"Because she is a broken pretty thing,
And he is the little boy who grew up
Mending,
Treating,
Loving
Broken things."
                                                                                               -Nikita Gill
_______________________________________________________________

From the clear French windows of the garden I look at the flurry of activity inside my house. Two small bags lie on the sofa and another is on the floor in the drawing room. Ziyan's black bag is unzipped, its flap lay open and his clothes lay in a bundled heap some outside others inside. Dad's bag is the only one that is zipped and ready.

Early in the morning, I had packed what I wanted to take, toothbrush, toothpaste, an extra set of clothes, a dress for the night, and a few other things.

A honk directs my attention to the front gate. Uncle Adam's black Range Rover comes inside and I see Ira at the wheel, she waves at me.

I approach the car and greet them.

'All set ?' Uncle Adam inquires.

'Umm I think they are almost ready.' I say.

Ira heads inside saying she will bring Eliza out.

'Hello.' I hear Maaz's deep voice from behind his dad. I look up intending to respond but realize he is looking behind me. Dad walks up from behind me.

'Hello, looking just like you used to twenty years back !' He exclaims patting uncle Adam on the shoulder. He laughs at him.

'I will get our bags.' I say to no one in particular. I cross off things from my mental checklist double checking if I have missed anything. Absorbed in my thoughts I belatedly see Maaz walking in stride with me.

'Oh hey!' I say.

'Ah welcome,' I look up at him puzzled. 'Finally, you are back to earth.' He adds.

'Sorry, were you saying something ?' I'm embarrassed at being caught by him. It has been a while since I have been around people who are not members of my family. I have to keep in mind to not zone out often. The road trip already seems a lot to me. Two days away from home and hours on the road in the car.

'And you are gone again.' Once again Maaz breaks into my thoughts.

I look away embarrassed. The French windows are left wide open. Ziyan's bag is at last zipped. Eliza's slightly bigger bag is also ready. I pull up the handle of my tiny trolley and take it outside.
Ziyan brings his bag too and Maaz takes Eliza's.

'Do we have to take anything else ?' Maaz asks.

'Dad has taken his. Only mama's bag is left.' Ziyan replies.

'Do you have another bag ?' Maaz asks me, examining my tiny bag.

'No, this is all I need. You thought since I'm a girl I'd have an extra suitcase full of makeup?' sarcasm coats my tone.

Ziyan laughs, 'Zara isn't a girl, that will be Eliza. I'm sure she is packing up her suitcase of makeup right now.'

'I'm not a girl ?' I remark angrily.

'I mean you are not a girly girl, sis.' I glare at him.

The cars are at the gate with all our luggage set yet there is no sign of Eliza or Ira. I tap my fingers on the window of the car impatiently. They emerge after some time with a bag in hand.

'There it is.' Ziyan mock whispers. 'The suitcase full of makeup.'

We drive continuously for an hour. Uncle Adam, Maaz, Ira and Eliza in their Range Rover. Ziyan drives our car. I sit with mom in the rear seat.

Once the city has flashed by we are surrounded by arid desert on either side. Prickly shrubs dot the vast expanse of caramel colored sand. Silky smooth dunes loom over the plains. The dunes merge seamlessly into one another, some higher than the others.

'We will take a short break at the next rest stop.' Says dad.

After pumping in gas and getting coffees from Tim Hortons, Ziyan and dad exchange seats. I fall asleep looking out onto the continuous piles of sand.

A jerk wakes me up from sleep. We have come off the road. Dad maneuvers the car in the sand and Maaz follows behind. The car bumps again as we hit a dune.

Up ahead a sprawling sandstone structure materializes. Extensive, high walls encircle the fort now turned into a hotel. Massive turrets form cylindrical vantage points providing a view of whoever approaches. We pass underneath the carved archway. A carved welcome sign hangs on it.

The security guard checks our bookings and we are free to go inside.

We drive between two parallel lines of date palm trees. The hotel is visible distantly. The ancient structure has been preserved but modernities are added to make it suited to a hotel. We drive up to the reception where a valet takes over the car and we are guided inside to the reception.

At the center is a carved waterfall which originates from above, where four mermaids with flowing hair hold tilted pots from which water flows onto the rocks below. The water gently cascades down between the crevices of the rocks. Above the mermaids the entire roof is glass. Cottony, puffed, white clouds peek inside from the ceiling. Sunlight streams in glinting off the heads of the mermaids giving them an ethereal glow.

Music floats from a giant harp being played by a lady on a pedestal at a corner. This together with the gentle trickle of flowing water creates a wonderful sense of calm.

A calm that is broken as Eliza gasps, 'Woah this place is lit.'

Ira squeals in delight. They are at the other end of the hall looking outside the glass wall. Their voices are carried loudly across the muted hall. I walk down the carpeted floor to them.

Outside is the hotel swimming pool, curved in the shape of an eight. It is themed like an oasis and small shrubs surround the water. Artfully sculpted birds, which at first sight I had believed to be real, adorn the surrounding. A few people lounge on beach chairs.

