OS: Tranche de Vie Series

Disclaimer: These are random musing of my brain on MaHer's future life. Some are drabbles and some are closer to an OS. So I far I've written about 6 so I'll post them when I can.

Tranche de Vie: Comfort

I threw my bag the moment I entered the room; and crashedface first into my pillow. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes. Nosooner had I closed my eyes; I could feel his presence at the door.

“Mahid”, I called for him in my tired state as I stretchedmy hand out for his.

I could hear the door close and lock latch. I was engulfed inhis warm embrace seconds later. His arms wrapped around me; his hands restingaround my waist. I could feel myself relax as I leaned my body close to his.

“The kids…”, I mumbled.

I didn’t need to say anything else as his gentle squeeze ofmy hand was answer enough. A mass casualty event affects everyone in thecommunity not just the hospitals. As Mufti, I know he had been knee-deep in itas me rallying the community for the blood drive along with setting up food andshelter for those working the incident and the families affected.

The warmth of him is enough to wash away the horrors of theoutside world.

He is my comfort, my home, MY Mahid.

Great start ❤❤❤🤗🤗

Disclaimer: I know we all aren't feeling the happiest today so a happy snippet. Enjoy!

Tranche de Vie: Joy

My almost 4-year-old bolted out of the room like she was late for something important.

I am being summoned, “Papa! Let’s go!” as she gets about halfway through the corridor.

I catch up to her in a few strides, and she grabs my hand to pull me towards the stairs.

I kneel to reach her eye level and height and ask, “Why don’t you call me Abbu?”

The eye roll and the exasperated sigh had me purse my lips to prevent me from laughing.

“Papa! You aren’t old and don’t have a beard. Abbu is for old people,” she explained matter-of-factly like it was the most simple thing in the world.

I could hear a stifled chuckle coming from our room. Iturned to see her mother and my wife Seher leaning against the door frametrying very hard not to laugh.

“Your mind is just as khurafati as your Ammi’s,” I said under my breath.

“DON’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY AMMI! My Abbu bahut mohabbat karte hein unse; he will beat you up,” she snapped back before making her way down the stairs.

My wife joined me where I stood stunned. We locked eyes and burst out laughing. The kids these days are way smarter and ready with a quick reply for everything.

We intertwined our hands and I brought our joined hands to kiss hers.

“Not bad for two people whose paths were never meant to cross, truly Allah ki mehar.” I said as we head down to leave for our ice cream outing.

For Tahir - Because I love that he is Team MaHer

Tranche de Vie: Dosti

It was the end of the year picnic for Madrasa’s boys and girls. There is food, fun, games and the annual kite off. The kids gravitated towards me after the first picnic, to teach them how to fly a kite. The girls have taken the top prize the last few years, since Seher began to join the outing and taught the girls. Seher, Tahir and I stood on the side watching the kids fly their kites.

“Do you remember the first time we bought the kids to the picnic,” Tahir spoke out loud. “Do you know the secret behind it?”

This caught Seher’s attention and her eyes lit up withcuriosity; whereas I was glaring at Tahir.

Unprompted, Tahir continued, “You see, my best friend was soon to be married; he wanted to have a private conversation with his bride to be so…the only thing he could come up with was take her brother’s class on the picnic along with both of the families.”

Tahir braced himself for the anger that was coming for outing the secret.

Before anything could happen, Seher asked, “I bet you could share some great stories from your friendship. From your childhood. How did you two meet?”

“Tahir and I met when we were seven,” I begin surprising both Seher and Tahir. “He was one of Dada Huzur’s students at the Madrasa; he had bought him home as a friend for me. He thought I should have a friend my age especially after Ammi’s death. Someone I could play with and talk with, go to classes at the Madrasa with.”

Needless to say, it didn’t start out well at all. I was quiet, moody, angry, too serious, too guarded but he came every day even if just to play in the corner by himself. Eventually we became best friends and now he is my brother.

“Tahir Miya, I doubt you know this, but you bought a young boy joy and friendship after the biggest tragedy in his life,” I let him in on another secret of mine.

Tahir was visibly touched by the revelation.

Tahir and I both extended our hands for a handshake. I shook his hand then pulled him in for a hug.

“Thank you for being that little Mahid’s friend and this Mahid’s brother.”

❤❤❤