A Mazed Heart (Rifa Fathma)

Episode 05. Death

The wind tickled his skin and fluttered his outfit as he inhaled a fresh gush of air. Birds chirped, hooted, and flapped their wings as they set off for the day. The comforting sound of soft but strong waves colliding against the shore made Mount Lufu a mesmerizing place for climbing. Snow coated the base of the mountain. Like some thick cream on bread.

With each step they took, their feet dipped down the white snow and came back, leaving a trail of their footprints behind. His body shivered a little, not probably because of the weather but the enthusiasm that he had been suppressing for this journey for a long time now.

It felt so good to sort his mind out amidst the chaos in the city. He was just tired of carrying around a huge mess in his head.

But now, the knots in his mind started untangling themselves. But this time around, they folded themselves with peace and joy.

It all started when Mr  Dawood took Haarim by his shoulders in a corner, when Yahya was stunned to see his uncle converse so fluently in Arabic with his teacher.

Ever since that heated conversation between the duo, Yahya had been sniffing the miff in the air. Like something had put a damper on the mood of everyone in City of Dawn.

Even at Dawn Academy, the teachers looked all stiff and terse. The silent whispers between the teachers would come to an abrupt halt the moment they see any student nearby. And the students were told off to return to their classes so that the teachers could fall back to their secret whispering.

Yahya was now used to the creases on the forehead of his uncle and aunt. Their eyebrows and lips that curved downwards had now become permanent. But when their eyes met with those of Yahya's, the creases would ease out, the curves straighten, and the warm glint rushes back into their eyes.

Even the conversation between him and Haarim had taken a swift turn now. It weighed more on the serious note and less on the casual ones. Haarim  would most often be inspiring him, training him to the fullest, talking about the importance of preserving the lives of one's country, and the beauty of Islam.

The way Haarim presented Islam and the way he talked so graciously about their Lord, blew his mind away each time. He had never met anyone who could have such a pleasant view on their religion.

He had always seen folks waving around a stick in their hands, eyeing others in disdain as they forge the regulations down their throats. It scared Yahya at times. Never had anyone ever brought out the beauty of Islam in front of him. Except Haarim, Heer, and of course, Mr. Dawood.

Mr. Dawood, the one whom Yahya called Ustaad now, was as usual. But sometimes, his gaze zoned in on an invisible dot as a faraway look took its place on the otherwise calm face and the sudden silence followed. Was even Ustaad bothered by something? Was it just a casual front he had on for the sake of him and Kamil?

And Kamil, that naughty little imp. He turned out to be one big prankster, always trying to pull his legs, bully him and whatnot.

Yahya missed the good old ambience in the city. He wasn't getting that vibe anymore. This put a damper on his mood too.

It didn't go unnoticed by Haarim.

On one fine day, He walked up to him, ruffled his brown hair, and pinched his flushed cheeks as he asked his take on exploring Mount Lufu. As if getting a chance to scurry out of the gloomy atmosphere, he desperately nodded off his head.

And so, they were now climbing up Mount Lufu in the City of Love as planned.

True to what he had heard about the city, as soon as he entered inside, a lively whizz of breeze passed through his face, his eyes widened, and his feet grounded to its spot. He was baffled by its beauty, dripping everywhere his gaze skipped to.

Unfortunately, they couldn't take a tour around the place because Haarim  had limited time before he went off to the border front. Plus, the place was super costly to begin with.

Hence, they planned to climb up the beautiful mountain over there and return home.

They first prayed Fajr and set off towards Mount Lufu. Morning and evening were always an ideal time to start climbing up the mountain. That, he was told by Haarim.

When Haarim said they were just going up a short distance, his heart dropped to his stomach. But deep down, he knew that his uncle was true when he told he was not yet fit enough to reach the summit.

About forty minutes later, Yahya stopped and grabbed his knees, sucking in a huge air. Alright, he gave in to Haarim. He couldn't climb to the summit just yet. So much for challenging his uncle. Huh!

"You alright there, Yahya?"
When he heard him taking breaths behind, Haarim stopped and half-turned towards him in concern. "We can stop here if you want."

"No." He was quick in his reply. "I'm fine." He said in between his breaths. When Haarim eyed him with uncertainty, he rushed to reason. "You said we will stop at the cherry blossoms."