'Zara!' Ziyan calls.

'Is it okay if we both share a room ?' He asks me. 'Because I think Eliza will room with Ira.'

Ira and Eliza join us. Maaz comes and hands them a card, 'Here is your room key. We are all on the same floor. Dad and I are in the room next to you. Only Ziyan's and Zara's room will be down the corridor.'

Dinner is at the restaurant down by the pool. Lebanese is the menu tonight. The smell of delicious grilled food infuses the air. A barbecue is going on at one end and the chef dishes out freshly grilled meat.

'This is wonderful.' Says Eliza gleefully beside me. A waiter shows us to a table in the open air.

I walk over to the salads section. The first is an assortment of pickled cucumbers, chilies and beet drizzled with herbs. I skip it preferring a Mediterranean salad with olives, cucumber and parsley topped with olive oil. Another hand reaches for the spoon before me.

'Go on.' Says a familiar voice. I see Maaz withdrawing his hand.

'No, you go ahead.' I reply moving my hand away.

He shakes his head in amusement. He helps himself then extends a heaping spoon towards my plate.

'May I ?'

'Sure. Thanks.'

After dinner, we head to an open lawn set up with a stage at the center. Chairs encircle the stage. Behind the chairs around the perimeter, soft, thick pillow like seats locally called as the Majlis are spread in a row on the grass. A canopy has been made over them, small kerosene lamps hang under the canopy giving out a faded yellow light.

Mom, dad and Uncle Adam seat themselves on the chairs while we choose to relax on the Majlis. Ziyan leans comfortably against the pillows beside me, Maaz on his other side. Eliza and Ira stretch out their legs leaning on each other, talking. A waiter walks up to us with a hot concoction, ghava in a flask and a plate of dates placing it on the tiny table in front of us.

The murmur of voices reduce as a man wearing an umbrella-like costume walks up on stage. The awaited Tanoura Dance performance. The audience is hushed as the upbeat music begins and the man begins to spin like a human top. He raises his costume up and he starts spinning the umbrella of his dress above his head and gradually brings it down to his waist. The audience gasp and cheer. Ziyan whistles loudly.

Another gasp as the lights are turned off leaving darkness behind. A flash and the dancer's dress lights up as he spins faster and faster. The audience clap enthusiastically.

After the performance, most people head back to their rooms. I slide down the pillows looking up at the sky tracing stars. It is a chilly cloudless night.

'Looking at the stars again?' Numair slides into the balcony where I stand. He stands beside me yet keeping his distance.

'I can't see many though. These skyscrapers block most of the sky.' I complain. Our apartment was on the tenth floor comparatively lower compared to the nineteen floors above us. The surrounding skyscrapers blocked most of the sky.

'They are distant.' He says gazing up in the same direction as me. I study the strong profile of his jaw from the side, the way his hair curls above his ear.

'Just like you from me these days.' I respond.

A shiver passes over me partly because of the memory and partly because the night has grown even more chilly with time.

'Here.' Maaz says handing me a blue hoodie, once again interrupting my reverie.

I realize it is the same that I have helped him buy the other day. I also notice Ziyan has slipped away, possibly to his room, leaving me beside Maaz. Ira and Eliza attempt to imitate the dancer on the now empty stage, giggling at each other's antics. Ira trips and falls in the middle of a pirouette and Eliza topples on top of her, laughing. Again I had zoned out in spite of myself.

'No thank you.' I refuse to take his jacket.

'I wasn't asking you, Zara. You are shivering. Take it.' He holds it out to me. I stay stubborn.

He straightens the jacket and takes out the sleeve.

He orders me, 'Put your hand in.'

His changed tone makes me obey him. After I put in both my hands he pulls the two sides close, fixes the zip and pulls it up cocooning me in warmth.

'That's better.' He says satisfied, moving away from me. I'm unable to reply, intoxicated by the smell of his jacket which now surrounds me, drowning me in it.

'Let us go back to the hotel.' He stands towering over me. I get to my feet and shuffle behind him. He stays silent on the walk back. Dim yellow lamps on either side of the paved stone pathway light the way. We reach his room first, he doesn't stop but keeps walking.

'Isn't this your room?' I ask.

'Yes, I have to drop you to your room.'

'No you don't, I can walk down the corridor by myself.' I retort.

'Zara, please.' I don't know what to make of his sudden gentleness now and the opposing indifference to me at other times. I follow him to my room. Ziyan must have fallen asleep by now I use my card to open the door.

'Good night.' He says.

'Night.'

I shut the door behind me and exhale. That was one long, tiring day. I'm fidgeting with the zip of his jacket which brings on the realization that I have forgotten to return it to him.

Ziyan is fast asleep. I pull the covers over him before settling down on my bed. I lay staring at the navy hoodie draped over the chair before sleep overpowers me.

***

A/N : Thank you for making this far !! I hope you like the story.
As always waiting eagerly for your comments, feedback and votes :)
Much love