All That Is Kay Part Ten

”Hey, isn’t Naasir dating Zaakira now?” Senior asked Zaid.

”Yeah that’s what I heard. Good luck to him man, that chick is psycho.”

They then started debating about who was the hottest chick in their class, which is when I tuned out.

Naasir and Zaakira? Why did I not hear about this sooner? Thank god I didn’t see her during the day. The fact that I’m coming with Naasir to work would be just another reason for her to hate me.

Before going to bed, I checked my Facebook account. I had a new friend request… From Naasir Vawda!

I accepted the request and scrolled down his wall. Nothing very interesting.

I logged off and went to sleep.

The next day, I wore heels. If I was going to bump into Zaakira, I needed the extra confidence that the clickety-clack of high heels instantly provided.

At the office, after lunch, Farzana informed me that  all six interns had to work together on a photo project. The other interns were waiting for me in the conference room.

I gingerly knocked on the conference room door. Then opened the door and went inside. Five pairs of eyes stared back at me.

Only four seemed friendly.

Three guesses who the hostile pair of blinkers belonged to.

She seemed shocked to see me.

The other interns introduced themselves. The senior intern (he had worked part-time here before, hence he was above us normal interns) was in charge.

His name was Ahmed.

And he was flipn gorgeous!

We sat around the huge table and discussed angles for the shoot. It was basically a shoot for some healthy eating recipes that were going to feature in next month’s issue.

We needed a way to make the not-so-appetizing food look divinely delicious.

We also needed a theme.

Zaakira suggested using the age-old way of using the fruit and veggies that were used in the recipes to garnish and make them more appealing.

I had a better idea.

”Let’s shoot with beach-themed props”

”That’s a terrible idea,” said Zaakira immediately (who else).

I looked at her and frowned. I was going to stay professional.

”Wait, hear me out fully. Let me explain. Everybody associates the beach with fun and good food, right? And since it’s summer, it would be perfect for the season.”

There was quiet for a while whilst everyone thought about it.

”I think you may be onto something. I’m all for the beach-theme,” said Ahmed.

It was Zaakira who frowned now.

”Anybody have any other ideas?” Ahmed questioned.

Nobody said anything.

”All in favour of the beach themed background.”

We all raised our hand except for Zaakira. Not wanting to be the only one, she reluctantly raised her hand too.

”Then it’s decided. We shall meet here tomorrow to brainstorm discuss props and layout,” said Ahmed, dismissing us.

By that time Zaakira was openly scowling at me.

As we left the conference room, Ahmed congratulated me.

”The name’s Kay, is it not? Good thinking back there.”

”Thanks, I like using my brain just as much as I like using my PC. Only difference is my brain doesn’t get viruses and crash randomly.”

He laughed. ”See you tomorrow.”

I waved and headed back to my cubicle but was intercepted by the dark queen herself.

”Kay, I need to talk to you,” she said sweetly for the benefit of those who were giving us inquisitive looks.

Sigh. I might as well get this over and done with.

She led me to the bathroom. Shut the door.

Then looked at me with narrowed eyes.

”What the hell are YOU doing here?”

”I breathe here. Oh and eat and walk and sometimes take a crap. In this very same room. Which reminds me again, why am I here – in the craproom of all places – with you? Not thinking of seducing me, are you? Cause if you are, this isn’t the most romantic of places. And sorry, but you’re not my type. I prefer the male species.”

”Oh cut the crap Kay.”

”What do you think I’m doing here? I work here! Sheesh”

”And what was that all about back there? With Ahmed? How dare you try to make me look stupid in front of him?!”

”That was me having a great idea, something you seem to know nothing about. Don’t flatter yourself Zaakira. I know this may come as a huge shock to you, but everything isn’t about you.”

”Stay away from Ahmed. I’m warning you.”

”That isn’t your call. This isn’t high school anymore. I’m not afraid of you.”

That said I spun around on my heels and walked out.

At least that was what I was aiming for.

But my heel broke.

And I went sprawling on the floor.

Zaakira?!

Interning here?!

That wasn’t good news for me.

Zaakira was the bane of my high school existence. She was a plastic – one of those girls who thought they ruled the school. Face permanently made up. Never a hair outa place. Would never answer to her given name, she only acknowledged you if you addressed her as ”Zee.”

She was a typical mean girl. I think the mean girl movies were actually biographies of her life.

And she had it in for me. Why? because as Zaid’s girlfriend (at that time) she despised the fact that her boyfriend paid more than the bare minimum attention to me. Hated that we were friends.

So she did to me what mean girls do. She embarrassed me in front of pretty much the whole school.

During break time. She announced to the whole hall, ”hey everybody, check out Kay.”

Then one of her minions – who was standing behind me – promptly pantsed me.

Which was bad.

Because I was wearing white translucent underwear.

And I had gotten my period in school that day.

