Chapter Four - Flavour of the Night

Appearances are always made to deceive you know. One society with many hierarchies of life.  

 

11 pm, February-2012… Tamanya Terrace, Dubai Marina

“Damn you, this is UAE everything is free and easy in here. Ah, no ok not free (after all its UAE nothing is free here even a sample of a D&G perfume) cuz this easiness, my friend, is after all bought first enjoyed latter!” Watching new moon executed smoke seized from her shisha pipe, Noora claimed in a peaceful voice – older daughter to Jane and Khalifa while talking to her Syrian BFF Lubna – the only child of rich Syrian business man across the Middle East. Guarding beautiful painted lips with her crossed fingers; twitching her arched eyebrows higher as possible giving a loud message to her companion and people sitting back and forward of her seating, “you know what? Here a complete disguise is preferred the most by heritage bounded people,” whispering a few following words, “you are my sole witness.” Winked at Lubna while continuing her chatter, “I damn care really of accepting and sinking into this disguise so here I am in front of you without a disgusting golden wig and heavy make over.” Puffing constantly with one hand while other hand was busy holding a tumbler, the rim of which is, resting on her lips.

Intellectually flattened, both young women in their early twenties were gossiping around their personal clatters drawn from the disconnection with family were amusing themselves at the fictionally created reaction of their family if they realise the kind of life these ladies are addicted to. Hanging out in short dresses flowing against the freedom of the night. Enjoying the star lit sky behind the luxuriously built sky scrapers from the wooden deck finished with comfortable rooftop. Warming themselves on one of the bean bags with a pipe full of infused flavours in their Cartier accessorised hands; smoking rose plus tequila flavoured shisha whereas, Lubna love to have clean tequila flavour. Talking of Cartier accesorised hand both believe in more is less. At least they have few common things in them to be a reason of being together.

Lubna, as one should be with never ending fortune, was an intolerant exaggerated personality ready to argue in public if she does not like to give her agreement over certain situations. Do not somehow like to give an acceptable treatment by any means to someone lower than her regard.  Whereas, Noora is a formed and collected one, dominant nature not a lot of patience is seen in her though still understands the need of all living creatures around her.

A desperate need of using a rest room at a wrong time peacefully kills the man-enticing-mood of Noora. A sudden instinct made her look at her side to catch a long glimpse of a foreigner guy who was apparently covered by tan of Dubai’s Marina Beach side walk. Noor certainly have an instinct to realise the exteriors plus their interior of a subject that attracts her most without doing any extensive or massive search on the topic she could come to a conclusion that the guy sitting right at her side with other guys, enjoying a guys night out probably, is not an Arab roots not even Asian’s.

Disturbingly worst situation down her belly forced her to linger her strong and curved frame of to the restroom. Warning her BFF in a lower voice possible while making her expression louder and seductive to the men surrounding her plus the one she chosen for this night. “Watch my back while I walk right from your sight. Make sure no sign of adult years is as appealing as the guy sitting beside me.” Winks at Lubna and raises her curvy figure with possible enough seductive way that would give no man to think twice and offer her his flavour of the night.

Noora dislike the thought of buying before even imagining herself wearing at any given condition a skirt that does not have a look of formal and lean in it. Be it in a formal or in an informal gathering she is, cannot bear and play with her appearance when in crowd – except in a trial room that is big enough to accommodate ten bachelorettes at one session. Slipped her curvy figure (no less than the reflection of Jane’s own figure) in one of those from the family of blacks those are hanging proudly in her walk-in wardrobe that is designed and interiorised solely by her.  Holding her beige coloured Kim K branded evening clutch flattening her skirt down from the sides that dropped over and covering her knees half way. Pulling and flattening her slim fingers over the matching blazer as a royal formality. In a short while clattering of her beige coloured Christian Loboutine stiletto heels were welcoming the deserved one. She was no more than a wild cat herself (as she hate being called a bitch, according to Lubna at Noora’s back) who is out in the night carrying sharpness in massively kohled eyes celebrating the night in hunt of a deserving tom cat who is the best in his fights to win her over from the weak ones. Giving out a special fragrance that is disbursed from her body so generously.