The plan was to stop their climb once they reach the cherry blossom point. It was from there that the slope would be spread with cherry blossoms. Up until the summit. What set Mount Lufu apart is its snow-filled slopes and cherry blossoms. And he had his eyes on the pink little flowers.

"Are you sure? We still have about half an hour of climbing to witness it."

"We have come so far, Emi! I don't want to go back without seeing it."

He grinned appreciatively. "Okay."

After ten minutes, Yahya finally mustered up the courage to ask him. "Haarim Emi?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you call me Hayati?" Blood rushed to his already flushed cheeks as he put out the question in the air and Haarim gave him a surprised look.

He then smiled. "Don't you like it?"

"I do like it." His steps had now become slow and tired. Haarim was right beside him, restricting himself to his small steps.

The sun slowly raised its head from behind the horizon, breaking the dawn, shadowing its early light down the snowy mountain. But the low glint was still not enough to push off the darkness.

"But is there any reason you call me that?" He pursed his lips and duck his head low.

"I think of no reason. It just happens to roll out of my tongue."

He should give his brain a rest. He probably thinks a lot. Though, he was familiar with the meaning of some basic Arabic words, but literal meaning of Hayati had surely caught him off gaurd. Maybe, he was not at all expecting it.

"Do you know its meaning though?" Haarim asked.

"Yeah, my life." He stared intently at his feet. And then at his uncle's feet. How beautifully were they making their footprints on the snow?

He looked up at his uncle when he heard a low chuckle. "This is so surprising..." His lips dipped down in a sad smile. "Let it be climbing the mountains to reach the summit or climbing up the invisible ladder to reach our aspirations, we need hard work and strength. Loads of them."

"You see," he continued, looking at his feet with that sad smile still on his face as he spoke his mind off. "When we climb up the mountain, we come across a lot of turns and corners where we stay alert and conscious. A lurking fear comes to engulf us and choke us with fear. And we start dreading. What if our hands loosen? What if our feet slip? What if we stumble and fall from the top? This rattling feeling here is very scary. And it only comes when we are on the journey to the top. We don't get this weird red flags while getting down."

His hands shivered against the low temperature. His legs wobbled because of walking for so long. And his heart thumped hard against his chest. Yahya couldn't agree more with what Haarim just said.

"The same goes in every turn of our lives. Everyone is striving hard to reach up to their aspirations. Everyone is climbing an invisible ladder to their invisible goal, with a dreadful fear of falling and going back to square one. The fear of retreating to our old, abandoned life, my friend, is more horrifying than walking ahead in life."

And he knew that the conversation that followed would hold a serious notch from here on. But he was curious to know what his dear uncle had to share this time. He marvels at the perspectives of Haarim Emi.

"Yahya!"

He had to stop his climb at the way he called his name. He looked up at him. And by the look of it, Yahya knew his guess was right, a serious conversation was ahead of them.

It was like Haarim was trying to fill him in with everything he knew as if he would not get time to share them afterwards.

"I can see you embracing your goals with open arms in the life that lay ahead of yourself. I don't know why. But I think we have common grounds where you are capable of understanding me. Whenever I talk to you, I don't think I'm speaking to a child but rather my colleague. So, I want to tell you something." Haarim  turned away his head and looked ahead. His face broke into a beautiful smile and his brown eyes danced with childlike enthusiasm.

For a split second, Yahya caught a glimpse of Haarim which he didn't know he had. The childishness hidden beneath maturity, the deepness of a sea hiding the light wind of mountains.

Yahya followed his gaze and his heart came to his throat. The early glow of sunlight made its way into the darkness and fell upon the soft, swaying pink cherry blossoms. Yahya couldn't tear his gaze away from it.

"I truly believe that you will walk on my footsteps and strive for the things that I have strived for. I can see you squeezing yourself between the narrow tunnels to reach out to the light."

They had stopped when their eyes landed on the beautiful sight before them. They started climbing up once again.

"When you set out to do something good. The bad will stand up against you. Every evil will march together towards you to crush you down and break your spirit. Like the turns and corners in the mountain? That's why it is hard to achieve dreams. Had it been that easy to achieve dreams, every soul on the earth would have been fleeting with joy right now. But, no. To reach your goals, first, you have to slay the evil that is blocking your way. But sadly, most people easily drop themselves into the cobwebs of evil without any resistance."

