Dreams and Loneliness

Sometimes even the crowds start to haunt you. You feel your pain grow profound as the crowds suffocate you with their worldly choices. The terrifying judgment in the world's eyes, the constant feeling of being secretly criticized and compared with the ones who have hurt you, is heavy. But instead of getting caught in this drift, one should focus only on all earning the praises of our Almighty. Nothing else should matter. 

Everyone is so busy displaying themselves as the happiest ones in the world that they forget that their bragging can really hurt another. In attempting to get ahead, we are often pushing others down-breaking them. 

The constant comparisons, the critique...the comparisons were hefty for me. I wanted to stay strong, but so many were hurting my feeling. Though, I was also adamant about being patient, knowing that this didn't matter. This world was temporary. People could flaunt their happiness, brag about their achievements and crush wounded hearts, it didn’t matter. The focus should be on our eternal life. 

Now standing next to an exuberant Sarah, I watched as people congratulated her. She was the first girl in our family who had been a good student. She had made her father so proud, and because, I was near her age, her strengths were being compared with mine. People asked about my plans for the future, too. But, I had none. 

This small family gathering was supposed to celebrate Sarah’s scholarship. Yet, there were some asking about my plans for the future. I didn't know how to confess that I was a victim of bullying and had seen the hurt ruin my grades.  Soon, after feeling extremely awkward for standing idly, I decided to head towards the vacant chairs that had been pushed at the very back of the room and sit on one of them.

Our relatives were gathered at my mama’s bakery. This was a huge moment in Sarah’s life. She was going to move away soon.

A part of me was so happy that Sarah had got a chance to start a new chapter in life; something to make her grow less bitter, I was actually praying the best for her, but there was a part of me who was reminiscing the good old times. To see someone so broken move on towards their happy ending is a bittersweet moment.

"You okay?" A small voice now made me turn my head and look at a small girl, around the age of four, sitting next to me. She seemed to be eyeing me with curiosity. I smiled at her adorable manner.

"Of course, what is your name?" I smiled, sitting up straight. 

The girl shyly answered, "S-Sara," she spoke with a slight lisp. I don't know whose daughter this girl was, but her name had me smile in a sad manner.

We all once had such tender hearts. It was painful to see how different we all grew with age. Some of us chose the black paths, while some were wise enough to choose the white one. But despite all, all of us did experience tender hearts. It was just too tragic how our decisions changed our personality.

 My cousin 'Sarah' had decided to put up a façade, lash out instead of being patient and strong. What about this 'Sara'? What would her future hold for her? Would this innocent child also turn towards the wrong path with age? I had no clues, but for some reason, I deeply prayed for this girl to turn out to be a good Muslim. 

"It's a wonderful name," I moved my gaze at her face. The little girl had turned shy and immediately pulled away from me. "What is your name?" She asked, making me pinch her cheek.

"Mehreen," I spoke. She nodded and rushed away from me. There were a bunch of children running around in the crowd. The girl started running after one of them.

 Looking around, I wondered whether Sarah's attitude towards me after going to London. Would all the happiness finally weaken the broken façade she had put up? I didn't know. But I was sure that after completing her studies, she was going to be back. I hope we could manage to be friends again. 

Soon the food was served and I turned towards the tinted glasses, eyeing outside at the huge limousine that was parked under the bright moonlight. Sarah’s father had booked a limousine to take us all on a tour of the city. It was a wastage of money. So many people getting consumed in this material world. 

"Excuse me," a lady, sitting on the chair next to me, tapped my shoulder.

"Yes?" I politely turned around to look at her. It felt awkward sitting on the floor, right next to her.

"You are Sarah’s cousin?" She asked with intrigue. I had no ideas who she was.

"Yes," I nodded, making her suddenly grow extra soft and sweet.

"Oh, you must be so proud. She is so brilliant." She praised. I smiled in a bitter manner.

"Yes, she is." I meekly mused. 

"Oh, you have already started missing your cousin?" She asked, eyeing my expressions.

"I have been missing her for a very long time," I answered. This was the truth. I had been missing her for a long time.

Soon, after everyone enjoyed dinner, a sudden sense of loneliness spread as Grandma slowly got up and sat next to Sarah. Patting her granddaughter's head, she handed her a box of chocolates and some money. Mama, upon eyeing me sitting alone in one corner, pointedly gestured to go and stand next to Sarah. I had to be there for the family.

Nodding, I got up and stood a few steps away from Nadia-one of my biggest tormentor. Currently, my pink diary could support that accusation. Quietly looking around, while feeling slightly overwhelmed by the noise and the crowd, I watched as Sarah talked to the circle of her friends. She was opening ignoring me. Our eyes met, and I nervously smiled, but she simply looked away.

It was understandable. We didn't talk; we weren't friends, but that notions still hurt and embarrassed me.

I was not welcomed here.

***

With his hands wrapped around the cold railing, Fahad watched bright moonlight shining down on the Crystal Lake. Seldom people were walking around him, and he frowned as a small boy rushed beside him and grabbed the railing with excitement. The cold breeze was conveniently ignored by this boy who was wearing a huge cotton cap and red mittens to keep him warm and seemed to be slightly jumping with joy.

Tightening his grip around the railing, Fahad then turned his focus back on the water and watched as it glittered and swayed.

"Papa, hurry up!" The little boy seemed to be calling out to someone behind him, but Fahad paid him no attention because the clock stuck had finally struck seven o'clock and the fountain show had begun.

Staring with a gleam in his eyes, he ignored the small drops of water that had started splashing against his face and watched with a mesmerized expression.

He had decided to change his routine, for a day, and walked to see the fountain show. The bright lights, the gleaming of the moon reminded of his childhood.