Looking back at Lubna to confirm about any of the stains she might gear her eyes on and getting a positive all cleared sign. “Stop being so like a Lesbo yourself Hun!” giggles and exclaimed Noora a bit louder and giving a message out to the men to keep the preys safer from Lubna till she returns back to her hunt sight.

“Bitch!” was the only remark Lubna could use for Noora out of her sudden surprised expressions.

Acting like a decent lady (which she is in reality but in gathering controls her dominant accent overexcited nature though still cannot help to overpower any discussion and group of people but with hip of smoothed expression which quotes her as Iron Lady) making her way towards the restroom giving out a few of her seductive movements that comes to life more correctly around men. Soon disappeared behind the doors where those movements were not required to persuade anyone where she believes everyone is same, especially if it was not a chamber with any gender discrimination involved, and ran into the nearest empty toilet.

“Ahhh! The most amazing part of being human is to empty yourself of all the toxins and intakes of delicious food. I am so relaxed now.” While still relaxing her mind and body suddenly she realised to go back to the site before anything bad happens to her chosen one. Though she was pretty sure of her lethal pang that she already placed in the mind of her guy.

Spraying some more of her D&G perfume over bear neck and on the skin that was showing of her a few opened shirt buttons. Smash opened her Bobby Brown lip balm over her pre lined lips with her middle finger making herself look perfect while checking on the black paint on her long nails.

“Perfect!” exclaimed Noora. Once again looking at her back flattening fingers over her rear-end. Viola! gave herself a ready to kill look into the mirror while being conscious of other females if they are looking at her or not. “If they do, means they are falling in complex from me.” Winked herself in mirror and took her way out of the restroom when suddenly something not unusual grabbed her attention. Though, it wasn’t a surprise for her but still a surprise is more delicious if it comes in action from mind to the vary floor.

He (the chosen one) was standing just right next to the wall that parts the ladies room distinctively. Gave a lovely smile while looking at his lips then off his face sticking her big eyes on his shoulder and biting her, recently glossed-again, lips with excitement and shyness. They said nothing to each other and followed the instinct intently. He waved his hand out of shyness towards her giving her the indication of ‘shall we?’ with no intensive words used. They went of the premises as a couple he followed her as a gentle man showing her way out to the door he came from. Wrapping his arm around hers holding her curvy figure around from her waist and went off in his white Audi a8 hatchback. A sigh of relief she gushed out her lungs when she saw the cute white baby of her man a few meters away while still fluttering her magical wings in his cozy arm felt like her favourite elegant fairy, Tinker Bell. Soon as vanilla guy pressed the button from his key chain her eyes started wandering secretly to see which car’s headlights, taillights or anylights, to be precise, blinks upon response. The standard she chose for tonight was still maintained in her diary. Noora believes in standard ultimately that she knows how to manage and no man without having a certain one would ever approach her at any cost.

Noora dislikes a cultural attitude of being with a man who pushes her back and walks in front of his lady keeping her at his behind. She thinks a man of that nature should be hanged till death the one who is not courteous with his lady and who don’t even care to open doors for her while being with her to any place that has doors in it to which should be opened by a man – and it should be made legal in UAE with all due respect. A lawful project, which should never be changed overnight like many other rules in the county. 

“But will my dad and grand dad and his brothers and his sons will do it for his wife or while being strolling around with any female? Wallahi my grand mom will be so glad!” kissing and hugging her granny while shared this unique yet imposed on thought by her over all the men a night before – while sweet granny’s wrinkled face giving her child all the blessings for the project-imagination with a hollow hope in her greenish blue eyes that are hidden now under those wrinkled eye pockets – certainly those eyes had lots of dreams in youth as well that she at times, secretly, witness in Noora. She also believes a man should be appointed out of the ladies room to open the restroom door for her.