The more they climbed up, the more apparent the cherry blossoms became.

"I believe in you Yahya. I'm sure it is you who will take the legacy down from me, who will be my forerunner. You are the apprentice I'm rooting for."

A deafening silence stilled in the flowing wind around them. His heart swelled with overwhelming bubbles of emotions. He was sure his cheeks would have become a permanent shade of pink.

"But why me?" He couldn't help but ask. "It can be your son too."

"Yeah, but..." He said, dragging out the first word. "We can not be sure that it is a son. Even if it is a son, I can not be sure of his heart's desire."

His head jerked back in surprise at his uncle's answer.

"There can be something entirely else that he would aim for. I can not shove my dreams down his throat and ask something out of him which he can not give me."

Yahya bit his lips, overwhelmed. His mind went back to the conversation his dad and Haarim had. He could never thank him enough for standing up for him.

"No matter which path he picks, my son will always find my shadow behind him." He added in a whisper but Yahya caught it. "God willing..."

The heavy conversation settled into the cold around them as they fell into silence.

"Anyway!" Now, they stood before the cherry blossoms scattered over the slopes leading up before them. Haarim knelt and affectionately caressed the pedals with his hands. The pedals went shy under his touch and turned around. "Have you come to know the meaning of your name?" He asked, without taking his gaze from the flowers.

"No." He too knelt and started touching the pedals. They were so soft against his skin that he didn't want to take his hands off them.

"It's Yahya-" Haarim twirled a cherry blossom and left it. It spun around before slowing down and coming to a stop. "The one who lives."

****

"A sibling?" His eyes widened and his jaw hung low, thinking of such a possibility. Will he get a brother too?

His mind spiraled back to when his friends shared the hilarious moments they had with their siblings. Faisal had once tried to scoop his 4-year-old brother in his arms. But he dropped him even before he fully secured him in his arms. They all chuckled and told him off to eat more if he wanted to hold his bubbly little brother.

A brought his shoulders up in enthusiasm. "Mum?" He smiled and caged his lips in between his teeth. "I will make him play video games. I will teach him archery. I will take him to the mountains."

He heard his mother chuckle on the other end.

"Mum?" He called her again, with a frown this time, when he thought of a strange possibility.

"Yes?"

"Will it be a brother or a sister?"

After a moment of silence, she asked. "Who do you want, Yahya?"

"A brother." He replied in a beat, not taking any time to choose and pick.

"I see."

"But what if it's a sister?"

"What if it's a sister?" She asked him instead.

"I don't want a sister." He scrunched his nose.

"Why?" Her voice hinted curiosity.

"Because..." Why didn't he want a sister? "...are all the girls so... boring?"

"What do you mean by boring?" She asked, amused.

"I mean," he waved a hand in the air. "Do all of them waste their time with dolls and castles and listen to fantasies?" Come on! There are more better things to do in life. Like, playing archery and climbing mountains. He rolled his eyes.

His mother went silent. Then she burst out laughing

His brows furrowed. "Why are you laughing?"

She tried to calm down before speaking. "Your aunt, Heer. She was rebellious as a child. She would turn the entire home into a hassle within the blink of an eye."

His eyes sparked getting to know this piece of information. He remembered her pulling the arrows and hitting the mark so effortlessly the other day. "She is smart."

"Yes, she is."

"You know, she too is going to have a baby." He informed her.

"Yes. Sibling goals." She chuckled.

"And you know, Aunt Maarwa is also going to have one."

"Aunt Maarwa?"

"Yes, Haarim Emi's younger brother's wife." Uh, how hard was it to explain the relations?

"Oh, Maarwa?" She said shockingly. "Maarwa is expecting? Since when?"

"It's an old news mum." He waved a hand. "I thought you already knew."

Just then he saw them through the window, just entering.

Maarwa wore a black t-shirt and blue denim jeans. She had pulled up her black cooling glasses over her head. Kabir stood beside her.

Haarim sauntered towards them and grinned at Kabir whose face lit up seeing him approach them. Yahya thought back to the night they had a heated argument. It seemed that the brothers caught up with their old selves.

Yahya eyed the way Kabir affectionately clasped the shoulder of Haarim, the corner of his lips curved up as he said something smugly.

