his life, and it was a relief for him. Since the chapter had closed, he didn't need to talk to Taraa about it, let alone how she would react to it. He would not confide in her, not because he was afraid that things would turn up messy but because he wasn't confident enough to break it out to her.

"Staring at the skies and the shooting stars which break our hearts as they bring wishful dreams which don't match the reality. The policemen, the criminals, the distant sirens, the lonely, the unknown, the lost, the broken, they all sleep in their own ways in their world while we stay awake with the stars, I guess the city deceives us in the most severely cool way."

Ameen turned to gaze at her instead, her eyes coming back in the form of poetry, the reflection is the most beautiful thing ever and within the second everything fell apart.

"There are no shooting stars . . ." Ameen whispered frowning.

"I just had a glimpse of one." Taraa smiled, her expressions softening.

"I haven't." Ameen shook his head.

"Maybe you weren't focusing . . . " Taraa rolled her eyes.

"Why should I focus on them? These jealous stars don't interest me at all!" He gave out her a smile.

"You think the stars are jealous of you?" Taraa shot him an incredulous look.

"Of . . . you or me! It rounds up to the same thing." He admitted.

"Ther-"

"It wa-"

They were both interrupted at the same time by each each other. "You go first." Ameen offered.

"No, it's okay. You began first." Taraa argued.

They kept on arguing about it for some time until they both have forgotten what they had in mind. Their gazes instinctively locked and they couldn't look away.

"A psychological theory is when two people forget the same matter of thing or maybe different, the immediate reaction is that they turn to look at each other. We punish ourselves for forgetting, not realizing that forgetting help us to actually move on." Taraa explained, her soft voice attracting him.

"Psychology is bullshit." Ameen laughed and Taraa agreed.

"But seemingly to what you said, for this situation what exactly do we move onto?" Ameen prolonged.

Taraa then intertwined their hands, inching closer when Ameen suddenly let go their right hand and placed his hand on her waist to secure her from any risks. Taraa's hands gripped the collars of his shirt and then she pulled him for a kiss.

Feeling his smile, she felt a sense of joy she couldn't understand. Her knee was surging jolts of pain upon her uncomfortable sitting position but at that moment she didn't care. Maybe pain and happiness are friendly related?

"Do you ever think about the future?" She asked him out of the blue.

"Yes, I think about it all the time."

"Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe your thoughts are your dreams? You shouldn't dream, dreams can hurt bad if they don't find reality. Maybe that's the problem, that's how laziness forms. As our 'dream thoughts' make us feel like we live in the future more than we do in the present, that's why we get carried away, we lose touch with the present, we lose living in it. That's why we are made to believe that time flies faster than us. . . "

The stars have died and I find myself living inside the shooting stars, my heart is breaking. It's a dream I guess, a temporary phase, masked with lies, unreal reality. Where was the reality then? Was it broken? Lost? Did it die too?

And then they passed their time venting about the universe. Everyday was the same for them. Ameen would come home tired, walk her to bed, they would sleep like as if they were strangers to each other, just living for the sake of it. None of them bothers to vouch for more or actually connect. They wouldn't bother about each other emotionally, it was something she didn't mind and at the same time Taraa knew she wasn't the type of person who would want to let somebody in. Deep down, her heart longed for what she didn't.

Today was different. Maybe not everyday remains the same.

They went back to the apartment shortly after. Ameen helped her to the washroom and waited for her outside the door. Her knee was progressing but she still needed care and attention. Tomorrow they would go for the weekly checkups and more scans. It w-

The buzzing of the phone broke him out of his plans and he went to grab it from the dresser. It was Taraa's phone, the number was unknown so Ameen did not hesitate to receive it. Who on earth would call her at one in the morning?!

Only one person. But Ameen couldn't recognize him.

"I need to talk with Taraa." The man's tone was serious, confident and somewhat bored.

"W .who is . . ." Ameen was confused, he was in a loss of words.

"Don't waste my time, just put her on!" He snapped taking Ameen aback. The man sounded like he knew Ameen, making him confused all the more.

When Taraa came out, she frowned at Ameen when he handed her the phone.

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna text you a location, be there as soon as you can . . right now!"

"Abed?" She sounded confused and rolled her eyes when Ameen cringed at her. She knew Abed weirds her husband out.

"Oh, miss me? Anyway, I'm waiting for you." With that he hung up.

Why is she not surprised? "My brother needs to see me." She said grabbing her abaya.

"Are you out of your mind?" Ameen yelled, "Do you know what time it is?"

"Half past one, I am aware." Taraa shrugged. Opening the text message from her brother, the location read to a grill restaurant. Almost near the borders of Washington. What was in Abed's mind? She needn't worry as she would only find out.

"Taraa, I'm not allowing you to this. I do not trust that guy." Ameen firmly said.

"I trust him. That should be enough for you." She replied. "My brother needs something from me, maybe has something to tell me and I like to help or be there for him."

