I will be waiting here.
For your silence to break.
For your soul to shake.
For your love to wake.
-Rumi
________________________________

'She's vanished without a trace?'  Ziyan questions me. He is seated across with his legs folded under him, a jumbo size pack of chips in his hand. He had stopped munching on them once I revealed about Lisa's adoption. It had been an hour since I got home and narrated the whole story.

'Why is Aylin being rude? She used to be fine before.' Eliza quips.

My siblings though they don't volunteer, are familiar with Smile and all its residents owing to me. Each day after I got home I used to gush about the ongoings at Smile. Over dinner, I would narrate hilarious incidents of the kids or share their milestones with my family.

'They don't understand, you have been volunteering since you were sixteen. It's like you grew up with them.' Eliza wails.

'Adoptions are recorded?' Ziyan asks.

'Obviously, they have to be.' Eliza rolls her eyes.

'They have an archive?' He asks again.

'I think I saw a shelving cabinet in Amaro's office.' I recollect his room.

'Great!' Ziyan says gleefully causing Eliza and I to look at him suspiciously.

'I don't see the greatness?' Eliza arches her eyebrows.

'Only great people can see the greatness in others.' Ziyan says childishly. Eliza throws a cushion at him.

'My dear sisters, we are going to break in.'

My eyes widen, 'No way, don't you remember how we were almost hauled to the police station for breaking in?' I ask.

'And I was the one who saved your asses. You don't have to, I'll go. No one there recognizes me or knows I'm related to you.'

'It's going to be easy, perhaps I can ask Arhaan for help. He can distract the night guard. Amaro wouldn't be inside the office that late, leaving me free to enter.' He says. I put my head into my hands, my mind conjuring up numerous ways how this plan could go awry.

'Does Aylin stay at Smile?' His eyes are alight as he plans things. I can see him choose then discard ideas as he sits up then slumps back down again.

'Yes, she has a room near the dormitory where she sleeps. She wouldn't be at the reception at night.' I answer.

'What are you three whispering for?' Mama's sharp voice breaks into our discussion.

I twist my fingers tugging at them as I gape at mama. 'Uh... mama we...' I have never been good with lies.

'Nothing, mama. Sibling stuff.' Ziyan grins at her very innocently. He clasps his hands together and rests his chin on them, blinking at her. She seems to buy his act like she always does and I roll my eyes.

'Eliza you haven't cleared your stack of heels from the front door. I do not want my guests tripping over them.' Mama turns her attention to my little sister.

Eliza clasps her hands and rests her chin on them imitating Ziyan. She blinks at mama and says with a grin, 'Tomorrow?'

'No, right this minute. Off you go.' Mama says sternly. She pouts, flicks her long black, hair and walks out glaring at Ziyan.

She stops at the door and turns around looking straight at me, 'Do you think she loves us lesser because there are two of us?' She wonders aloud.

'Absolutely. I'm unique.' Ziyan answers. Mama's stern gaze falls on Ziyan and Eliza scurries away before it turns to her.

'Have you finished packing?' I turn to Mama.

'You know your dad. He's all ready and waiting to go.'

'Dad has been bouncing around the place in pure joy.' Ziyan adds.

I smile glad to hear of his well-being. His health has improved a lot over the past months. He seems lighter, happier and satisfied with life. At least some good came out of this marriage.

'Do you want me to drop you to the airport tomorrow?' I ask.

'I'm driving them. You can come with us.' Ziyan answers.

'But don't you... ' I'm interrupted by the ringing of my phone. A number lights up on the screen. I wonder who it is. Nonetheless, I receive it and walk outside to talk.

'Zara?' I recognize Arhaan's voice, it is a little breathless.

'Maaz has met with an accident. You may want to come right away.' He gushes. Deafening silence befalls, my mind is blank unable to conjure a response. This cannot be happening again. Why? Oh why? The last time I had received a similar call it had ended with me being widowed.

'Which hospital?' My voice wavers. Last time there wasn't an opportunity to drive him to the hospital. I shudder, my hand grips the phone tightly listening intently.

It is hard to not draw parallels when life keeps throwing the same messed up scenarios at you. It might seem things get easier once you have been through it. The truth is it gets harder because when you have been through it you know how deeply it would hurt, you know how it isn't going to pass like you hope, you know and have been through all consequences. Knowing makes it worse. 

The first time you walk in blindly, you do not know the extent of the consequences that you will have to face, and in a way, the lack of knowledge makes it easier. Or easier than the second time at least.

I hear muffled noises and I imagine Maaz whisper. After another prolonged wait which seems stretched.

'Um... We are at home.' Arhaan answers.

'Home?' I repeat dumbstruck. 'You mean he isn't hurt?' I sigh in relief breathing out heavily. Why does my mind have to go into negative overdrive?

Another pause, 'He is.'

'What are you getting at? If he's hurt then why he isn't at the hospital?' I snap at Arhaan unable to understand.

'Maaz didn't want to. Come soon. He needs you here. And we are losing time.' He sounds anxious.

