"We knew there had been an accident-"

"Bomb-blast."

Hearing that everyone quieted down at the breakfast table. Even the munching of the crispy dosas wasn't audible.

Muhammad opened his mouth to say something but Khadija outran him by saying, "There must be a reason for them to keep the matter hidden."

Jesima nodded, "It was not my secret to tell."

"You are right," Shabna replied affirmatively, taking the freshly cooked Dosa with a spatula. She walked up to the breakfast table and placed it inside the open hot pack. Khadija, Muhammad, and Jesima sat at the table devouring the yummy south Indian breakfast.

"I will say the whole phase wasn't easy. Then again, when was life easy?" Jesima said, chewing her food. She had faced and seen so many hardships in life that now, she casually discusses them as if any leisure topic of discussion.

"Your every hardship will be replaced abundantly in the hereafter, Don't worry." Fathima wished wholeheartedly, walking inside the kitchen and hugging Jesima from behind.

"In shaa Allah!" Jesima gleamed, smilingly gazing at the intruder.

Saad who was lying on the couch couldn't try to fall asleep when the people around him were having serious discussions and eating mouthwatering food. He woke up and sat straight on the couch, his long fingers searching his specs on the coffee table.

After finding them, he breathed inside them and rubbed them clean with the end of his shirt. His hands then go to comb his hair, stifling up the yawn that threatened to come out.

Stretching his hands in the air, he got up and walked towards his room. Just before he opened it wide, he remembered his room was occupied that day.

He knocked twice on the door, not sure if Asma was awake or not. "Yeah! You can come in."

"Okay! Ma'am," He said, entering his room.

"Ma'am? Seriously?" Asma laughed.

"Why not?" Saad said, sitting on his study table. "Did you sleep well?"

Asma rolled her eyes and gently pulled the curtains to let the light enter the room, at once golden beams of sunlight pooled on the floor. "Yeah! I did. It took me 0.03 seconds to fall asleep."

"Must be the jet lag."

"Yes and it was almost early morning-"

"And you can't miss out on your beauty sleep," Saad pointed out jokingly.

"Of course!" Asma grinned, "What about you?" She asked, turning her wheelchair towards the door. "You slept on the couch?" She asked when she saw a spare bed sheet lying on it.

"Yup!"

"I am sorr-"

"Hey! It wasn't that bad. " Saad said, getting up.

"But still-" Asma couldn't finish her sentence though. He came at her back, pushing her wheelchair out of the room. "Let's take you to my mother's yummy breakfast."

"My hands aren't paralyzed, you know?" Asma chuckled at how she was treated like a baby.

"Bad one. You don't get to joke like that, Asma!" Saad warned, "Until you are here, I am your personal Chauffeur."

"Ai Ai Captain!"

Across the room, Asad saw the whole exchange, and his eyes trained over the duo. For reasons he wasn't aware of, his eyes never left the girl in the wheelchair.

The corridor was separated from the living room by a small stair and when Asma's wheelchair neared it, he got up from the couch. He helped Saad to bring the wheelchair down.

"The Princess is finally awake!" Asad commented, dusting his hands together.

"Morning!" Asma chirped, meeting his eyes with a small smile. "Now! Please leave me, I know my way." She addressed Saad and he raised his hands in the air as if giving up.

Smiling to herself, she moved around to the kitchen. Asad's gaze again trailed behind her.

He was not seeing her in the wheelchair for the first time. He had seen her beforehand. He knew about what transpired over her. When Samad came from Palestine, He had brought a bunch of photos with him.

Asma had been there.

Lively, chirpy, and full of life. Her wide grins did something to his heart the first time he saw her. He wasn't ready to accept someone like that. Someone with a disability. He didn't disrespect them but to him, being perfect was the only option in life.

Perfection is the key to ruling everything, he believed. He strived hard to be that perfect someone in his life. After seeing her and now, meeting her. The perceptions of his life were taking a new form of reality.

And whatever was happening inside of him then, he wasn't ready for it.

It made him jealous at how carefree she presented herself to the world, her courage was marveling his eyes and the shine only brightened with every meeting, as he took a seat back on the couch, trying to read the newspaper, he was only thinking of one thing.

In one day she could bring this much change in his thoughts, what would the result of her long stay do to him?

"Yo! Fireball of energy!" Muhammad gushed as he stood up, carrying his plate.

"No!" Asma groaned, "I am the laziest person alive on this earth."

"Can't disagree on that!" Jesima snickered.

"Mama!"

Asma wheeled herself to the center of the table, taking a plate, she served herself a Dosa and put some coconut chutney on her plate to go along with the dish. "My mother doesn't make these kinds of food."

"Well! Your mother is present right here," Jesima came near her, filling her cup with the masala tea.

"You just said you are the laziest person alive, then think of the person who birthed you." Fathima quipped, taking a seat beside Asma.

"That's mean, Fathima."

"Says the Sass Queen."

The bickering continued to transpire around them. Basking in the warmth of each other, their day began. Everyone was happy and the atmosphere was festive, Asma's next question put a pause to it.

"Mama! Today you will take me to our house na?" Asma asked in between her bites of eating her food.

Jesima who was cleaning the table stilled for a second. To be utterly honest, she didn't want to go there. She didn't want to walk back into a place where her dreams took a form of reality. A place that was designed, and built by someone who had her heart and soul and yet, was not present there. Not breathing. Not alive.

It pained her to think of how she had lived twenty years since then, yet remember the day she lost him as if it had happened yesterday. Going back and feeling him there would rip her already broken heart. She would wish to have him there and not having him would be traumatic to experience again.

Being away in a new place was nice. Creating a home there with the people who were with her was good too. Can she do it sometime later? Can she bask some more in distraction than opening a page that will only hurt, give her immense sorrow, and nothing more?

"Your house?" Fathima asked when Jesima was still processing what to reply.

"Yes! My Father's house," Asma nodded, swallowing the pain that crushed her along with the food. Her pain was entirely different from Jesima. Jesima had lived with Aashiq and together they had birthed her. But she was born in a world where her father had a demise.

Fathima gave her a short nod. She could feel the tension in the air almost as if it pricked her skin. She started to think of ways to calm it down and in doing so, her eyes landed on Saad who came to the breakfast table to join in. "Can you not do it some other day?"

Asma's face remained the same, not giving in. She wanted to go there and feel him, it had been her dream to do so.

"Please? You are yet to meet my daughter and son."

"Kulsoom is coming today?" Saad inquired and the slight shiver in his voice didn't get missed by Asma.

"She will!" Fathima nodded unaware of the slight rise of pinkness on Saad's cheeks.

When Asma kept looking at him, he felt self-conscious. He raised his eyes at her, pushing his glasses. She shook her head in a no and looked away as if dismissing it.

"Okay! I will go some other day," She declared.

For that day, there were more pressing matters. Interesting at that one.

*Clears throat* Ahem...

What do you all think??????