"No."

"Ameen! Either way, I'm going."

"You can't."

"Of course I can." She snapped, highly annoyed by him.

"This is insane . . . out of order!" Ameen sighed.

"Who loves normal anyway? There's no fun in being perfect." She threw her hands in the air. "You are wasting my time, I am going."

"You can't drive." Ameen reminded.

"Then drive me there please, he is waiting and we haven't got all night."

It's December now,
The year just blew flew
The nostalgia creeps in
The seasonal vibes of aesthete start to grow
Here I am withered, found myself lost once again.

Hold me,
I need to break once again within the roughness of your palms
I need to regrow once again within the time loop of nature
I need to heal all the wounds once again within the drop of petrichor
I need the blessed time to right all that have been wronged

Melt me down,
Drill down the icebergs you would find inside me
Search for the crystals after to caress their worth
Wait for the first sunbeam when you would finally learn to carry the weights of patience in my cause
Walking through the darkness of night, my steps are witnessed by the ticking of time

Break my heart,
I can get over it like I'm used to it
I gaze at the stars in the skies of the night and leave the longest sigh out of my heart
I watch the shooting stars that pass by that break my heart into millions
Those that come with wishes and dreams that don't match the reality

Kill my dreams,
As I would watch others resurrect them and live them as if they were their norms
As I would sob and tire my soul upon dragging those sorrows as if an anchor unwilling to be lifted
As those galleries in my heart would shatter down into ashes and eventually fade off
When I would finally lose all the memories as my soul would settle in the arms of amnesia

Understand me,
I go to war every new day
I don't rest even if I can give up
I can't find the rest of me
But the devil was clear when he swore he'd come for our hearts

Forget me,
My soul is breaking as the ultimatum rises
Not sure if there's any sense in what I am writing,
Not sure of anything at all
Not sure if there's any end to this conversation

Human connection, it doesn't suit me well
It wasn't meant for me like how everything isn't meant for me
Like this world
I once laughed at the universe but now it's time for karma
Reminding me that nothing could ever combat into something for me

I don't think souls find each other to complete one another,
Their halves find one another to break them more into multiple halves
None is complete but God
Therefore incompleteness looks good on me
I rather stay that way with my aesthete

Imperfections elevate beauty,
it's what makes it more beautiful
I am meant to be fated just as how I am
Forever incomplete
yet you are another of my broken pieces

Don't ask, accept it
We make a good couple of strangers
I like that
we don't be held in each other's presence
Our aura is severely cool
As we always pick up from where we leave off

I don't think,
you could understand the broken pieces of my heart
I don't think
I think each one of the pieces has its own story
I don't think
I can carry the weight of my heart's shards

I don't think,
But I'm breaking here
Under the crisp of the cold which is burning and churning inside me
I don't think
But my tired eyes and my broken smile may have hinted you

I don't think,
My heart ever understands me
I don't think
But I'm drifting away
Whilst dreaming about the stars and the moon

I think,
I'm still hoping,
Like a fool!

Ignore my longing heart,
Shut the doors
Before you walk in
Open regrets
Empty darkness
Haunting silence
Sorrowed infinity

° ° °

They stopped in front a faraway glitzy Grill. Taraa pressed her lips upon seeing the Arabic letters of Halaal prints on the glass doors. Halaal restaurants meant that the owners were from the family's business circle or from Abed's connections. No wonder Abed was hidding out here.

"Wait in the car, will you?"

"Yeah, not in a mood to face that psycho anyway." Ameen muttered making her laugh.

She made her way towards the doors, wrapping her arms around her she shivered against the cold wind. Thankful for the warmth that engulfed her the moment she stepped in, the delicious smell of smoked meat already filled up her appetite. Her eyes scanned around the place when they found the familiar face slumped on the benches. Bringing her shawl closer to her, with her steady steps she strode to him.

"Should I give Salaam, so that my right be fulfilled?" She began, receiving no reply from him.

Taking the seat opposite to him, she asked "Why did you want to see me?"
"Bail me out!"

"Abed, I can't. It's not my area of expertise to begin with. I can't even tell dad about it!"

"You think I'm stupid? I know what I am asking from you. Be my witness so the sentence is lessened."

"I do not want to end up in some juvie for perjury!"

"You go to jail for that, not juvie. Also, you are an adult!"

"Oh, the same thing all around."

They both shrugged and continued with their argument until they settle with Taraa lying under oath for Abed.

"I can't belive you are making me do this."

"Don't worry. You will believe, sooner or later when it comes to reality." Abed rudely remarked.

Taraa noticed something about his mood. "How did you break out of the asylum?

"Azar!" His tone was obvious. Abed gestured the waiter who rushed in their direction.

"Yes?"

He ordered his burger and wings, didn't even bother to ask his sister if she wanted anything. Taraa didn't mind, she wasn't craving for food or her appetite wasn't up for anything. She eyed at his clothes, the white t-shirt and the black jeans.