'Is this some ploy to get me there?' I say.

'Why are you this stubborn? How can you be so cold to him when all he does is adore you.' Arhaan snaps and shuts the call leaving me dumbfounded.

'I've got to run.' I inform mama and leave before she begins to question my haste.

I race through the streets another hundred thoughts running amok. None positive. I barely keep track of the changing lights, driving on autopilot.

My fingers are wet and the keys slip from my hands. The door opens from inside revealing Arhaan.

'Thank god you are here.' He says. I don't respond to him. I'm looking over his shoulder for Maaz. I find him hunched near the couch, sitting on the armrest.

He winces as he looks at me, relief spreading across his face. He seems pale, almost anemic.

'His back.' Arhaan says closing the door behind me.

My lips part, a strangled gasp escapes and I'm at a loss of words. Embedded in his shirt, piercing his skin are tiny shards of glass. Some stick to his shirt while others penetrate his skin, making blood ooze out. His sliced shirt makes it hard to see the damage to his back. I almost don't want to see it.

I fall to my knees before him, gently taking his hand in mine. I'm afraid a mere touch would hurt him.

'What did you do?' I whisper.

'He thought it would be grand if he could sparkle when he walked into the sun.' Says Arhaan. He sounds irritated with me.

I don't fail to catch the look Maaz gives him.

'Let's go to a hospital, why are you here?' I ask trying to make him stand without hurting his back. It was impossible. 

'No' Maaz's voice is firm shocking me.

'Maaz that's a lot of blood oozing, you...'

'You can.' He says curtly.

'Me?'

'Yes, you could help me out.'

'This is insane. I don't have any instruments or or....'

'We are not going to a hospital. Can you or can you not?' His voice is sharp. He winces with pain as he finally stands and blood soaks his shirt at the movement.

'Okay.' I concede. His shirt is wet with blood, I don't have time to argue with him.

His tone leaves no space for argument. He would not go and I cannot stand and watch him bleed.

I dig into my wardrobe and retrieve my doctor's kit. I inspect all the tools that I have to make do with. Pulling out an old prescription paper I write down a few things I may need.

'Bandages, cotton, alcohol...' Arhaan stands at the door looking at me.

'Can you administer him an anesthetic?' He asks, chewing on his fingernails.

'Perhaps a local one will suffice.' I mumble. I scratch down another drug name.

'You make no sense but I'll hope you know what you are doing.' He replies.

'Make him lie on the kitchen counter. The lighting there is brightest.' I order.

After adding a few more drugs I enter the kitchen, Arhaan has adjusted Maaz on his stomach on the counter. I hand the paper to him. 'Get all these.' He doesn't wait another second.

I lay my hand on Maaz's head running my fingers through his hair, 'I am going to cut open your shirt, then clean your wounds. It won't hurt much.' I assure him.

My fingers tremble as I hold the scissors and begin to cut open his shirt.

'Somehow this wasn't the situation in which I imagined you ripping my shirt open.' I hear the pain in his voice, as he takes in a ragged breath trying to make light of the situation.

I'm unable to speak as his massacred, bare back lies before me. Tiny pieces of glass dipped into his skin coated with blood, glint and shine. Gently I begin to remove the dried blood to asses the damage.

Arhaan returns with a small bag placing it on the stool. He looks grimly at Maaz's back and his lips part open, eyes widen but he doesn't emit a sound only looks at me wildly.

'Boil water, sterilize these things with alcohol.' I put him to work.

Once majority of the blood is cleared I can see where the wounds are deep. Fresh blood trickles from the wounds.

I bend down to look at Maaz, I catch his storming blue eyes, 'I'm going to pull out the glass. It is going to hurt.' I don't sugarcoat.

'How many?' He grits out. His hands clutch the marble tightly making his veins stand out.

'Five are deep, the rest are shallow.'

'You need to relax. Don't strain your back, please. It will hurt more.' I place my hand over his bare shoulder. Slowly I run my hand across his cold shoulders feeling him relax under my hand.

'Arhaan, hold his arms. Make sure he doesn't move.' I let him take over my place as I move to the side. Picking up the tweezers I pray that this works out.

I place my fingers near the biggest shard. Maaz strains under my touch, 'Shh... Relax. Take a deep breath.' My voice is low, the voice I used with my patients.

Arhaan tightens his grip on Maaz, I grab the piece of glass and pull. My heart wrenches as Maaz stiffens and lets out a groan. Blood pounds inside my ears but my hands stay still tugging at the shard until it comes out and falls to the floor with a clunk. Quickly I wipe the blood.

'One down.' Maaz relaxes on the counter.

I pause after removing three of the biggest shards allowing Maaz to breathe.

'Only two more.' I say softly. Maaz is still, his eyes shut tight, he lets out a small breath in response.

As a doctor, I'd seen a lot of blood and grisly wounds but when it is your family under your hands the wounds seem engraved on my own body, the blood flowing seems like my own, each moan of pain pierces straight through my heart.

***

Vote. Share.

Love.