And my underwear was red-stained.

Safe to say that the entire school knew that I was ”expelling an unmade baby from my womb.”

How did she know that that was the day my panties would be messed?

I guess she must have heard when I had borrowed a pad from a girl in her class.

To say that I hated her would be putting it mildly. Zaid dumped her shortly after that. Took him long enough to realize that she was toxic.

She’s had it in for me ever since.

She was a pain in the ass in school and I sure hoped that the day she finished matric was the day I saw the last of her.

But then again, with the type of luck I’d been having recently, I shouldn’t be surprised to see her here.

Back to the present, I ducked down quickly and acted like I didn’t see her.

Luckily, Farzana took me to her dad’s office for orientation. Which I was the only one seeing as the other interns had started the week before.

My first assignment was writing a piece with the title, ”You are what you eat.”

Which wasn’t going to be easy, as I ate junk food like my life depended on it. The article was a chance to prove to Mr Vawda (Naasir’s dad) that I was cut out for this type of work. Mr Vawda made it very clear that the article had a very slim chance of actually making it into this month’s issue as they already had enough and more importantly, only articles of excellence made it into the magazines, however they would archive it and use it should they ever need a filler.

Thankfully, I was assigned a cubicle on the 17th floor, so I didn’t bump into Zaakira.

When I came home that day at half three (us interns only worked till three – thank god!) I was pooped. I walked into the house and I see Junior, Senior and Zaid sprawled in the lounge, watching cricket. South Africa and India were playing and the three of them were glued.

I grabbed a chocolate super-moo from the fridge and flopped down on the couch next to Junior.

None of then moved. Nobody acknowledged my presence. I was annoyed.

I poked Junior in the rib. He swatted my hand away and frowned, eyed still riveted on the TV.

”I”M HOOOOOOOME!” I sing-songed.

They shushed me and Senior turn the volume up.

Jeez, what does a girl have to do around here to get the attention of these people?!

I flopped back down and snuggled up with the couch cushion and within moments I was knocked out.

I woke to loud noises. I was disorientated.

looked around to see Zaid, Junior and Senior, screaming and cheering. Seems like South Africa had won. Big whoop.

When they finally quieted down, I addressed them.

”So, guess who is interning at Alive?”

”Dude! We all know you worked your first day there, big whoop, very proud of you,” said Junior.

”No, you doofus, I wasn’t talking about me. Zaakira is also interning there.”

Junior looked unimpressed. He didn’t know Zaakira after all,  he was too young to remember her.

But Senior and Zaid’s mouth’s dropped open. (Senior was in Zaid’s class so he knew Zaakira all too well)

”The same Zaakira? The bitch I dated?” Zaid asked.

”None other.”

”Yoh Kay, that’s hectic.”

”Hey, isn’t Naasir dating her now?” Senior asked Zaid.

Naasir and Zaakira?

Whaaaaaaaaat?!!!!

All That Is Kay Part Eight

I stared at my mother.

I was unable to comprehend what she was telling me. She knew that I was going to accept if they had said yes. But that was the problem, they didn’t say yes.

I did not anticipate this. Abdullah seemed so into me. Was it something I did? I said? Was I not pretty enough?

I was in shock. Luthfia put her arms around me and just hugged me.

It was as if I were living in a pretty colourful bubble and somebody took a nice sharp pin and pricked it.

Okay, I didn’t know the guy personally. But I spoke to him for long enough to fall for him. And these past few days I got more and more used to the idea of this guy being my ”other half.”

And having that thought bubble burst like that, well it came as a huge shock.

I guess I shouldn’t have made presumptions. I kinda just assumed he would just say yes. I never anticipated the possibility of hm saying no.

I felt miserable, the kind of miserable that even hot chocolate with marshmallows couldn’t fix. I felt rejected.

 

I wasn’t in the mood to finish watching the movie. I just wanted to sit in my room and be miserable. Thankfully, Luthfia was around to take my mind off it – at least until I fell asleep anyways.

Luthfia was a year younger than me, and was going to be in matric this year. She distracted me with recollections of some of the sillier people in her class.

There was this one girl, Ayesha, who was a constant source of annoyance to us. She was the kind of girl nobody liked – a goody two shoes. Everytime someone played a prank, she would moan and groan about how if they got caught they would be in soooo much of trouble.

One day, we decided to prank her – just for the fun of it. Ayesha was the type of person who was always making lists, taking copious notes and was always super organized.

We filled her pen with a special type of invisible ink that Senior (my older brother, remember?) had  ordered off the net. When you write with it, it retains it’s colour but it starts fading after an hour. The ink shows up again if you blast the page with heat (with an iron, or hairdryer).

She wrote with it for a whole day. The next day in the first class that she had, she started freaking out cause her notes that she had made yesterday, were gone! Her expression was priceless! like a fish blowing bubbles. She couldn’t figure out what happened to her notes. We let her sweat it out for a couple more classes, then we told her how she could get her precious notes back.