“Isn’t it a bit too much my child?” enquired granny with a grunt laugh behind her henna stained hand. “I am sure you are not serious on this part and just being curious to explain the fact that how a man should be courteous to his lady.”

In return Noora aggressively while protecting her thought said, “Oh well!” and sunk back into the protective and warm wings of her angel on earth until the new sun shine shone on her face from that huge glass door that leads to terrace and which is connected with Noora’s terrace separated with a bear grill – a usual way and easy access which Noora uses to sneak into the room of her angel anytime, especially at night if she is ever at home a time when granny usually gets herself up from a very short slumber to offer her scheduled night prayers. A time when Noora jumps in to remind granny not to forget to pray for her before getting ready to escape from home.

This was what happened once with Lubna when she dated a multi millionaire hailed from UK but originally belongs to Pakistan. They went on a shopping trip to Burj Khalifa. As per Lubna’s explanations, he reacted the same way as described above with no courtesy at all who talked too loudly that everyone could not help staring at them repeatedly. She felt embarrassed and instantly decided she will not see him once done with this first and last meeting. She met him through a common friend in a business party hosted by her mother in regards of her designer jewelry store opening across Abu Dhabi’s major shopping malls after a huge success in Dubai.

Curiously waiting Lubna got impatient when Noora did not return back. Gazing wildly at her watch she looked around but found no sign of her so called BFF. Had no other option then calling her when suddenly she received a message on her bbm. Noora typed the message in between the time she got till Mr. Chosen one closed her door pulling up her over coat corner inside that was hanging out of the car seat.  Pressing the sent button secretly when he took his driving seat and asked her, “are you comfortable.” She nodded her head without delivering any word out of her elegant lips instead stretching them to form a dimpled smile. There you go, pressed another small button on the keypad putting the phone on silent mode and slipped it back into her clutch. Took a deep breath of excitement and yet another success in good taste.

Lubna read the message louder mean while that only she could hear herself saying, “Hey, I hd to leave urgntly. Sorry I just frgt to inform u out of hasty exit.  Enjoy babes. Don’t wait for me ths nyt, I am gone ;)” ahhh… of course. Keeping the pipe aside and in no time she was seen herself strolling out of the premises with a multi millionaire again but from India this time. Successful night for both ladies it proved.

You need something to make yourself comfortable? Are you hungry? Like to fetch on a… ammm… a subway sandwich? It’s healthy for a girl like you. He smiled out of shyness at her so did she. And said thank you, am good in reply with a creased voice.

She was sure of not enjoying because she has got over excited by now. And over excitement always disappoints her. But she was wrong thins time! She did enjoy every minute with him. Upon reaching his apartment he enquired about her name after introducing himself as Mark from South Africa. In a yet another seductive movement she quoted herself as Tinker Bell upon which they both laughed. They did not talk after that over any topic as; all other subjects had no need and means of need.

While still on bed Noora was waiting for him to fall asleep so she could slip quietly out of his apartment in JBR. 

Finally, he went into his adults dreams land (with a "no kids allowed" sign board). There she easily managed to slip. Took a long silk cloth with Hawaiian pattern out of her small clutch wrapped around her body like a Pareo mostly females wear it in Hawai, Fiji etc. with different styles and hidden knots. But before leaving the apartment she took his iPhone, dialed her number and sent a blank call back on her mobile, deleting her number from his iPhone without realising that her number was already on top of his log list. Oops if she deleted her number from his log list then how will he be going to contact her in future? Well, he already saved it in his contact book without any name in hurry. Smart guy. Well being in hurry paid him here. If he saved her number with her given name as Tinker Bell she would have find it out in no time while sending a miss call to her from his mobile. A mystery should be mysterious, at least for a required set of time.