"What happened to your uniform?"

Abed made a face, "I wasn't planning on running around in asylum clothes obviously! I made Azar bring them from my condo."

"Did you seduce that girl into your escape plan?" Taraa cringed at her choice of words but at that moment she couldn't help it.

Abed burst out laughing, "Sis, it was her idea to break out and reach out to you! Also, I was craving for some real food. It's been months. And although we kissed couple of times before, I mean in our freshmen year until Del came around so Azar thought it needed to stop. Nothing happened after that till now, we are cool."

"Del?" Taraa questioned.

"Yeah, I dated her till my senior year."

"Oh." Taraa wasn't surprised or disgusted by his new information. It was just nice seeing him in a neutral mood. She was glad but something about that moment felt nostalgic yet she ignored those odd vibes.

She watched him eat like he had never seen food in life, he ordered another one and Taraa just rolled her eyes.

She realized that it was the absence of alcohol for the result of his good mood. She heard that he hadn't been drinking since before the asylum, during the court times. She was really glad, something about him changed. As much as she wanted to tell him, her silence advised her not to.

"What happened to your leg?" He asked in between sipping his coke.

"How did you know?" She slowly asked.

"You walk normally but steadier and your steps are very calculative, so of course it has to be something with your knee. Although the surgery had been done recently, you seemed to have recovered earlier than usual, the reason why you do not use the walking frame or the crutches." He finished, taking another huge bite from his second burger.

Oh how could she ever forget about Abed's observation skills!

"It was ACL, I fell off skating."

"I see."

"You were so sure I'd come to see you at two in the morning after you broke out?! Why did you think I would still care?" Taraa questioned, she needed to hear what he had to say.

"It's family, you would always care. You can't run from that or let alone deny it." He was plain obvious and Taraa closed her eyes shut.

Taraa paid the bill, since Abed was empty. They headed out and Taraa raised a brow when she glanced at the 1963 galaxie, midnight blue.

"I thought you sold it."

"I will." Abed muttered, hopping inside.

An idea fused inside her head and she worriedly looked over at Ameen's car which was parked away from the bays of the Grill.

"Wait, don't leave yet." She yelled over at Abed.

Walking to their car, she sighed in relief when she found Ameen napping. She didn't want to wake him up and the thought of driving back all the way home with her husband bored her.

She went back to an impatient Abed.

"Ameen's fast asleep."

"So?" Abed snapped.

"I don't want to go home just yet." Taking advantage of his good mood, she said, "Teach me how to drift."

Abed laughed shaking his head, "I don't teach, I do them."

"Before you go, who knows if we ever see each other again, teach me. You have one night anyway. Let's have some fun. Sometimes, I want to drive not just because I need to, but because I want to."

"Save it, nothing's ever gonna conv-" She cut him off.

"You taught me how to shoot, teach me this too, it wouldn't hurt." Taraa tried convincing him.

"I'm sure that was a waste of time and a total failure!"

"Shouldn't it be the teacher's fault?"

"Shouldn't it be the student's . . who didn't put her heart into it?" Abed countered.

"Bullets were never my thing to begin with, but this time my heart will be in the speed, it's a promise."

Abed got out of the car, slamming the door he brought out the handgun from his back and handed it out to her. Her expression was priceless.

"Where did you get that from?"

Abed tsked, "How could that be your first question? You women are strange. Shouldn't you be asking why am I giving it to you?"

Her bored eyes glared at him. "Answer mine!"

"I stole it from Adel's place . . . that's the first thing I did after I escaped."

"Didn't it hurt your ego that you stole from someone you claim to hate? Wouldn't it be like beneath you?"

Abed smirked, "Oh I made him a loss, it benefited me so that's a win for me."

"Okay! So what do I do with the gun?"

"Shoot a coin so I see if it had been a total failure teaching you to shoot. If you pass my test, I will teach you to drift. If you don't, then you'd have to go back to your boring home and sleep with the doc!"

"What, no!! We practised a rifle not a handgun." Taraa whined.

"It's almost the same." Abed rolled his eyes and huffed. Taraa then took the gun from him.

Abed then pulled out a coin from her abaya's pocket and tossed it in the air, "Shoot in half!"

With her tight grip, she paused for a breath and pulled the trigger, right into the coin in the air. Before it could land on the ground Abed's reflexive response caught it.

He saw the bullet hole on the edge of the coin, disappointed that it wasn't in the middle. "You could take down somebody if not entirely kill. Not bad, must I admit."

He then grinned at her and she mirrored him.

"Hop in, sis!"

Everyone carries a bullet in their hearts, bleeding with kinds of pain and loss. Shielding the heart from other uglier bullets, so when others trigger again, it causes lesser pain, the loss becomes an old same matter to deal with.

May the cold of this month remind you of the hidden warmth in your heart.