Well, safe to say, she didn’t find it even the  teeniest bit funny. Somebody needed to get that girl a sense of humour.

That prank, was all it took for her to ice me out for the rest of the matric year. Thankfully, that made things so much easier for me, as I was able to breathe and have fun without having the class goody two shoes ragging and nagging on me about getting caught.

The pranks we played were harmless pranks. They weren’t mean or hurtful, we just wanted her to loosen up a bit.

Luthfia obviously knew me too well. Reminicizing about this incident and recalling her expression made me much more cheerful. I may even have laughed a little.

I fell asleep that night, emotionally exhausted.

The next morning, I decided to change my whole mindset. I was going to be cheerful today and not let Abdullah taint my first day at  Alive. I had my mind made up. I was going to enjoy my day! (My theory was that if I told that to myself enough times, it would either come true or my subconscious would be brainwashed into enjoying the day)

So I made myself a breakfast that was fit for a king (omelette, tea and toast), changed into the clothes that Luthfia had helped me to choose for today ( Black formal pants, red dress shirt and a grey stonewashed sports coat) and was ready fifteen minutes before Naasir was due to pick me up.

As I got into the car, Naasir’s sister, Farzana, greeted me and asked me about myself.

I’ve never really talked to her before, but she seemed like a really nice person. She wasn’t like one of those people who pretend to listen to what you’re saying but are busy checking the weather forecast on their phones.

The drive was uneventful, and except for some small talk, I didn’t really speak to Naasir. Although he did butt into our conversation quite regularly, offering his opinion on whatever it is that Farzana and I were speaking about.

She promised to show me the ropes at the office and insisted that if I have any problems, I shouldn’t hesitate to ask her.

Again Naasir butted in, ”If you need help Kay, you’d be better off coming to me, I’m the one that’s less likely to shoot you.”

I laughed, but wondered if he really meant it, or was just being nice.

 

We arrived in the parking lot of a twenty story building. As we rode up the escalator, Farzana explained to me that  Alive magazine occupied the 16th and 17th floor.

As we got off on the sixteenth floor, Farzana pointed out four other people who were also working here as temps (temporary employees). Most of them I didn’t know. Then she pointed to a girl sitting at a cubicle, busy typing away at her computer.

”And that’s Zaakira. I’m sure you know her, she was also at your school, graduated same year as Naasir.”

I froze.

Could it be..?

I slowly looked at Zaakira. I recognized her.

Shit. My shoulders hunched in dismay.

This was not happening to me!

All That Is Kay Part Seven

Two days later, I was literally skipping down the street as my old school friend Luthfia and I walked from the coffee shop to the beach.

I was elated. Really excited. I was going to get married. Abdullah’s mom was probably going to phone tomorrow to confirm. tomorrow would be exactly one week since I met him.

Luthfia and I sat on the beach planning my wedding.

It would take place here, on the beach. Nobody would be able to wear shoes then. The thought of some of the girly girls my age who lived in heels going barefoot made me chuckle. Some of them had a phobia of other’s seeing their toes. I could never understand that.

We debated on what dress I would wear, the colour.

She was all for a big white concoction. I didn’t think so. I wanted something with colour, maybe red, or bronze..

We discussed food. Hmmm, definitely pizza and chow mein.

”Kay, you can’t have pizza at your wedding.”

”Whyever not?”

”Because it’s a finger food!”

We then launched into an argument about whether or pizza is acceptable food for a wedding. For the record, I think it is.

Luthfia then asked me about Abdullah.

”Well, he seemed smart. And he was really cute. you know Luthfia, I think he was flirting with me.”

We talked until the sun started setting. Then we packed up and left. We needed to get back before Maghrib.

I started work at  Alive tomorrow. So after Esha I decided to do some prep for. Luthfia was staying the night, so she said she’s help me.

Which basically meant that  me + Luthfia + popcorn + tall glasses of bubblegum milkshake =  a movie marathon, starting with Devil wears Prada – My all-time favourite.

Before starting the next movie on the list – Confessions of a Shopaholic – we decided to pack whatever I would need for tomorrow.

problem was that I didn’t know what I should bring.

So I messaged Naasir.

”You only need a pen and notebook. We have computers and other miscellaneous at the office. Oh and make sure to take lunch with you.”

Zaid then phoned me.

”Kay, you’re starting tomorrow? how’s the nerves?”

”Well, to tell you the truth I didn’t realize that I should be nervous until you mentioned it now. Thanks a lot Zaid.”

”You’re very welcome.”

”That was sarcasm silly. for your birthday, I should get you a book on recognizing sarcasm.”

”You’d be wasting your money cause the chances of me ever opening the thing is on the same level as pigs flying and candy raining from the sky.”