Noora took a taxi and headed to the hotel where she came to recover her securely parked car. Feeling the urge of using the restroom again she went inside the hotel counter enquiring for her need also imposed on a need of a near by restroom, "please!" Hastily went across clattering her heels on marble floor crossed the big hall entering a pass way found a restroom finally - it is not near exclaimed she in agony. Jumped sat on the toilet seat as if taking an emergency seat on a couch and putting on a last re run of Kardashian's reality show, "ah I was... almost closer". Giving a freedom to herself out of all the excitements of the successful night she saw a girl standing next to the mirror crying. 

Noora took no certain notice but then felt bad and came back to the restroom the very moment.

“Can I help you dear? I mean in any way you want me to. Should I drop you somewhere near your area? Or you need a financial favour… I mean can u please calm down for a moment and talk to me?” Noora asked with not a kind voice also not being unkind at the same instance. I can say this is her style of asking or telling someone of her kind offer. For she is not taught to speak without a hint of being dominant in her tone – she was born with it. Words might be kinder but they don’t help being kind anymore with the tone that is used and that Noora is used of.

“No its ok my dear, ill manage.”

Looking at the girl Noora said, “It’s ok come with me we will eat something. I am feeling so hungry and honestly I have no friend with me with whom I can go and enjoy my meal.”

The girl smiled and nodded her head in agreement as; she had no fear anyway of not knowing Noora so far. Since, she was already in mess so one more won’t harm her she thought.

While sitting in car Noora realised suddenly that she forgot her blazer and over coat in his apartment. Luckily she did not forget the ticket that she received in exchange to valet park her car which was thrown at the back of her clutch.

She pulled her big car into the parking of Subway outlet. Both went in while Noora saying, “How badly I wish to have a drive thru at subway outlets.” The girl shared the same dilemma. Both had a great laugh.

After finishing the meal Noora enquired for the girl’s house and turned her car to move on to the Gardens apartments. Girl invited Noora as a courtesy to come for some time to her apartment maybe to have a cup of coffee or tea together. I make a perfect Masala Tea, the girl said. In no time both strolled up to the apartment. Had a perfect Masala Tea as quoted. And a never ending conversation opened between them. It was already 4 in the morning when suddenly something important clicked Noora’s mind and she hastily made her way back to her home. This was a long night she thought.

So as the saying goes, “we don’t meet people by accident. They are somehow meant to cross our path not without a reason.” I did not see any reason somehow. What more could it be than they will move into acquaintance will look after each other moreover; have fun nights to spend together until their beautifully and massively kohled eyes captures a weak prey called man and/or flavour of the night - in sharp words of Noora. For no other raison d'être is foreseen, to be precise. They both belong to different fortune separate backgrounds interracial dreams with a big difference in their pocket sizes. A fact that I always count on is infect, I, as a human cannot see or choose a future for myself or for anyone. Whatever is destined to happen it will be done either we need it or not. The only option that is given by fate is either leave it or take it. 

For, both actions have the equal reaction.

Chapter Three - Jannat (Janet Kahlifa)

5 am, 19th of March. 

Out of 1998's surprising instances, overheard two men discussing about a woman when Jane was over her jogging track on iPod tunes. Jane never used both the ear plugs. It is the other thing that right piece of her earphone was not working but still some times she get it tucked in her ear along with the other – to let people know she is into her music and cannot hear them gossiping OR to treat both her ears with equality over similar agenda.

Murmured suddenly one of the men when Jane was walking right behind.

“I’ll show you a great site today.”

“What kind a site? I see this site everyday. What? Is there something I missed out?” gasped the companion.

“Well, yes, you certainly did and no one can see it while laying lame over his bed at 5 O'clock in the morning. OK, let me describe you verbally and let’s see if you could reseal the site or even recognise her, if you ever get your eyes on her stance.”

“AHHH… HER? OK!” Agreed the companion happily with his set of 32 all out of that huge pout. The two had similar things in their looks, which is, a big pout.

