Dead Ends: Episode 2

(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. For "Episode 1" click here. Enjoy!)

Episode 2

Maheen wheels her bag out of San Francisco airport and looks around to see if anyone’s here to take her home. Right then a Lamborghini stops a few feet from her and from it emerges Eemaan, the 20 year old bride-to-be.

She is clad in a pink sleeveless top and white Capri pants, a glittering pink hand bag hangs from her shoulder and her long dark hair flows down to her waist.

“Maheeeeeennnn!!!!” she screams excitedly running to her in 5 inch high heels. She throws her arms around Maheen’s neck and kisses the air next to both her cheeks.

“Oh. My. God. Maheen! You have gotten so sexy in the last year! My, My! Look at that figure! How do you do it girl? If only you wouldn’t tie that luscious hair of yours in that pony or bun or whatever it is, guys would be falling all over you- But I heard some rumors about you and someone called Sadiq! Is it true? You must tell me all about him and you have to show me his picture! But we’ll do that later! For now, tell me how you’ve been?!”

 “I’m always amazed at this ability of yours,” Maheen teases, “how can you say all that in one breath and not let anyone else talk?”

“Come here you! Give me a hug! I missed you so much! Thank god you made it here.”

They both hug each other and remain in the warm embrace for a few seconds.

“When did you get this fabulous Lamborghini? Wait! Aamir gave it to you as your engagement present. Right?”

“You almost got it. But the car was a birthday gift from Aamir. This is what he gave me for the engagement.”

She shows Maheen her left ring finger. A huge diamond embedded in a platinum ring adorns her slender finger. Maheen’s mouth falls open.

“It’s unbelievably humungous! How come your finger hasn’t fallen off?”

“Do you think its gaudy? I told Aamir not to buy a big ring. You know that I like delicate jewelry. But he does what he wants to.”

“Wait till Moty Khala takes a look at it!” Maheen snorts in laughter, “her eyes will pop right out of their sockets! I’m sure she’ll ask her cheesy lover to buy a ring double its size. What did we name him?”

“Uncle Sleazebag! And by the way have you already bought all your clothes? ‘Cause I’ve ordered this gorgeous lainga for you. And yes before I forget, I’m throwing a welcome party for you tonight!”

“But-”

“No buts! Don’t be a party pooper I’ve already invited all of my and Aamir’s friends. And everything’s ready. It’s going to be at Aamir’s place. It’s not that big a party, don’t worry.”

Both the girls enter Eemaan’s home through the huge mahogany doors. The floor is tiled with off-white marble. It’s so shiny that Maheen can see her reflection in it. Huge windows provide a spectacular view of their immaculate garden.

Eemaan’s mom, a plump woman, approaches Maheen with open arms and embraces her lovingly.

“Hello Maheen! Dear how are you?”

“Hello Auntie! I’m good. How are you? And where’s Uncle?”

Just then a voice booms from behind Eemaan’s mom.

“There’s my favorite niece!”

Eemaan’s dad emerges from his library and gives her a bear hug. Maheen smiles up at his fatherly face.

“My God! Uncle! You’re getting more handsome with each passing year. Auntie you better keep an eye on him. And don’t let Moty Khala near him! She’ll pounce on him like a cat on a mouse!”

Upon hearing that, there is a great boom of merry gurgling laughter from her uncle as she rests her head on his shoulder.

The party at Aamir’s house is in full swing. Maheen is dancing with Aamir and Eemaan to the beat of the latest hip hop song. There are at least a hundred people in the large ball room.

The song ends and a tired looking Maheen walks away from the dance floor and drops on a comfy couch. A waiter offer’s a cocktail; she takes the long stemmed glass from the tray and gulps it down. A very skinny guy is sitting next to her, she doesn’t notice him.

“Hey!”

Maheen turns her head and looks at him for a second. He’s as pale as a corpse, his lips thin and white, his skin stretched over his skull like a rubber sheet and his clavicles are jutting out from his round necked T – Shirt.

“Hey…” She replies.

“So you’re Maheen?”

“Yeah…” She replies closing her eyes and massaging her temples with the tip of her fingers, “And you are?”

“I’m a friend of Aamir’s. You look like you could do with some fresh air.”

“Umm… yes I’d like to go outside. You want to come?”

Both of them walk through the French doors out in the garden. The garden is lush green, with rose bushes here and there. Skinny guy suddenly gets a coughing fit.