”Sheesh. You’re hopeless man. Gotta go now. Again, thanks for making me nervous.”

”That’s my job. Bye.”

Well, now I was nervous, thanks to Zaid. And on top of that I was going to be travelling with Naasir tomorrow.. Even though his sister would also be in the car (they’re both working for their dad at  Alive until campus starts) it’s still a pretty intimate situation. I had huge butterflies about that too.

I guess I still had a slight attraction to Naasir. I mean who wouldn’t be? He was tall, had soft floppy hair and the cutest smile.

But I wasn’t going to let Naasir affect me in any way. I was going to marry Abdullah after all!

At around half eight, just as Luthfia and I were starting the next movie, the phone rang.

I didn’t think too much of it. My mom would answer it.

A few minutes later, she comes into the lounge and pauses our movie.

The expression on her face was not unlike that of a person who just watched their cat get eaten by a dog.

”Kay, that was Aunty Rumaisah on the phone. They phoned to say that Abdullah said no…”

All That Is Kay Part Six

”Kay?”

”Yeah, I’m here. Sorry I spaced out there for a while.”

”No, it’s cool. So how are you?”

”I’m okay, tired I guess, I’ve had a long day.”

”I’ll get to the point. I told my dad about you and he called Mr T and spoke to him for reference. I’m guessing Mr T had only good to say as he told me to call you up and offer you the job.”

”That’s great. What do I need to know? When do I start?”

”Well, you need to come in next Monday and your employment terms are that after your first five articles, you will be evaluated and it will be decided from there whether you will stay on. You can go over the full contract on Monday.”

”Okay, that sounds reasonable. Let’s hope I don’t crash and burn.”

”C’mon Kay, you know you’re gonna be great. Welcome to Alive.”

Alive was the name of the lifestyle magazine that his father owned.

”Thank you, it’s an honour.”

”See you then. Bye.”

See me then? Was Naasir also working for his dad’s magazine?

 

I told my parents the good news the next day. They were a little worried as the magazine’s office was situated in the nearest city which was a twenty-minute drive when traffic was low.

I needed to find a lift club. Maybe I could phone Naasir and ask him if there was anybody from Mizonto travelling that way everyday. No, I didn’t want to speak to him, so I decided to just message him.

He replied almost instantly

”Sorry, but I don’t know of anybody who is, however I’m going to be travelling to and fro everyday until campus starts. You could always take a lift with me until you are able to find one. My sister is also going to be coming along so you don’t have to worry about being alone with me in the car.”

Wow. so I guess I would have to travel with Naasir until I found a lift. The thought gave me a thrill.

But I didn’t have any more time to worry about Naasir. What was I going to do about Abdullah?

I had an excellent idea.

Istikhaarah.

I made istikhaarah that night before I went to sleep, asking Allah (swt) to guide me.

I didn’t see anything in my sleep that gave me any indication as to what I should do. Well, I still had seven more days to go. I made istikhaarah again the next night.

Same result. I couldn’t help thinking about Abdullah the next day. What was he doing? Was he also making istikhaarah?

I kept picturing his smile as he laughed at something I said, his r expression when he dropped the teacup..

I wondered about him. He had a nice laugh.

On the fourth day, my istikhaarah proved fruitful. It was a yes. I had a good feeling about Abdullah.

I couldn’t believe it. But one thing was clear.

I was going to marry Abdullah.

 

All That Is Kay Part Five

I guess Abdullah was expecting some shy, non-vocal, yes-maam type of a girl. Well, the poor guy was in for a very rude awakening.

As his teacup clattered to the floor and broke, so did the noise level in the room. It was instantly quiet. Abdullah had turned a very interesting shade of red. Then my mother got up quickly saying that it’s okay, accidents happen whilst fussing over him and insisting I bring a towel for him to wipe down his pants. Which was ridiculous as he had hardly gotten any tea on himself.

He protested that he was okay, the tea didn’t burn him in the least and after a little bit more fussing it was time for us to talk alone.

Was I nervous? Well not really. A little bit. I don’t know!

So I sat across from him. He fidgeted with his fingers. I spoke.

” I’m sorry I made you drop your tea.”

He laughed. Well, at least he had a sense of humor.

”Haha, yeah, I sure wasn’t expecting that.”

”So what were you expecting?”

” Well, I’ve done this two times before and the other girls were too shy to even look at me properly. You caught me off guard hey.”

”As I said, I’m sorry about that. Well, actually I’m not sorry, but it’s only polite that I apologize. It was hilarious how embarrassed you were and given the chance, I’d definitely do it again. Your expression was totally worth it. No offence.”

He laughed again, harder this time.

”You’re a very spunky young lady. It’s nice that you have character.”

Was he flirting with me? I wasn’t sure. I’d best move on to safer subjects.