A shiver ran down his spine as he stared at Haarim who threw his head back and laughed at whatever Kabir told him. He couldn't wait for his little brother to come out already.

It was a matter of time before Haarim went back to the army. Kabir and Maarwa had come to see him off before he departed.

Despite the lively ambience that surrounded Hijazi Manzil that day, there was a tinge of darkness that was luring at its corners. Anyone can sniff it in the air.

As he stood in the living room and stared at Haarim whose features were softened into a beautiful smile, little did Yahya know that it was the last time he would see the smiling face of Haarim Emaami.

****

He twirled a twig with his hands, his small fingers gracing the pricks and points of the brown stick. "Ustaad? Will Haarim Emi be alright?"

He was at Ustaad's. After Haarim Emi's departure, Yahya most often found himself in the house of Ustaad. He could now safely say that it had become his second home.

After their regular training and completing the day's Arabic Dars (lesson), they sat at the steps that led to the backyard. The sun was about to dip down the horizon, taking its dimming glow along. The evening breeze came and played with the tassels of their clothes and messed with their hair.

"Of course, he will. Your uncle has a will of iron and a soul of steel," said Dawood. "A petty war between two countries is not enough to drag him down."

"But why is it then Aunt Heer is stressing over his safety so much?"

"Because she is going through a tough phase in her life." He shook his head. "You won't understand, kid. Carrying inside a small human being is not an easy job."

Yahya pursed his lips, unable to form any sentence.

One of the reasons that Yahya kept coming back to Ustaad was to find peace. Peace that was slowly slithering away from Hijazi Manzil. Peace that he no longer saw in the otherwise chirpy face of his aunt.

But he knew why Heer was crying like anything and creating a mess out of everything. Sometimes she would shout at the person on the other end of the call.

He also knew why almost every single person in the City of Dawn was at bay, holding themselves up before the storm arrived. Counting seconds for the bomb to tick off and explode.

Yahya didn't like the feeling. The bad smell. Like something was soon to go off. Haarim had been keeping all of them together. Now, they were clueless to pick themselves up.

How easy was it for his dear Emi to ward off the dark cloud with his warm, brilliant smile and calm, soothing words?

But he would have never thought that Haarim  would sit him down and let him in about such a huge secret.

Before Haarim parted for his work back at borders, he opened the door to the secret that had everyone so worked up lately. Here was what he told him:

A Kape was no one but the ruler of a country. Hashim Jilani, the Kape of Aurora was never the pious one, to begin with. He had his own share of political, cunning, and evil ways of handling things out until recently when Islam happened to him. Ever since then, he started putting his power and position to good use. The ever-so-ruthless ruler suddenly became kind and empathetic. What he saw in the religion, he wanted to reveal it to the rest of the world, having himself pleased and blessed to have such a blessing. Or maybe it was because he had become God-fearing that propped him up to share the good that he had just experienced.

He started sending out letters to each one of the rulers of other countries, asking them to accept Islam after a bit of exposing its beauty. If a Kape accepts Islam, then his entire people will follow his lead. It was a win-win strategy. To target the central hub directly rather than going towards bits and pieces.

But what Hashim Jilani saw in Islam, the other Kapes failed to witness. Instead of ignoring his letters, they started attacking Aurora. Both to conquer the land and to put a lock on the lips of Hashim Jilani.

But Hashim Jilani remained patient and waited. He believed they would come around at the end. But how wrong he was. Their tortures reached to such an extent that they started tormenting the Muslims of their own country.

That was when Hashim Jilani stepped up and warned each one of them. Time to come out of the shadow and show his true spirit and strength. He was not someone to back down when someone attacked his people. Muslims from his country or not, they were his people.

Among all of them, the Kape of Duskaz was the most cruel as Aurora and Duskaz shared the border. Because of this, there had always been a friction between the two countries.

Kaz Denzel was the Kape of Duskaz. And the strong enemy of Hashim Jilani. When the latter sent his ambassador over to Kaz Denzel to warn him not to torture the Muslims, Kaz responded by sweeping the head of the ambassador.

That was it. The last straw that broke with this response. All hell broke loose between the countries. Tormenting the Muslims and snatching their rights to practise their religion was grave enough of a sin, killing the ambassador became the icing on the cake. And Hashim Jilani called up for a war.