“Are you ok? You sick or something?”

“Not really.” He croaks.

They sit on a wooden bench. Maheen places both her hands behind her and bends backwards looking up at the sky. She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales it out. Suddenly she feels a bit cold. She rubs her bare upper arms with her palm. Skinny guy takes off his jacket and hands it to her. She slips it on.

“Thanks.”

She puts both her hands in the jackets pockets. Her hand touches something cold in the pocket. She takes it out and sees it by the lamp light. It’s a little bottle filled with clear liquid. An injection bottle; the label reads “Morphine.”

Skinny guy glances at her and calmly takes the bottle from her hand.

“That was not for you to see.”

“You are an addict!”

“Yeah. So what?” He smirks.

He takes out a syringe from his jeans pocket and fills it with the morphine. He holds the syringe in his right hand and injects the fluid slowly in his arm. Maheen watches, unblinking.

“You wanna try some?”

Maheen stands up and slowly backs off, away from him.

“Don’t come near me!”

Maheen looks around to see if anyone can come to her help, but no one’s near them. Skinny Guy approaches her.

“Easy now, Maheen! I won’t do anything to you. Don’t be alarmed. I’ll go away quietly.”

Maheen panics and bolts towards the house. Skinny guy lurches towards her and grabs her ankle. The syringe in his hand pierces Maheen’s pants into her flesh. She kicks him off and runs.

Maheen zigzags through people, running, not daring to look behind her. She climbs the stairs two at a time to the first floor of the house and enters a spacious bathroom. She quickly closes the door and leans her back against it.

The carpet of the bathroom is so thick and soft that her toes disappear in it. Beads of sweat drip down her forehead. She’s breathing heavily.

She looks down towards her feet and sees the syringe sticking out from her right leg. She bends, yanks it out and flushes it down the toilet. She rolls her pants up and a blood droplet trickles down from the side of her leg to her heel. She wipes the droplet with a tissue. She looks at herself in the mirror and splashes her face with water. She adjusts her hair and goes back down in the party.

Maheen looks around for the addict but he’s no where to be found. Suddenly a hand grabs her elbow; she jerks it away and whirls around, panicking.

“Whats wrong with you?” Eemaan asks.

“You startled me!” 

“Boo! Now you should be startled.” Eemaan laughs.

*                         *                        *

  

Majid is eating his breakfast. He dips last night’s roti in a cup of tea and chews the rubbery roti vigorously. He sips the tea slowly thinking about nothing in particular.

“Amma,” he calls out to his mother, “I’m going to work. Allah Hafiz.”

“Ok. Allah Hafiz.” She says from the kitchen.

He walks towards the door humming a local song but stops short when he hears someone sobbing outside.

“Allah wanted it that way. We can do nothing in front of Allah’s will.”

“But why me? Why my only son?”

Majid tip toes towards the door and peeks through a crack.  He sees his father’s arm around Bahadur’s fathers shoulders. Bahadur’s father is crying. Tears seep into his shirt collar.

“Does Bahadur know about it?”

“Of course not! How can I tell him that he’s not normal? That he can never have a normal life, that he’ll be the laughing stock in our society. He’s such a good boy! And works so hard! How can I wipe the smile off his face by telling him that he’s a…” Bahadur’s father chokes, “a Hijra!”

Majid’s head reels. It feels to him as if somebody punched him in his stomach. He’s rooted to the spot. He presses his palm on his forehead, his mouth open.

“You have to tell him. Sooner or later he’ll find out himself. And that’ll be worse than you telling him. Tell him before anyone else does by ridiculing him. It’s the wisest thing to do right now.”

“Yes… yes you are right. I will tell him… soon… My friend, thank you for supporting me and for keeping my secret all these years… I uh… I have to go to work now.”

Bahadur’s father wipes his tears with the back of  his hands. He hugs Majid’s father, who pats him on his back and then he walks away.

Majid suddenly realizes that his father is coming inside and that he is standing directly behind the door. He runs towards the bathroom and hides inside. He emerges out of it after a minute and sees his father sitting on the charpoy. His mother enters the verandah with a large bowl in her hand.

“Majid what are you still doing here?” She asks

His father looks towards him.

“I uh… I was just going.”

With that he stumbles out of the house.

(Stay tuned for Episode 3 next week)