We chatted for a few more minutes about general things. He asked me about my hobbies.

”Well, I love reading. I can literally keep myself busy for an entire day with just books. There are many other hobbies that I have, but I can’t remember them right now. Would you mind if I got back to you after I’ve re-booted my brain?”

He seemed amused with alot that I said. I asked him whether he had any allergies. Don’t judge me. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember the questions that I had planned on asking!

He told me that he was currently living with his parents but was looking for a place of his own as he felt that it was time for him to become completely independant of their support. I thought that was really smart and responsible of him. Although he was probably mentioning it to subtly hint that I won’t be living with my in-laws, should we get married.

The conversation was easy flowing and smooth. We were chatting very comfortably. Surprisingly, there were no awkward pauses or anything of the sort. Who would have thought?

We were interrupted by my father, coming to let us know that our time was up.

I had maximum two weeks to decide whether I wanted to marry this guy. I was really REALLY confused. I mean I went into this day thinking for sure that I’m definitely not going to get married,  it’s just to make my parents happy. But he seemed like such a nice guy. What if when I am finally ready to get married and all the nice guys have been snapped up?

Do I get married, or do I not?

My phone rang. It was Zaid.

”So, how’d it go?”

”I don’t know Zaydee, he seemed like such a nice guy, we really clicked. I wasn’t going to even consider it, but now I’m not so sure.”

”Haha so you’re getting hitched. Should I go rent my suit?”

”No, don’t be silly. And can you quit kidding for one minute and at least try to help me out here.”

Predictably, he wasn’t able to offer any meaningful advice. Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with him.

Oh yeah.

Cause he’s a good company.

And he knows embarrassing stories about my childhood self.

And he makes delicious pancakes.

I decided the wise thing to do would be to sleep on it.

Later that night, just before I went to bed, my phone rang. The number was an unfamiliar number.

”Hello?”

”Hey, is this Kay? Naasir here.”

OMG. I was freaking out. Naasir was calling me. Wasn’t his dad supposed to give me a call?

Why was Naasir calling me?

”Hello? Kay? are you still there?”

All That Is Kay Part Four

”KAY! ZAID!”

I turned around to see who was calling me and almost died of embarrassment on the spot. It was Naasir, a guy who was in Zaid’s class. Who I used to have an embarrassing crush on. And worse part was that he knew it. I was naive and wore my heart on my sleeve back when I was younger. Zaid and Naasir were in matric, the hotshots of the school and I was a geeky friend of Zaid’s who wore braces. The fact that I had a crush on Naasir back then was pretty obvious and unfortunately, he acknowledged it and told me bluntly that I will always be his friend, but there will never be anything between us. That was pretty embarrassing for me, considering that I never wanted there to be anything between us. Sure I was capable of ahving a crush, but definitely not capable of doing anything about it. It had been a long time since I’d seen Naasir- almost a year- so seeing him now brought back the feelings of embarrassment that I had felt back then.

Zaid had heard Naasir calling him and turned to greet him with a hearty hug and handshake.

After chatting to Zaid for a few minutes, with me standing there awkwardly, occasionally adding in a word or two, Naasir turned to me.

”So, how are you Kay?”

”I’m good, alhamdulillah”

”Heard you had good results. Congratulations. So what you plan on doing this year?”

”Well, I’m not sure what I want to study, so I’m gonna take a gap year and figure it out. What have you been up to Naasir?”

”Well, I’ve completed first year medicine. Gonna be starting campus again next month. Aaaah I’m not looking forward to waking up early.”

”Oh so you wanna be a doctor huh? Pretty cool.”

”Well, it is difficult, but it does have its upsides. Especially dissection of human bodies. That was a blast!”

”Urgh Naasir! That’s gross! Kinda cool, but still gross.”

We chatted for a bit when Naasir mentioned that his dad was looking for interns for his lifestyle magazine.

”Hey, aren’t you a good writer? Mr T (our English teacher) was always telling our class about your essays. Why don’t you do pieces for my dad’s magazine? He’s been looking around for someone who can write.”

This sounded like something I would enjoy.

”That sounds like fun. How do I apply?”

”Give me your number and I’ll tell my dad about you and get him to contact you.”

Although I knew that the only reason Naasir wanted my number was so that he could pass it on to his dad, I still couldn’t help but feel a slight thrill as I called it out for him.

We chatted for a bit more and then bid farewell.

On the way home, Zaid kept teasing me about it.

”So, you and Naasir huh? Very sharp guy. He got your number without much hassle.”

”You and I both know Zaydee that it was strictly for professional reasons. Otherwise I wouldn’t have given my number to him.”

”Yeah keep telling yourself that Kay. Just watch where Naasir is concerned, okay?”

”Fine. Now concentrate on your driving before you get us all killed.”