Though getting the ambassador killed was only the push that Aurora needed, the major reason behind going up for war was to put a full stop to all those tortures and deprivation that the Muslims were facing in Duskaz. It was to liberate them and break them free from the clutches of their ruthless king by breaking him apart.

That was why Haarim had to leave early. To join the war. Aunt Heer clung to him to death at the time of his departure. Haarim held her close, caressed her hair, and whispered soothing words in her ears which relaxed her posture a bit.

He then turned towards Yahya and knelt to his level. They had a moment for themselves with Haarim whispering and him giggling.

Soon, it was time for him to take his leave. He lovingly tipped his nose and said. "Bye." He rose and turned around to leave but stopped when he felt a slight tug at his little finger. He turned back and saw Yahya holding him back from going away.

He had curled his little finger around that of his uncle's, grounding him in place. He craned his head up to see his uncle for the last time, his blue eyes filling up with tears. "Don't go." He pursed his lips, pushed back the tears that sat at his throat and said. "Please."

Haarim stared back at Yahya, his brown orbs circling with a whirlwind of emotions. By the way his brows knitted together, his eyes flicked bizarrely, and his lips set open, anyone could notice that he was having an inner battle of what to say, of what his last words should be.

But then, he just sighed and ruffled his brown hair. For the last time. "I will be right in front of you within the blink of an eye." He winked to ease the tension in the air and turned away.

Yahya silently stood in the courtyard of Hijazi Manzil and saw Haarim setting off. Unaware of the fact that it was the last words he had just spoken with his dear uncle.

****

He blinked his eyes rapidly to clear his vision and took huge heaps of gasps. The dark sky had opened its gates and the rain gushed down with full force. He found it very hard to breathe. His taste buds tasted the salty raindrops. Or was it the tears?

A wail escaped his lips as he rubbed his bloodshot red eyes with his sleeves. He stumbled unkempt times under the moist mud. But he wasn't stopping.

There was a time in his life when Yahya marvelled at the beauty of Hijazi Manzil as it stood with all its high and glory. From its curves and stones to the warm and lively ambiance that it beheld within it, to the lovely people that resided.

Not even in the wildest of dreams would he have thought that one day, the same Hijazi Manzil would cut him deeply with those sharp curves and pelt him with stones as he scurried away from it.

Never had he ever thought that someday, its warmth and liveliness would take the form of a monster, haunting and ghosting him wherever he went.

And it was the least of his expectations that its lovely people who made his life bright and meaningful just with their presence would suddenly be gone and the home would fall silent and deserted.

He was afraid to close his eyes even for a second. Because if he did, the image of Haarim flashed in front of him.

His brown eyes that used to soften when they fell upon him.

His brown slanting hair that fell on his forehead.

His wide, warm smile that soothed his soul all the time.

And his habit of ruffling his hair.

He shut his eyes in pain as more and more sobs escaped his lips.

He turned many corners, heedless to where he was going. He just wanted to be as far away from that place as possible. The scene scared him to death. The look of pain on Heer's face as her eyes went lifeless, he could never brush it off from his mind. It was to be forever etched in his memory.

He knew any sane boy in his place would have rung someone up, his parents maybe. He had to inform someone about the two souls that took their leave from the world that day only to never return. He had to inform someone that on the very same day, their child had stepped into the world only to live without the shadows of his parents over his head.

He stopped in his tracks.

"You will have my son. Make him your brother."

"No matter what path he picks, my son will always find my shadow behind him."

"If it's not me, then at least, he would count on you," as if to confirm, he added with a smile. "No?"

His breathing became heavy, as he stood there alone in the late night. How could he leave him alone? What if something bad happened to him? What if he gets afflicted by the same fate as his parents? Will he ever be able to forgive him?

The horror of what he had done hit him hard. He stared ahead with his eyes wide. Bad thoughts started whizzing around his head.

He fisted his palm. The thought of going back into that place put him into a frenzy. It scared him to death. He couldn't go back, nope.

He was still breathing hard. The rain was still as harsh as before. He was afraid to go back. So many what-ifs and buts were cuffing his feet from retreating. He was a whirlwind of emotions.

He looked around his surroundings. Where had he come?

