woh hamsafar tha magar us sey humnawai na thi
Chapter 43 of Hold On: F9 Park, Islamabad March 2020
(N.B. I’m writing a novel, a chapter a week, here on Medium. Find out why I write here, start from Chapter 1 here, and always feel free to give me feedback in the comments. I write here for the community.)
Life is a journey filled with unexpected twists and turns, a fact that becomes ever more apparent as we grow, and go through a complex web of experiences.
Hira’s career trajectory had been one of upward mobility, the likes of which she couldn’t have predicted when she was a mere child with big dreams. Today, her career prospects are on the rise and she is at a level of financial stability that no one else in her family had achieved. Today, as she bore the expenses of her family back in Peshawar, she thought of her father who had spent his prime years living in under constant stress. She felt a mix of emotions that combined her past and present feelings: her heart ached to think that there was no one her father could count on, back when he had to cater to the growing needs of his family. The toll that stress took on his health was something no one could quantify. Yet, here stood, easing his burden to a great degree. This thought alone made her entire struggle worth it.
Hira had carved out a life for herself that met her desires and aspirations. She was thriving in all avenues of life, spending time with her friends and extending emotional support to loved ones. It was impossible for her to turn someone away when they were in need, even if it came at the expense of her own peace of mind. In this haze of activity and routine, Hira felt herself consumed by the loss that had cast a shadow over her life- the passing of her mother. In her grief, she found solace in prayer and giving charity regularly, hoping her actions would benefit Nosheen in the afterlife.
Meanwhile, at the office, COVID-19 had become a daily topic of discussion, transformed from a rumour to a looming threat. It was during one such COVID-tinged evening that Hira and Sarmad found themselves at Café Behbud in F6 Markaz, a stone’s throw from Sarmad’s house. Although the location was pleasant enough, Hira failed to understand why Sarmad gravitated to this particular spot, “The food isn’t even that good. Plus, it’s so quiet here all the time. I don’t understand what you see in this place.”
Sarmad, who seemed completely in his element, laughed as he playfully swept his unruly curls off his forehead. “This is precisely why I come here, Hira. It’s quiet, peaceful, and offers the best combination of pakoras and chai.”
Suddenly, he sobered up as he leaned across the table and said in a low voice, “ My father told me that the first case of COVID-19 has been reported in Pakistan,” Sarmad continued, “Let’s see how the situation develops.”
“Lately, every report I’ve read has said the same thing: that this disease is extremely contagious. The Chinese government has started these things called lockdowns, where no one can get in or out of a specific area. They’ve also established quarantine centers for people who are at risk of having caught the disease. The U.S. and other European countries are following suit.” Then, with a shudder, Sarmad said, “I’m just worried about what will happen if it gets worse, and if it spreads in Pakistan. God knows we don’t have the resources to deal with something like this.”
Hira replied in a similar low tone, “It’s terrifying. I was talking about it with my father the other day. They’re saying it’s so contagious, that people will have to stop any physical interaction altogether. No shaking hands or anything. And if you come close to someone who has the disease, even if it’s in your own household, you’ll have to quarantine because chances of getting infected are that high”. She continued, “They’re saying it’s much worse for old people, or those with underlying illnesses. They often have to be put on the ventilator when their condition worsens, and we both know that with our population, there aren’t nearly enough ventilators to go around”.
“What makes things worse is that the government doesn’t seem to have a plan. It’s like we’re waiting for the storm to hit, without preparing for it. I mean, we haven’t even stopped international flights!”
To ward off the building melancholy regarding a situation they could not control, Hira turned to Sarmad and asked him about how therapy was going, “How helpful is the medication?”, she asked with concern.
“I’m doing better, but something can trigger me and then it gets really hard not to just dive back in. I don’t know how long I can keep avoiding it, but regardless, I’m so thankful for you for your support.” The words of gratitude and admiration flowed freely from Sarmad, boosting Hira’s ego, though she was quick to be humble.
“Oh come on now, I’m not doing you a favour. You’re going to therapy and recovering on your own. I’m just glad I could be there for you along the way.”
They talked until it was late. Hira turned around to see that they were the only ones left at Café Behbud; glancing at her watch, she saw that it was 11 pm. “Uh oh, I should get going. It’s the weekend and Ahmad and I are supposed to call at 12. I’ll see you tomorrow, Sarmad.”
Basking in the glow of Sarmad’s generous admiration for her, Hira made her way to her apartment singing, “aaj lagta hai main hawa main hoon….aaj itni khushi mili hai…”
Changing into her night suit, Hira bided the time by scrolling through her social media. On Instagram, she saw an endearing photo of Sadia’s daughter, who was now a few months old. Her adorable coos and cries had been a background soundtrack to her conversations with Sadia, forging an affectionate bond that transcended the distance between them. Hira responded to the post with an adoring message filled with well-wishes, a reflection of her genuine joy for her friend’s growing family.
A WhatsApp notification lit up her screen. It was Shafiq, saying he wanted Hira to meet Mahnoor, a class fellow of his with whom he was interested in pursuing a formal relationship. His vulnerability shone through his words, a reminder of the trust they shared. Shafiq was too shy to discuss it on call, so he sent her a detailed message, saying “I can’t talk about this on call, but I would like for you to meet her before we take things further. Then you can talk to Abba; you know how much your opinion matters to him”.