 

The next day, my parents sat me down and gave me a lecture about why I should let this guy come and see me. I finally agreed, just so that they’d stop bugging me about it. They did say after all that if I don’t like the guy, all I need to do is say no.

The guy was coming next Sunday to see me. I wasn’t really nervous. It could be because I didn’t really expect anything to come out of it.

When Sunday came around, I wore my favourite pair of jeans and a purple minidress. I matched it with a turquoise and purple scarf. I looked pretty, but not overdressed.

I had made dessert (through my mother’s insistence). My brothers, who everybody calls Junior and Senior as they both have similar names [Hassan (the older one) was Senior and Hussain (the baby) was Junior] were in their element, teasing me about all the flop ups I could make..

”Knowing you, you’d spill tea all over him.”

”Burning hot tea. Haha Kay, please don’t give the bicharo fellow first degree burns. No matter how pretty you look, I don’t think he’ll be able to look past that.”

”Oh shut up.”

Anyways my older brother came to my room where I was reading a book, to tell me that they were here.

So, my grand entrance?

Wasn’t so grand.

It was the norm that I walk in when everyone was seated, serve everyone tea and we all chat for a bit. Then after, I get to chat to the boy for about twenty minutes without all the adults present.

So when I walked in, everyone was chatting about Nelson Mandela, and how it was so sad that he didn’t accept Islaam before he passed. Nobody really noticed that I had entered.

I grabbed the pre-laid tray of tea stuff and walked over to Aunty Rumaisah, the boy’s mother. She was the same aunty who phoned last week.

As I served her, she started talking to me.

”So you know my Abdullah, He finish study Bcom and now he’s working for an accounting firm. Such a pretty poiri you are and my Abdullah is very handsome too. Nice match your’ll will make. Grandchildren will be very cute…”

By the time I was done serving her, my cheeks were burning. I couldn’t serve everybody else fast enough. Ay, these aunties and the things they say.

When I got to the boy, Abdullah, who I served last, I looked at him properly for the first time. I was pleasantly surprised. Turns out Aunty Rumaisah wasn’t too far off the mark, he was really good looking.

When he looked up at me, our eyes met and I automatically did the first thing that came to mind.

I smiled shyly.

Then I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue.

My brothers were right about one thing. Tea was spilled at that moment. But it wasn’t me that spilled it.

Abdullah dropped his teacup with a stunned expression on his face, sending his tea flying in all directions.

All That Is Kay Part Three

I just stared at her.

”Kay, did you hear what I just said? They want to come and see you.”

”I heard mummy. But I don’t want to see them.”

”Well, it is your decision. But suggest that you let them come.”

”But mummy, I’m not ready to get married. Let alone finishing studying, I haven’t even started! I still need to decide what I’m going to sudy and then do just that!”

”But baby, you can also study after you get married. After all, you’re at your prime now. You aren’t getting any younger. You should get married if a nice proposal comes. Because once you get old, nobody will want to marry you.”

AAAAARRRRGGH! Typical guji mindset. It made me feel like screaming. But instead, like the obedient (when it suited me) daughter that I was, I nodded and pretended to agree.

I was mad! At that jalsa, I mentioned to whoever had asked that I was taking a gap year. Their reactions..?

”ooooh so you at home now?”

It doesn’t mean that just because I was taking a gap year (or in their words, ”at home”) these aunties could come bring their sons to come see me.

I needed to vent. So I phoned up my best friend who I’ve known since I was in nappies. Who, incidentally, is a boy.

So our society isn’t very accepting to boy/girl friendships. After all, it was wrong. A girl should never be friends with a boy that isn’t her mahram. But in my case, it was different.

My family and his have been family friends since before we both were born. So he (lets call him Zaid) is to me like the brother that I hardly ever fight with, my closest confidante. I’m not saying that our relationship is permissible. I’m saying that it was accepted by all which didn’t make it seem foriegn or strange.

Zaid answered on the fifth ring. I counted.

”e’lo”

He sounded like he’d just woken up. Oops.

”Zaid are you still in sleeping? Get your lazy ass outa bed. I’m coming over.”

”Are you insane! It’s half eight! I’m going back to sleep.”

”I’ll be there in an hour. If you’re not awake when I come I WILL slip an ice cube down your back. It’s important man.”

”Agh, fine.”

He muttered something about bossy females

”Bye.”

I changed, did my chores and then cycled over to Zaid’s house. Sadly, I did not have my drivers licence as yet so my means of transport was getting around on my bicycle. Which waas pretty safe considering that I stayed in a small town.

Zaid’s mother, Aunty Shameema, let me in. She is a really sweet lady who is always trying to feed me with ginormous amounts of food. It’s one of the reasons I love coming here. Aunty Shameema’s food is simply deelicious.

As soon as I entered through the kitchen door, she bustled about, removing her cupcakes from the oven and setting down some on a plate in front of me.