Men do not, however, take a pride in guessing but when comes on women they love their given job to blow their mind to a certain level that only his clan could be a witness of and they take a reward for having that judgmental attitude towards this addiction very carelessly. They could say many nasty things while guessing which keeps them occupied out of the motto of not giving it a thumb’s up to guessing work - just for a fun part you see.

“The most tempted thing that I find in her is…” he snugged at his companion.

Soon as Jane got interested in the discussion and to save her self and these two from the following embarrassment, she pulled the useless right ear piece and plugged it back in her ear so that they could not notice her listening to their conversation if for instance she get caught right at behind.

Jane was still busy with the ear plug when suddenly the companion raised his eyes, smiled and hit his elbow to his narrator's bicep holding up hands towards his well-built chest giving out a gesture of what his friend notices in her when he sees her.

The stranger knocked into the companion’s six packs and said, “you know am gay and I can’t betray you.”

Jane giggled wile cupping her mouth with one of the hands.

While the passed by, who were walking the opposite direction were giving her a sarcastic look might be thinking she listening to one of the funny radio channel DJ’s who is giving out a gift hamper to the listeners who make him laugh for nothing.

The companion mean while laughed and started teasing him as if he is aroused for him. The passed by were getting pretty amazed but these three were enjoying each others company.

For a meanwhile, Jane was shocked herself at the companion and whispering to her heart, “I mean six packs he made to attract a man? Somehow, her hope and want of flirt was going off after assuming all this.

“Hey hey, it’s enough I’m not gay of course but I’m not attracted towards what you are pretending here bro. 

He talked as if he is spitting on companions biceps.

Jane wanted to maintain a certain space between these two gays and herself behind them as a nature of being a woman she was just interested in the conclusion that how a man sees a woman.

He continued.

“Well, she has a golden caramel (ish) skin too far to be an Indian and too near to be an Arab. I find it quite difficult to get her real roots really - well, being a male I am bad in guessing too as my predecessors and successors. But she is cuddly, her cheeks are so soft-looking that I sometimes twitch them in air." Raising his hands while in air with sparkle in his bold and big eyes those are accessorised with heavy lashes.

Gasps and giggle that sexy companion of around thirty years of age.

“Wallahi! Her American, UK (ish) and some times that Asian accent is such a confusing thing for me you see.”

“So you already talked to her?” asked the companion with his usual teasing g way.

“Idiot, as you are expected.”

“Idiot!” whispered Jane to herself, “I did not expect that.” Adjusted her earphone again giving a clear gesture to others walking the opposite direction upon her actions. But what to do, she was disappointed after all.

Since being in the situation where i have to describe Jane, i can claim that where ever she steps, never have turned herself down in anybody's eyes as; all eyes get glued on her stature and personality. Jane is not a slender woman at all i can categorise her easily into an average bodied lady - with attractive and very talk-about (good and bad both) personality. she has a very rebellious attitude in one's vision and very sweet and kind in others. very customised in her looks. never performed any malfunction when comes to her wardrobe. well using the word wardrobe here is just a ritual that I am fulfilling otherwise all her clothes and dresses are never organised or well kept inside a wardrobe. she never decides pre-hand over what to wear the other day. just wakes up and performs a massive control over her day's look.

“Her eyes attract me a lot. The way she put her eyeliner sometimes gives me a gesture that she is a modern Emirati woman. But no abaya is the indication that she is not a local girl. Oh by the way, I heard her talking on phone, in case you need to know how I know so much about her accent.”  He smiled.

“Hmmm…” shrugged the idiot companion while his friend went on after taking a few sips out of his big water bottle.

The six packed idiot companion was really giving her a hard time to get to hear the whole description of a woman from a man’s perspective - nothing on earth is better then the appreciation of a man for a woman - sometimes - a man never appreciates immoderately and on immediate bases and if he does that means he really can not control over his words and of course he means it - Jane for sure always looked out for that true appreciation which was almost everyday added in her credits. 

