Runaway spirit (4)

Taking her Barbie dress, I rush upstairs to sit with Aunt Shahana and play. Aunt studies at night. And while she studies in her attic, I decide to make dolls’ house. I don’t know how much time I take but I really start to feel sleepy in end.

“Pinky…are you sleeping HERE?” Aunt asks eating boiled potatoes, college notes in one hand and a blue pen in her ear.

“No…”I answer with half-opened eyes.

“Go to sleep…it’s to late,” she says laughing.

“Nah….”I refuse but slip in her arms.

I am running again. Running very VERY FAST. Fastest ever in my life. With no shoes and no bag. I am running toward the graveyard. I am conscious about that and look here and there for Uncle Mooda or his friends. They are smoking behind a grave. I pass by them secretly.


“So cute, how old is she?” one of the guests inquire pinching my cheeks. Red with anger, I stick my tongue out. I don’t like her.

“Ha ha” she laughs.

Unlike normal days, there is a crowd on Eid day. Young and old, small and big girls-all gather around our place to greet us. But I don’t like a lot of people. I feel scared.

“Oh yes, she is our butterfly. She is five-year-old,” passing the biscuit plate to her, my aunt, Shahana answers dragging me in her lap, “We love these girls. In fact, we raise them. They forget their parents when we are around.”

“Oh…you are such an aunt. I feel so envious,” the girl said smiling. Sh gazes my dress. “How pretty is this dress.”

“I made it,” aunt Sara, who was making tea said stretching her lips. “I always make their suits. Did you see Posy’s suit. I also made that. It is black and red frock. I filled it with red sequins,” Sara wants to tell more when somebody calls her name, “Sara…come here..serve tea with me.”

“Excuse me, I just come back.” She says running towards the kitchen.

“So, where is Posy?I haven’t seen her?” The guest says.

“She must be playing with children outside.” Aunt Shahana informs.”Oh, here she comes,” she finds Posy playing with me in the television lounge.

“Oh, come here Posy,” Shahana calls her.

“Yes, aunt?” Posy runs.

“Meet Aunt Shazia. Shake hands. She wants to see your dress,” Shahana kisses her forehead softly, pinching slowly her pony.

As I say before, Posy is my elder sister. She is nine-year-old. Big eyes, circle face, curly hair and a confident body language, she is an inspiration for me. She greets the guests and shakes hands with everyone, unlike me. I am shy or may be a coward. I agree.

“Come here sweetie, let me see your dress.” Shazia calls her. “Oh, it is so brilliant. I love your suit. It’s a long pretty maxi,” she compliments.

“Thank you, Aunt Shazia,” Posy smiles leaving the door. She knows she won’t be allowed to stay long among guests. It is a bad manner!

“Masha Allah, she is a cute girl,” I hear it.

“You know Shazia, we raised them with great care. We love these girls a lot. They are our blood. We can’t live without them,” Aunt Shahana tells raising both shoulders and hands in air.

“Okay, I think we should go. We are getting late,” Shazia says looking at the wall clock.

“No, you can’t without finishing this dessert”

“ha ha…sure”


It is still Eid day. Aunt Shahana, Sara and their friends are all sitting in the television lounge. They are giggling, singing and enjoying the day. Posy is with them. Smiling, shaking hands and dancing; I am standing alone to one side. I quietly sneak out from the backdoor and start to run…..Fast…Faster….VERY VERY FAST toward the graveyard! (….to be continued)


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