Before Time (The Time Trilogy Book 1) (3 page)

The next day was busier than the day before, because it was the real function. More guests arrived from Lahore, and our house was packed to the seams. I had been accommodating all the guests, as well as looking after Aliza and doing errands for Mom. The day passed quickly, and it wasn’t long before we were supposed to get ready for the evening. Aliza went to the parlor to get ready with Sana.

“Maheen, I’m not going. Look at the guests. Everyone’s, like, asking me to get them this or that.”

“You go! I’ll handle that,” she said, pushing me towards the door.

“But you just got back from the hotel,” I said. Maheen had spent all her day at the hotel hall, so that she had it decorated according to how Aliza wanted. She had just returned home, and I wanted her to rest.

“I’ll be fine. Vaneeza will be home in five minutes, don’t worry,” she said. Vaneeza was our eldest sister.

“Okay, I won’t take long, I promise,” I said, rushing outside. I had to get my hair done, and we were running out of time. I reached the hair parlor in ten minutes, and spent the next hour getting my hair poked, ironed, and burnt. Once I had the elaborate curls I wanted, I rushed home. I’d been getting so many calls from Dad to hurry up.

I came home to an empty house. All the guests had already gone to the wedding venue. Maheen pulled me inside and pushed me into Aliza’s room.

“Get ready! Quick! Don’t let dad see you in these clothes. He’s angry because we’re late.”

“Tell him to go ahead and we will catch up,” I said.

“I did,” she said, closing the door behind me. I quickly went to her wardrobe and changed into my white and gold dress.

I was ready twenty minutes later.

Maheen was ready and waiting for me. Thank God, Mom had taken her little angel with her. We quickly reached the venue but we were late. The groom had already arrived. I missed the reception ceremony. I had been looking forward to throwing rose petals on him when he came.

The wedding went smoothly. I went in to see Aliza, and she screamed excitedly when she saw me.

“OMG! Onaiza! Is that really you? You look so different!” she said.

I smiled shyly at her. “It’s the makeup, that’s all.”

“You look beautiful,” she said. I grinned at her.

After that, it was time to take her to the hall, because she was in a room, waiting to go downstairs. She walked downstairs, one hand in my father’s hand and one in my brother’s, while we followed the procession. Soon she was sitting on the stage, ready to be ogled at. I grimaced at that and went in search of Sarah, who’d been waiting for me.

Then the ceremony started and the religious scholar was summoned for her Nikkah. It was boring, but I stayed with her all through it. The ceremony ended before I knew it. I was looking forward to going home and my bed.

Finally, I was free of the wedding and the guests had returned. I logged in to mIRC.

Impassioned:
You weren’t around.

ME:
Yes, I had a family wedding and was busy there.

Impassioned:
Did you enjoy it?

ME:
Well, yes. If it wasn’t my sister’s wedding, I would’ve been bored. I hate weddings; they are so overrated.

Impassioned:
Well, traditional weddings are boring.

ME:
I just don’t like it.

Impassioned:
One day, you will start enjoying weddings, and then I will ask you how you feel. Marriage is a very important part of life.

ME:
What would you know about marriage when you’ve never been a part of one? I will ask you when you’ve been through it!

Impassioned: :)

Chapter 3

I opened my eyes at the sound of my own name being called repeatedly.

“Onaiza!” I blinked and turned on my side. My maid stood near the door, waiting for me to wake up.

“Yes! I’m awake now.”

“Your mother has bid me to wake you up and ask you to come upstairs,” she said.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

My father had retired from a prestigious post from the government some years back. Due to his income and social status, one of the perks that were allotted to us was that we could easily hire servants. Therefore, we had one maid who helped mom with housework and a driver, because none of us except Aliza could drive. A glance at the clock on the wall told me it was 12 p.m.
So early!
I whined to myself. I was accustomed to sleeping late at night and waking up in the afternoon. I slid out of the bed lazily and dragged myself towards the washroom.

After I had brushed my teeth and washed my face, I was wide awake. I wrapped a shawl around me because of the cold weather and trudged up. Mom was already waiting for me. She looked cute as ever, all rosy-cheeked from standing in front of the stove for long hours, and her eyes shone. I loved my mom and the way she looked now, I had to suppress my urge to run ahead and pull her cheeks like she sometimes did with mine.

“Good morning, Mom! What’s for breakfast?” I asked.