I got up and made myself a cup of tea. After all, of what use were cupcakes without tea to go with them?

I live on tea and there are very few poeple in the worls who can make it the way I prefer it. Unfortunately, Aunty Shameema is not one of them and it definitely wasn’t for lack of trying. It definitely irks her that whilst her baking and food is devine, I have difficulty downing tea she makes. Which is why she is always referring to my tea as ”gutter tea.”

After having my tea and sitting through a lengthly discussion with Aunty Shameema about how every single person in my house (including my cat and two goldfish) was doing, I went looking for Zaid.

I found him in the lounge playing FIFA. I really can’t understand why there’s such a big fuss about that game.
But it means ALOT to Zaid and my brothers (and so many other guys out there). I’m not kidding.

So much so, that when I was angry at my brothers for putting itching powder in my lotion, I deleted all the FIFA data that was stored on the playstation. They were hopping mad! So mad that they didn’t speak to me for three weeks after that!

I knew that Zaid wouldn’t really be listening to me, so I waited for his match to finish (he won, big whoop!) and then told him about my problem.

”Zaydee, they want me to get married.”

”Oh yay, Should I get my best man suit ready?”

”Zaid! I’m serious!”

”Whose the poor fellow? Should I warn him beforehand what he’s getting himself into?”

I smacked him on the head.

”Okay fine, fine, I’m listening.”

He didn’t exactly offer good advice.

”Just make sure you serve a lekker chow at the wedding okay?”

Well, I didn’t really come to him for advice. I just needed to vent and then get my mind off it. So Zaid proposed that we go out to the beach and get some ice cream. So off we drove (Zaid who was a year older than me not only had a licence, he also had his own car) with his younger sister and brother, who had also decided to tag along.

It was a really hot day. We hadn’t brought swimming clothes so we swam in what we were wearing. The water was ice cold and a welcome refuge from the burning sun.

I realized that I hadn’t applied sunblock that morning. My mother wasn’t going to be too happy about that. Indians tend to have this perception that the fairer you are, the prettier you are and better chance of you ”landing” a rich handsome husband.

In my opinion, that’s really twisted mentality, but what do I know? So although my getting a tan didn’t bother me in the least, I knew I was going to have to make up some excuse when I got home. Like maybe I was kidnapped by some evil scientist who gets a kick out of sticking people under sunblock penetrating tanning machines. Hmm, my story needed work.

We dug a really deep hole which we surrounded with sandcastles. By the time we were done, we were already dry. We bought ice creams from the milky lane on the beach and sat on the sand whilst we ate them.

And then I heard someone shouthing my name.

I turned to see who it was and wanted to shrivel up and die!

All That Is Kay Part Two

Well, there I was, sitting at the breakfast table, eating a bowl of all-bran flakes, complete with banana slices.. when the phone rang. I didn’t think much of it, and the caller ID displayed an unfamiliar number, so thinking that it was one of my dad’s calls, I answered with a mouthful of cereal.

Don’t get me wrong. My mom had instilled in me perfect manners.. It’s just that sometimes, I didn’t particularly feel like following them. Like today, at eight fifteen AM, when I was munching thorough my ”carboard cereal” (as some have named i t- wrongly, in my opinion) with half closed eyes and still mulling over the dream I had had last night.

I had dreamt that I was in an elevator with five different people, each of them staring at me like I had grown two heads. Now, when people stare at me, I tend to do strange things to get a reaction out of them, a reaction that isn’t a blank stare.

I remember once jumping on a public trampoline and this thirty-something year old Afriaaner lady, sitting on a bench was staring at me like I was crazy, so I blew her a kiss and started doing the macarena. She looked at the jumping sixteen year old who was doing the Macarena to no apparent music (me) with wide eyes for like two seconds, before getting up, shaking her head and muttering something barely audible to herself before stalking away.

Sheesh, some people really need to learn to lighten up. This world would be a much more interesting place if everybody indulged my weird tendancies. Or at least I think so.

So anyways, back to me at the breakfast table, there I was thinking about my elevator dream, where there were these five people, all staring at me strangely. And the elevator ride wasn’t ending. It just seemed to be moving on forever, after which, I woke up (thank god!).

As you can imagine, I wasn’t very impressed with that dream. So I start fantasizing about how it could have gone differently.
In the daydream about the dream (who does that?!) I summon my best batman voice (which I admit, isn’t very impressive, It sounds more like a gruff squeak, than a deep manly growl) and addressed them, ” Greetings earthlings. You have been selected to be the first to hear the good news. Aliens reside on planet earth posing as humans, and we have decided that the time has come for us to take over and rule your planet. Please be so kind as to inform all the other earthlings…”

”BRRRIIIIIIING”

The ringing of the phone interrupted my fantasy dream. Stupid phone. Oh well, might as well answer it.

