Puranay Rastay ✓

chapter ‣ 4b

Contrary to what I had thought, I didn't faint.

I hadn't even hurt myself that much. My arm was scratched, my abaya torn from the elbows, but I was okay. The blood I had seen running down my face had been Khaled's, who had cushioned my fall and then tried to check on me.

That being said, I was as good as asleep because I cannot recall what happened between the accident and us ending up at the hospital. I have flashes of an ambulance in the distance, a crowd surrounding us, and then me holding on to Khaled's hand as he passed out.

He kept apologizing even in his dazed state. I wasn't sure if he was apologizing to me for getting us into an accident, or if he was apologizing to Allah for his past sins as he mistook his concussion as an early death. I assured him through whispers that he was alive, that I was with him, yet he kept chanting.

His hand tightened over mine in the ambulance, as if he wanted to make sure I was with him. For a moment he held it too tight, making me question whether it was okay to slap him, but I decided against it because he had potentially saved my life.

The slap I wanted to deliver to him for hurting me came later, but not from me, but from Phopo, who rushed to the hospital with Papa.

"Why weren't you careful?" She yelled at him as he touched his freshly smacked cheek. "You know she's getting married in three days. What if she got seriously hurt?"

"Khadija," my father warned her, pulling her back from Khaled's hospital bed. "Both of them are fine, so calm down."

"I'm so sorry Farook bhai," she started apologizing, her tone going from angry to upset.

"You said it the entire way here, stop already." He embraced her, calming her as tears started to stream down her cheeks.

"This naalaik aulad is always disappointing me," she continued through her tears. (useless child???)

I stood to one side, feeling extremely embarrassed for my cousin. Phopo who was usually very rational had dismissed all of Khaled's efforts with one sentence.

"Phopo, I'm okay," I assured, stepping forward to hug her. My father walked over to Khaled as I comforted my aunt.

"Don't go alone together next time," my father announced to both of us. "Both of you have a knack for ending up in trouble on your own, I can't imagine what troubles you'll bring together," he joked, trying to lift the mood. I smiled despite my father's underlying warning. He clearly disapproved of my decision to not wait for him to go to the university.

"I'm going to offer two nawafil," Phopo announced, disappearing out of the room.

The way she stormed out with her head down, I could tell she was going to cry hard in the restroom. I wanted to chase after her, but the nurse who had been with us minutes ago had instructed me to wait for her to come back and check on my bandages.

Despite being checked all over, the blood smeared on my face when I had entered the hospital had alarmed the doctors and nurses, who were checking on me after every fifteen minutes to see if I was feeling okay.

I peeked into the envelope containing my college transcript for the umpteenth time, making sure it was free of any blood stains. Most of my belongings were okay, as well as the bike. In fact the only damage done was to Khaled, who seemed to be going through more than physical pain.

There was a sadness on his face which I didn't recognize. Khaled was an enigma to begin with, it was difficult for even Phopo to understand him sometimes, yet over the years I had learnt to associate his habits with his emotions.