On many occasions she felt like going to the companion and asking him to shut his mouth and listen to the man carefully. But she was tied up herself. 

Jane was getting late for her work:

“Seems like these people does not have any work to do or don't have to go to Abu Dhabi for a JOB.” Mumbled she.

“Her hair that flares in air always are kept tied into a fairly looking ponytail.  I never quite am able to count colours on her hair - red, purple, blond and all possible browns. And yes, a sweet little nose that never allows her eye to set on me.” Gasps.

"intersteing! go on. I am almost in love with her now." 

"i discovered her!" claimed over the unknown woman this calm matured stranger.

In a very strangled and serious voice the companion somehow continued who was i am sure almost done with his interpreter's introduction and was ready to see her and even meet and greet her at a very first instance he sees her, “Every woman here is in abaya, and am sure they all are expatriate women disguising themselves into local dressings.” Pointed out the companion.

Jane was almost leaned towards the companion already with his eyes who were searching her so deeply and desperately.

“Oh yeah! Crap!” Jane strained her beautiful crease-less long neck while looking around and popping it out of her not slender but carved shoulders - heritage gave it a name of being carved. She found herself in a zone of jealousy I must count here. “Every woman here I see are in abaya yes the handsome idiot is right.”

“OMG… are they talking about me?” a thought suddenly carpeted her mind with her mouth wide opened letting her lips then smack together and biting all the skin coloured lipstick off and furrowing her nicely done eyebrows. Her disappointment was obvious. I recall.

It looked like as if this gay hunk is not going to let her get more jealous of herself. So she coughed and passed them both as if she just joined them on to the track. In that unconscious moment where Jane was still collecting herself all together she literally got hit with the companion’s side. That is it, break of ice and start of conversation she thought it is. It was pretty obvious  by the looks now that whom the companion’s friend was discussing so warmly.

Both the men were from local clan.

“Where are you from?” asked the companion.

“Well, in I am from Pakistan.” Answered Jane.

“Wow! Exclaimed the stranger upon which his companion claimed, “Yeah my friend and even all locals love Pakistani women. They are hard to find though. And they are really very beautiful to start with.”

Blushed Jane with her eyes pointing on her various colour enameled nails.

“What is your name by the way?” enquired the companion from Jane himself while his friend was not able to ask much when the woman was sitting right beside him on a footpath on track site.

“Jannat.”

“Wow Arabic face Arabic name i have now started wondering if you know to converse in Arabic then no one can judge where you from.” The companion said while still under the wings of his amusements.

“Shukran ya seyadi” said Jane in Arabic. I have to go now gentlemen I am already late from reaching my office on time.

Grasped each others’ hands and there Jane ran way to the direction of her house in north swaying of course her sexy hips to the eyes of both the men.

"As you have already missed your transportation," said hot chocolate fudge companion, "can i have the pelasure to drop you, ummm, since I am on my way back to AD myself." while clasping both his hands together making a loud and heavy sound." So, so would you like to join me? I... I mean can i drop you?

Jane looked at him and then to his fired friend with a smile on her lips that smacked almost immediately. 

Well, my readers are wonderfully aware what her reply should be. 

Chapter Two - Abide With Me

A panic it was which ran all over the city – but this small girl with a black Djellaba hood covering her head - was passionate to draw and get her manuscript on drawing published. Striking through and passing along the charcoaled bricks - a flourishing reddish-brown that faded over time. No noticeable difference have the wall reacted to when getting a sensational touch by her tiny, painted with charcoals fingers. Children of all ages were busy in bullying, pulling and throwing away each other – their version of playing a game probably. 