“Cereal.” I poured some cereal in a bowl, following it with milk and sugar, and sat down at the table in the kitchen to finish my breakfast.

“Onaiza!” My mom said, coming to sit down on the chair beside me. I looked at her.

“I received a call from Islamabad Medical and Dental Center. They have called you for an interview there tomorrow, but they are offering admission in a BDS, not MBBS. Why don’t you go for the interview, though?”

“Mom, you know that I don’t want to do dentistry. I always dreamed of becoming a full-fledged medical doctor, perhaps an obstetrician or a gynecologist. Lately, I have been thinking maybe medicine is not for me. I’ve been trying for almost a year and a half, Mom, I think it’s time to let go.”

“Wouldn’t you give it a chance for one last time?”

“Okay, Mom! If you say so, I’ll go to the interview, but I don’t think I’ll make it out alive.”

“Have faith in yourself, Onaiza. You will succeed.”

“Maybe” I said, and took another bite of my cereal.

I looked at her as she returned to the stove. My mom had always been pretty, but today she looked prettier, perhaps because she was happy. She was beautiful with well sculptured features, a round face, the same brown eyes I had, but her hair was as black as midnight. My face was more oval, so Mom called me “egg” out of love. I always wanted to be like her; strong, confident, and tough, but at the same time, sweet, soft-spoken, and obedient.

I knew I could never be like her because I had a wild streak which seemed to have come from no one. I had inherited my love for reading and writing from her, but perhaps I had inherited my stubbornness from my father.

As much as I didn’t want to go for the interview, I had promised to go there for my mom’s sake. It was her dream to see me in a doctor’s scrubs and stethoscope hanging from my neck. I wanted to fulfill her dreams, but the last year and a half had reduced my confidence that I would ever be able to do it. It cut my heart that I couldn’t give my mom something she wanted after all she had done for me. But, as I said, nobody can question fate, and I believed that there was something else out there that I was supposed to do.

It was actually Aliza who was aiming to become a doctor, but unfortunately, she couldn’t get into medical school. She had chosen a completely different profession. Since childhood, I’d listened to mom talking about wanting one of her daughters to be a doctor, while my dad wanted one of us to become an engineer. Either way, I had no choice, because none of my elder sisters were either a doctor or engineer. Both of my parents’ hopes were bound on me. I wanted only to do something that would last past my own death.

After finishing my breakfast, I washed my bowl and placed it back on the rack. I headed out of the kitchen in search of my MCAT book, a preparatory book for the medical school entry tests and interviews. I took it to my room and sat down to study.

My preparation for the interview was complete, and I was quite tired. I just wanted to skip this dejected feeling that I was having about tomorrow. I knew I wouldn’t make it. Then why was I preparing myself? I knew the answer. I decided to divert my attention from tomorrow. I went ahead and logged in on mIRC.

Bad-Boy:
Welcome back!

ME:
Thank you!
:)

Bad-Boy:
What have you been up to?

ME:
Studying.

Impassioned:
Welcome!

ME
: Thanks
:)

We were all chatting on the main stream of the channel. Anyone could write any kind of message there, but the operators had rights to ban them.

Bad-Boy: You are so boring.

ME:
Why don’t you find someone your own age to play with?

Bad-Boy: Aren’t you my age?

ME:
No, I’m not.

Impassioned:
:)

Bad-Boy: What’s your age?

ME:
Are you out of your mind? What makes you think I am going to tell you that?

Bad-Boy: You’ve got a tongue on you, don’t you?

ME:
Shut up!

Bad-Boy: Nice.

Impassioned:
It’s nice to ignore people once in a while.

ME:
Right you are, Impassioned.

Bad-Boy: Hahahaha!

I ignored him and turned to another channel, where another topic was in discussion on the main channel stream. I was bored of all the channels, so I messaged Impassioned.

What’s your age?
I asked him on the channel main.

Wasn’t it weird that we have been talking from some days now, but I didn’t know the answers to these simple questions? But then, these kinds of questions had never attracted me. What’s your name? What do you do? These are such basic, ancient questions in the internet chatting world that they sometimes irritated me, and I wanted to throw something at the other person’s head every time they came up. Why would one ask such questions at a place where people come to stay anonymous and pass some time? But that day, I asked that question myself.

Impassioned:
Age matters?

ME:
Not really, but intellect matters. You can tell me...

I let the statement hang in the air.

Impassioned:
I turned 26 in September.

ME:
Oh! Nice
.
Happy belated Birthday!