Movie nights became a daily ritual for us, and I had not let the part that, Shifa, being a Muslim and a girl, drinks get to my head. No one in the whole family, hers or mine did but then again if she didn't, I wouldn't be getting all excited over our newfound nightly routine. And I wouldn't deny the fact it came to my mind to ask Wahab if he did too. He lived in Delhi for five years, in a hostel, surely, boys there were more prone to pick up the habit of drinking alcohol. I did not, though, because if I did then he would ask why I wanted to know and he was not a fool, he would know straight away and the little friendship I had managed to make with Shifa would be ruined. And for the sake of Allah, that was the last thing I wanted. Besides, she did a lot of things that I had found repulsive but now only seemed secondary. I wouldn't decline that it didn't bother me sometimes, the idea of hell and heaven was way too deep in my mind, and I worried over where she'll end up after death. I did not care if she didn't pray a single time, or if she had male friends hanging around her; if she consumed liquor or had a... girlfriend. The last part was still unclear, but I had enough of pretending that I didn't understand the notion. The first-ever movie she made me watch was a huge giveaway and I feigned innocence when she got up and excused herself to the washroom, leaving me alone to watch the two guys kissing. We didn't talk about it and she never put anything remotely the same on TV againâher intoxication was probably the cause of her first-time courage.
Shifa had been more open and talked freely and each night, I came to her apartment after a tiring day of classes, she would have a new movie set up on the TV for us to watch. I liked doing that with her and often times I made something light for us to eat. And one day, I forgot the exact date, but it was after a day or two we started talking like normal people that she asked me to stop cooking for her.
"Why? Don't you like my cooking? I would remind you, I am, if not the best, one of the most skilled cooks in the whole family."
Her face scrunched up and I saw the way she struggled to find the wordsâit was hard for her, I had realized, to talk sometimes. She needed more time to conjure up a sentence and I was happy to give her all the time she needed and went back to stir the kheer. I couldn't tell her how grateful I was to her for making an effort, so I tried to show it in other ways. My mother said a man's heart could be won by feeding him and I hoped this trick would work with her too.
An old Bollywood song remained stuck in my mind after I heard it play on the roadside tea stall that Shifa made me go with her the morning before we both went our own ways to college, and I started humming the tune.
"You have a nice voice."
I grinned at her but didn't think it needed a response. I had changed out of my clothes and was in a simple Kurti and salwar, oiled hair coiled around in a tight bun and Shifa wore her usual pyjamas and hoodie. Her hair, though, remained open and I watched her watch me.
"You don't have to cook every day. You must get too exhausted."
I nodded, slowly and let her words sink in. That had never been a problem. I was one of those people who got the worst cramps on periods and at home, I had the duty to cookâpain or not. And that was why painkillers were there for. The aroma of kheer filled the room and Shifa sniffed, taking a step closer to the pot and a smile broke on my face. Too predictable, she was.
"Alright. I do get exhausted, but I like cooking."
She hadn't said anything after and we watched the movie, Monalisa Smile. Shifa talked a lot between movies and I, for once, didn't find it annoying. I liked the way she would try to explain certain scenes to me as if I was too naïve as if I hadn't cleared the NEET on my first attempt.
"I am going to visit the Art Museum tomorrow-," I didn't look at her to see her reaction, instead took a spoonful of kheer in my mouth and added, "-with my friends. Can I?"
Shifa laughed, "And I say, no. No, you cannot."
I practically felt my heart sinking, but nonetheless, I nodded, "Okay. I'll let them know."
She paused the movie and I decided I wouldn't be a coward, so, I turned to face her. Her brows were raised high and somehow, I got the idea she was not expecting my immediate submission.
"Adia, seriously? I was kidding."
I didn't say anything, in my mind, my mother's voice was loud and clear, cousins talk. I wished no trouble from Wahab or my mother, and as much as I knew, Shifa and Wahab talked, what would have happened if I went without asking her, wouldn't she tell this to Wahab? And Shifa guessed why I asked.
"Wahab would say no. I am sure and- "
"I promise I wouldn't tell him."
Days passed in ease, and I had never thought I would be on the receiving end of such happiness. Sure, my mother sometimes dampened my mood but there was always Zoya to rant to and now, even Shifa. I had learned in few days that she was more of a listener than a talkerâalmost like it was designed to be this way since I couldn't stop blabbering once started. Wahab was even a bigger talker than me and I usually listened to him. I had loved it in the beginning but now, I realized I had too much to say; so many thoughts, and with everything happening around me, I just wanted to speak to my heart's content. Shifa had changed her hostile behaviour toward me, and I found myself changing my attitude of superiority over her. But something along with that was changing inside me too. Not a good change. And this was something I couldn't tell anyone, not even Zoya and especially not Shifa.
I had taken up a habit of listening to songs in the metro, and as I sat on my seat, Bahara played in my ears and in exhaustion, I closed my eyes and as soon as I did, pictures of Shifa flashed before them. I lost all sense of good and bad and enjoyed her smiling at me, my own lips stretching in a known gesture. This shocked me into a panicked state and in haste, I changed the channel to a podcast but instead of focusing on the voice of the speaker, I listened to my own heartbeat. Thankfully, I didn't have to think about this too much as my phone rang. Shifa's name was displayed on the screen, and I missed her first call, returning her call after a few minutes.
"Where are you?"
"Almost there. Why?'
I heard some ruffling from her side and then she spoke, "Nothing, just I have invited a few friends over and called to know if you wanted to have yours there to."
"No. It's fine. Have fun."
I didn't wait for her reply. I didn't want to be reminded how she never asked me genuinely to join her before. I sighed and dropped my head back, guess I'll have to sleep empty stomach since I was obviously not welcomed to show my face while her friends were there and I had too much social anxiety to eat in public. Of course, life couldn't be too kind.