Standing on the stairs a deep thought carpeted this little angel's blue eyes which were stuck on the old styled rusty cooper bell hanging around the opening of the door. Clinching and digging deep her fingers into each others, scratching the skin with her blackened nails. Looked all over the place. No one was walking around to get the help of. Turned around and sat on the stair she was standing on. Waiting for some one to pass inside but no one did. Unable of waiting no longer she stood and organised her self took a deep trembling cold breath smacked and bit her lower lip. Suddenly her eyes caught a site of corner of a bench that was kept hidden behind the opened Solid Oak wood door - probably, where her grand father use to sit with a stick in his trembling but strong hands as a door guard. No one now guard this place any further after his death. She kept her belongings on the stair and went towards the bench - in no time she was seen applying all her force into pulling and pushing the heavy bench. Dragged till it came on to the spot just under the hanging bell. Lifted her Djellaba up till her soft knees to save it from any damages.

Rang the old styled rusted bell hanging over the door. Stepped in the little girl with few papers covered well in a jute fabric. There came outside a strange stranger upon the hearing of the loud bell who looked no less than a creature of her age with big ears and lips with beautifully done French plait wearing a frock that covered her feet. The little girl discovered that strange looking creature had limbs no less than like humans – probably she was born with all other defects in her with extra sweetness to count on.

The little girl named Sana aged seven from Morocco was a celebrated and god-gifted child with certain talent that does not hit a human every now and then without learning from an educated instructor. She was well aware of the pros and cons of sketching from scrap. She sold dry bread to people who had animals to live and feed on. She collected dry bread each morning from houses in downtown where she lived with her old and blind granny. Everyone loved her because she was a fine looking young girl with unusual watery grey bluish eyes and of course with that dent in her clean and fair cheeks she took many hearts – big and small - away already.

After collecting these dry pieces of bread she use to sell them, as I mentioned earlier, to the people who bear animals like goats for meat and cows for milk of course for selling purpose.

The money she earned every day, use to buy daily supplies of food for her and her granny – saved a few pennies to buy her charcoals and papers. Sana, extra ordinary looking girl as everyone thought would grow up into one attractive young woman with slender shoulders good height fair complexion and slim stature to start with. She looked more like Lebanese then Moroccan in her disguise.

Back to the publishing house where Sana found this strange looking girl of her age. Born to a couple who lived in and hailed from Morocco. About her looks that she got from her mother, when she was expecting with Sara, went into a severe accident which affected the unborn child’s genetics disfigured her whole stature and looks who was later diagnosed with cancer. She was put under child labour against her will by parents who did not need her since she was not an ideal figure that a man could demand in marriage for. Looking at no other possibilities, her local goldsmith father decided to put her to earn money into this small publishing house in whatever work she was allotted, to fill the water tanks to clean the concrete floors. Over the time she found her passion in philosophy also which was instilled naturally in her.

“Oh you draw.” Looking around with fearful eyes she asked Sana in low voice, “can I… I see it?”

“Ok!”

Sara turned the pages hastily and found unsaid sadness, courage and love of nature onto the clear papers.

“I am sure you picked them from somewhere else in the town. Or maybe some unanswered and holy soul wrapped dry pieces of bread in it.” Sara guessed.

“no!” exclaimed Sana, “I made it.”

While Sara tried to judge the status of papers if it was twisted and thrown. But it wasn’t. The papers were as clean and wrinkle free as they should be once it has agreed to adopt the a given face and purpose to live for.

“You know what? A paper is like us, humans.”

“Are you really a human?’ asked Sana with such an innocent accent.

“Well, yes I am. Oh it is the thing which I got from my mother.” She continued while walking around on pane of the window that collects all the works from artists, writers, musicians etc. “a paper is when twisted turned quenched so badly it loses its shape. But when it is queued to receive a face a purpose an ultimate disguise it turns into.” Sara continued with her words and somewhat Sana was paying a great attention to the words. Though words are neither her predecessors nor her ancestor’s occupation.

A heavy voice approached the girls while coughing. The hit of the walking stick over the concrete floor was certain to every intent ear. Sara left the papers belonging to Sana over the pane of collecting window and jumped down heading towards the nearest opened door.

“Hello young woman,” the man laughed while taking his seat and resting the stick next to the wall. 