Hira responded with eagerness, “I’m so happy for you Shafiq. Let’s talk about it tomorrow on call, there’s no need to be shy. We’ll arrange something the next time I’m in Peshawar, or if Islamabad is a more convenient location for her, we can meet here as well”.
Their warm conversation was coming to an end, when Ahmad called. Immediately, Hira could register that something was out of place.
In a feeble voice, he said to her, “Hira, I haven’t had the courage to call you.” These words sent her mind into overdrive. Her worst fears were coming to the surface, but Hira kept composed. “Stay calm, stay calm. He needs you, you can’t lose your cool”. Instinctively, she prioritized Ahmad over herself and her feelings.
“You know you can always talk to me. What’s happened?”
“Hira.. our investor has pulled the plug. COVID-19 has made the market unstable, and he’s trying to recoup whatever he can. Plus there’s another stealth startup on the horizon that has launched the same product we were developing. We were too late Hira.” His voice was shaking as he said, “I don’t know what to do now. I gave everything to this startup, all my money and savings. I’m completely wiped out Hira.”
Hira’s heart was racing. This shock was not the one she had expected. “Ahmad, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this, but please understand that it’s not your fault. This is how the market works, and besides, COVID-19 is completely beyond your control. Remember that you’re talented, and with your skills and experience, you can go anywhere and do anything. These setbacks are a part of life, it doesn’t mean that you’re a failure”.
“You’re right. I know, but.. there’s something else I need to tell you. Hira, I can’t come back to Pakistan just yet, not after this. I need to stay and work on another startup. I can’t move back because there’s just no funding. If I want this to work I have to stay in the US. And this time I’ll work on the idea you shared, the early detection of wildfire with computer visions.”
Hira was no longer listening. Her mind was reeling at his announcement that he would remain in the US. The announcement he had made with complete confidence, disregarding the promise he had made to her; the promise that had kept her going through the last couple of years. She was stunned into silence, and eventually, there was a pause in Ahmad’s monologue.
The desperation in his voice was apparent as he said, “Hira, please. Please, could you consider moving with me to San Francisco? I wanted to ask you this in person, but international flights have been disrupted because of this whole COVID-19 situation. I promise we can come back frequently to Pakistan, whenever you want, but our base needs to be in the US at least for a little while.”
Finally, with rage overtaking her, Hira spoke, “Ahmad, what are you even saying? We’ve talked about this for years! You were supposed to come back and that was it. I’ve hung on to this promise for years, how can you just betray me like this?”
“Hira, please. Come on, I’m not betraying you. I could never think of betraying you. I love you and I have been waiting to get married and living together. These things are just beyond my control. The situation has changed, Hira. I can’t live in Pakistan if I want to work on innovative startups and ideas.”
“To hell with your startups Ahmad! I don’t care! From day one, everything has revolved around your dreams, your plans, your ambitions. I stood by you through everything. And this is your response? Tell me the truth, is this about Lizzie? Do you have feelings for her? Is that why you’re so desperate to stay in America? Tell me the truth for once!”
“What? What nonsense is this Hira? Lizzy already has a boyfriend, why would I be after her when I’m in love with you? What have you been thinking about me all this time?” Now it was Ahmad’s turn to bring up his hurt, “I’m noticing your behaviour has changed ever since this Sarmad character came into your life –“
Hira cut him off, “Shut up Ahmad, this isn’t about Sarmad. He’s just a friend who needed my help, as a friend. This is about you, and your inability to care about anyone but yourself!”
This back and forth continued, with both their voices rising to new levels, until Ahmad relented and said, “Hira, let me set the record straight. I only love you. You’re the only person I’m doing this for. All I am saying is that we should get married and shift to San Francisco. You can get a much better job than the one you have now. Your own company is now operating remotely. Many companies are now switching to work from home. So it won’t be a big deal if you work from here.”
“That’s not the point Ahmad, my family needs me and I have to live close to them. I have to take care of them.”
“Hira, no one is asking you to abandon your family. You are living in Islamabad and still taking care of them. You can do the same thing when you’re based here in the US. My parents are now pushing that I get married; they’re old now and they want to move with me to the US as I’m their only son. We need to get married soon, please try to understand.”
“Ahmad, I can’t think about this right now. This is all too much. I need time to think about this.”
Their conversation came to an end abruptly, yet for hours afterwards, both Ahmad and Hira remained unable to process what had happened.
The next day, Hira went for a walk in F9 Park. Spring was in full bloom and a pleasant breeze brought down the temperature in the city. As Hira looked around, she saw children playing with abandon, and young couples affectionately holding hands, while other men and women jogged past her. And yet, despite this beautiful atmosphere, Hira felt a deep sense of coldness seeping into her.
With her earphones on, she kept walking, as listening to the echoes of the song, “ Wo hamsafr tha magar humnawai naa thi…adavatain thin, taghaful tha, ranjishain thin bahut, bicharnay waley main sub kuch tha magar bawafai na thi…”
(Thanks for reading the 43rd weekly chapter of my novel, ‘Hold On’. The last seven chapters will not be published online; they will be exclusive to the hard copy that I aim to publish early next year. Meanwhile, please leave your thoughts in the reply section below the chapters. I am humbled by your support and interest in my novel. Find out why I write here, start from Chapter 1 here.)