He was in the middle of a road that was surrounded by fields from either side. A shaky but relieved sigh escaped his lips as his eyes landed on the house right in front of him.

His heartbeat slowed down as he ran towards the house. That was the first home he would have liked to step into after what he had seen back home.

It seemed Ustaad was fast asleep. He couldn't even prop his eyes open when he opened the doors. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out the face at his doorstep through the darkness.

His eyes instantly widened with shock as he saw none other than his young student standing in front of him. He quickly ushered him inside and shut the door.

He knelt before him and asked him something. But Yahya was too numb to pay attention let alone answer his questions. He just wanted to hide below huge piles of pillows and blankets.

"Oh boy, you are catching a fever." Ustaad was about to rush into one of the two rooms in the house when the door of that room opened and in came the last person Yahya wanted to face.

Kamil.

He was in his night suit. His hair was in all directions. He had probably woken up due to the commotion outside and had decided to give them a check. Sleep went flying out of the window as his eyes bulged out when he saw the figure of Yahya at his grandpa's at such an untimely hour. He looked him up and down, taking in his dishevelled state with his jaw hanging low.

When Ustaad shouted at him to bring some of his clothes for Yahya, he quickly ran back into his room. He came back within a few minutes with a pair of clothes.

Ustaad made Yahya sit in one of those couches and asked him to change quickly. He felt Ustaad's firm grip on his head as he started rubbing his wet hair with a towel.

Once changed into dry clothes, he bowed his head down and sat silently. Sobs were still escaping his mouth, tears were still flowing down his cheeks, and his mind was still in Hijazi Manzil.

He could feel the two pairs of eyes boring into the side of his head, waiting for him to start giving them the reason behind his sudden and unexpected visit in the dark.

Ustaad finally decided to proceed with the questioning. "Yahya, look over here."

He didn't.

He felt the fragile but firm hand of Ustaad on his shoulder. "Look at me." Yahya never saw him using that tone on anyone before. Warm and soft.

He forcefully raised his heavy lids and saw the worry lines on Ustaad's forehead.

"Now, you are going to tell me what has happened in Hijazi Manzil and I'm going to see if I can do something about it, understood?"

He stared at how Ustaad's lips were set in a determined line. Could he fill him in about it?

His lower lip shivered and his eyes started filling again. He shook his head and ran to Ustaad's room and locked the door behind him.

He fell face first on the bed and cried. His sobs were muffled under the pillow.

Ustaad started banging at the door. "Yahya, what kind of a behaviour is this?"

"Yahya, open the door right this instant!"

Yahya chose not to reply. He had lost his voice after what he saw back there. Every time he opened his lips to say something, tears sat on his throat, blocking his voice to come over. And he ended up sobbing even more.

There was silence on the other end for some time before Ustaad said. Slowly. Like he was afraid that what he was guessing might be the actual reason behind his appearance. "Is Heer alright, Yahya?"

Yahya remained silent.

"Yahya!" He banged the door again, loudly this time, like he kicked the door from his leg with frustration. "Yahya?"

That was the last time Yahya heard him shout before silence took its course on the other end. He didn't know why Ustaad went silent all of a sudden. He wondered if he had gone to check Hijazi Manzil by himself.

He didn't know for how long he stayed like that. The good old memories he had shared with Haarim and Heer in the due course of the few months he came to know them went on a loop in his head. The last thing that flashed in his mind before he fell asleep was the smiling faces of the two people he held close to his heart.

****

The first thing he heard when he woke up was sobs. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he took in his surroundings.

He was in Ustaad's home.

They died.

The baby was born.

He was a boy.

Who is sobbing?

He turned his head around at the sound just to find none other than Kamil sulking on a stool beside the bed. He could only see his black curly hair as his head hung low. His small shoulders constantly shook and small sobs filled the air.

Yahya continued to stare at him. Was he the same Kamil he had known for all these days? The same Kamil with a naughty grin who didn't stay still for a minute. The same Kamil whose eyes would glint mischievously when he looked at Yahya as he plotted to pull some pranks on him. The same Kamil with whom he always fought and bantered.

Kamil raised his head and wiped the tears off his eyes with his sleeves. When his eyes lay on Yahya who was wide awake and was staring back at him, he was baffled. He looked away, his ears turning pink.