“What do you have for me collect?” Inquired the old man after pulling a rod attached with downlights fixed under an old mahogany ceiling fan and bending himself along his table fixed beneath the sliding window.

“I sketch.” She replied.

“You… SKETCH?” No wonder, haha,  but then my little women, we don’t entertain small readers here as you can see from height of the counter from where i can bearly see your face.

Sana pushed herself backward and joked about his big belly giving him another possible reason for him that prevent him to see things beneath his big belly. the old man looked furiously from behind his specs with no glass attached to it.

“It is, sir, not for small readers it is for all, I have many a drawings of your interest.”

“And how you know what interests me exactly? HAAN?” the old man said in a heavy voice while clearing his sound pipes and smoking through a midwakh.

“Love, of any kind is an interest in itself, Sir,”

The old man was busy in turning the loose pages around that housed many stories in lines and shadows.

“You made… this… entire, young woman?”

“Yes, Sir.” Said Sana with a twinkle in her eyes and smile on her small so gentle visage.

“you have a sweet smile my little girl.”

“Thank you, Sir, my mother gave it to me.”

Laughed the old man upon Sana’s innocent words. 

“I am afraid my child your words are innocent but the drawings don’t say that you made them. Can you make one for me, right now?” Snuggled  he in a heavy voice.

“Yes sir.” Sana sat on the floor and searched her hanging bag that resided many dreams in it. Got all her material out while the old man watching her material that wasn’t of the quality that is required. But the quality of the material can never stop a talented person to hit and break the concrete walls. The papers and charcoal were just as common as a student might have in their early stages of learning.

“what are you going to make for me?” questioned the old man.

“I am making a You for you Sir.” Sana Replied in return.

“Making a ME young woman? Haha” swaying his belly down the table while laughed he upon innocent reply.“I wonder if you or Sara were under each others' influence ever.”

“No, Sir, I just met her now.”

“Oh you already met. No wonder. Haha.” The old man continued with his signature laugh.

Sana was still unfinished with her given job when a handsome young man with dusky skin entered the collecting counter cabin and bidding a good morning to the man behind the counter. Soon as the old man saw him coming in he kept Sana’s sketches aside and occupied himself in getting the big ledger book out. The handsome man with such an attractive personality handed an envelope to the collector and signed into the big ledger book.

He shocked the pen down where Sana was sitting on the floor with her charcoal and a few clean papers that showed traces of black lines those got from her hands all coloured black by the handling of the charcoal that she used as a pencil to draw her dreams. She grabbed attention of the young man by the way she was swaying her tiny hands over paper.

The young man, without signing the register sat down with Sana – she reserved her cloak and pushed herself a bit far then his knee touching hers without looking at him. Suddenly, he grabbed her tiny hands and started scrubbing them with a white handkerchief that he drew from his coat pocket.

“Abide with me; I’ll buy u some good charcoal that won’t stain your hands.” And started packing her bag filled with some wanted and some unwanted dreams. He stuffed her week wrist into his strong palms to make her stand. In no time the old man heard her balgha clattering all over the concrete floor swaying away clueless with the kind gentle man who donated the publishing house for those who have no resources and is heavy on their pockets to buy material.

Old man was inquiring the brown envelope full of money to complete the entry into the register, lying down in front of him on the cracked Oak wood table polished with walnut veneer; there appeared suddenly the young man again to fetch the sketches of tiny Sana. Left astray the opened register fluttering of papers caused by old ornate 54" brass ceiling fan reminded him to sign ceremonially with a gold platted pen drawn from his front coat pocket. Tipped the pen down on register under his name - instead of signing he scrapped his name and took the envelope full of money from the trembling hands of the old man. He left the place like wild wind never to come back. As if he got what he was throbbing for ages on Atlantic oceans, The Casablanca.

Hands if stained with talent is good but hands if stained with hard work is associated to nothing then the quick steps to success - she had both under her cloak. 

This is what he found in my little Sana. The courage and the God-given talent.