”Yello” (you’ve got to remember that my mouth was still full of cereal)

”Assalaamualaykum, who is speaking?”

I dutifully said my name whilst trying to swallow down the last of what I was chewing. This call definitely was not one of my dad’s callers. They are usually abrupt and to the  point. This had to mean that is was some Aunty that would be sure to report back to my mom that I was chewing into the mouthpiece.

”Oh how are you darling? So, what you’re doing this year?”

”Jee I’m okay. I’m going to be taking a gap year. Maaf who is speaking?”

”Oh this is Aunty Rumaisah, you remember me from that jalsah last week?”

What the heck? There were so many aunties at that jalsah. But I’m guessing that she would be offended if I didn’t recognize her. So I took a guess…

”Jee, the one with the black cloak?”

”You DO remember! Anyways, is your mummy at home? can I speak to her?”
Hah! Nailed it! Although it baffles me that she doesn’t recall that EVERYBODY was wearing a black cloak at that jalsa. How does one miss that?

”sure, just one moment”

I called my mother to the phone and eavesdropped on her conversation as I finished my breakfast. She finally put the phone down and sat down opposite me. She had that look in her eyes, the one she gets when she’s about to have a deep discussion. I quickly took up my spoon and prepared to act indifferent. Because based on what I had heard, I was NOT going to enjoy this conversation.

”So this Aunty that phoned, they want to bring their son to come see you…”

All That Is Kay

Who is Kay, you may ask? Well, Kay is me.

When I was little, I couldn’t pronounce my full name (which for privacy reasons, will stay a secret.. but I can tell you this, it DID contain the syllable ”kay”).. Try as they might, my mom and dad could never teach me to pronounce it correctly. It stuck and right up until now, when I finally graduated high school, I’m known to all as ”Kay.”

Well, first things first, I am a muslim, gujarati girl; growing up in a house with two boys. No, I am NOT trying to imitate the blogging style of of diaryofagujigirl. I am merely blogging annonymously about my life. I’m fairly average when it comes to how I look. Sure, I’ve had plenty of guys hit on me in the past. That doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m hot. It could mean that my charming, dynamic personality caused an attraction to me. At least I like to think so. I sure hope that it’s not because guys would hit on anything that manufactures oestrogen. They couldn’t be that stupid now, could they? I mean certain animals have been known to produce oestrogen when on heat..

I grew up in a small town called Mizonto (well, it wasn’t really called that, That’s just the pseudonym I’ve given to it). Small town meant that everyone knew everyone. It was like gowing up with a whole big extended family, although, unlike real famalies, many were out to get you.. Waiting for you to flop up so that they could have something to talk about at their next gathering. Well, the devil in me gave them that… alot, but not in the way you think. Thing is, I was always obsessed with some crazy trend or another. A few years ago I bought a whole lot of different coloured buttons and glued them onto every item of mine. I’m talking about buttons on my shoes, buttons on my shirts, buttons on my furniture, buttos on my school stationery, I wore jewellery made solely out of buttons ( which I made by myself), and even once glued buttons to my hair using washable glue- which I admit, wasn’t such a great idea, considering how they had to be chopped off…turns out the glue was not so washable after all!

My point is that when I’m obsessed with something, it sometimes reaches such proportions that the whole town would be talking about it. But it’s lucky for me that the gossipmongers were too busy talking about what crazy antic I’m currently up to, to actually bother digging in my life for dirt. Because if they did, they would find it. And it wasn’t pretty.

My current dilemma that I’m having trouble navigating is the question of what I want to do with the rest of my life. Now that I’m FINALLY done with school, it should be pretty easy figuring out what I want to do for the rest of my life, right? Wrong! There are so many different fields that one could go into. And for a person like me, with many interests (art, language, science, and technology to name a few) the decision just becomes a helleuva lot more complicated. Do I sacrifice my scientific curiousity and study architecture? Do I study Language and give up the dream of creating a new form of contemporary art someday? Do I Study IT and forget about ever making a new scientific discovery that could change the way mankind thinks?

Yeah, I know, I know, big dreams for a small town girl, but haven’t you heard? Thesedays, it’s all about dreaming big, or going home. And the pressure put on a single child fresh out of high school, to immediately choose a career path is INSANE! I mean, seriously people, I just wrote the most stressful exam of my life, the last thing I want to think about is what I am going to be studying next year. So please stop asking me. Because I didn’t apply to any tertiary institution. Why, you may ask? Because I have decided to take a gap year.

A year to think about and fully explore my options and personality. That will help me decide what is exactly right for me, right?

Well, apparently not. Apparently, if you’ve finished school and decide to ”stay at home” (such a horrid term, people make it sound like prison, they sometimes say in in such a condescending manner that you feel like wiping that smug smile off their face with a well aimed punch) then it means you’re ready to get married.

And then you start receiving weird phonecalls…