He sniffed to inhale the wet breath and returned his gaze towards him. "Sorry if my presence rattled you from sleep."

"What do you know?"

Kamil was taken aback by his question. His eyebrows drew together. "Sorry?"

"Why were you bawling your eyes out? What have you come to know?"

He sighed and looked down at his hands. "For the same reason you were bawling your eyes a while ago." He looked up at him. "And I came to know what you know. Why didn't you say anything?"

He looked away and stared at the roof. "Where is Ustaad?" He just realised how hoarse his voice sounded.

"Don't expect him to be at home after what happened." His voice was coated with pain when he uttered the last part.

Silence took over between them. And in that moment of silence did Yahya realise that he was not the only one who knew now. Everyone knows! He felt like a bag of burden was slowly lifted off his shoulder.

Kamil sighed in grief. "He was his favourite student, Yahya." His eyes became watery. "And my only favourite uncle." He couldn't able to say anything further as his voice quivered.

Yahya noticed he didn't want to break down again in front of him. He ran out of the room leaving Yahya behind. He sighed and stared up at the roof once again. The corners of his eyes started filling with tears.

After some time, when he came out, Kamil was nowhere to be seen. It was still dark outside. Perhaps, he dozed off for an hour or two.

He peeked around, searching for Kamil. At this point, he found Kamil to be the only source of comfort. Who would have thought he would go out searching for comfort in Kamil?

His eyes stopped at the steps that led to the backyard from the back of the home. Kamil sat on the steps, his head tilted up at the sky. His back was facing him. A hot steaming mug of milk was placed beside him on the floor. Maybe he was expecting him there. Yahya went towards him, peeked in from behind, and saw Kamil holding his cup of milk with both his hands. Yahya eyed the other cup on the floor. It was for him, no doubt. He was touched by his small gesture.

He silently grabbed the mug and slumped beside him facing the backyard.

The darkness was at its edge on the sky. The stars twinkled brightly. The moon glowed amidst them. For the first time, he failed to find comfort in them.

"What's the meaning of your name?"

Yahya lowered his gaze, his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped the lump that followed. His mind went back to the time when he and Haarim Emi climbed the mountain when the latter let him in about the meaning of his name. His wet eyes glistened with despair and longing. He longed to go through it all over again. He longed to go back in time and hug his uncle and never let him go.

He turned his head to look at Kamil who was gazing up ahead. "You first." Yahya realised it was probably the first civil conversation between them.

"Kamil. Complete. Full," Kamil said, his voice was like a feather. He flicked his eyes away from the sky and looked at Yahya. "Your turn."

Yahya looked up at the moon. It glimmered amidst the darkness that tried to encompass it. He kept looking at the way the moon had reached its completion. Complete, full, Kamil. "The one who lives."

Kamil scoffed beside him. "Everyone lives. I thought it would be something special, unique like my name."

He looked at Kamil as he mocked him. So much for thinking about civil conversations! Had Kamil told this to him yesterday, or this morning, he would have taken offence. But now? His heart clenched tightly and his eyes turned red.

Everyone lives!

His heart was beating, alright. His lungs were breathing alright, his body was warm, alright. But why couldn't he find his soul? Where did he lose it? Why was he feeling empty inside.

Why was his heart throbbing? Why was his breathing uneven? Why was his body burning? Had they become restless? Or had they become disobedient as there was no soul to keep them in check?

And why did it feel like everything around him was closing down, coming to a stop? Why was it that even though he was breathing yet dead at the same time?

He took a sip from the mug. The warm milk flowed down his dry throat. "How did you heat it?" He was sure his height couldn't give him the privilege to heat on the stove.

"Kettle."

"And...?"

Kamil side-glanced at him. And sighed. "Grandpa called up to inform me that Uncle Haarim was sacrificed on the battlefield."

"And...?"

He sighed again. Like he couldn't find in himself to repeat what he had heard over the phone. "And your Aunt hanged herself."

Yahya went silent. He stared at the fresh green grass swaying under the wind. All the pent-up emotions he was hiding inside started resurfacing. His body temperature started rising. He realised he had a fever. But that was the least of his concerns right now.

Why did he have to ask him?

Maybe he had needed some sort of confirmation. Seeing the death wasn't enough for him to believe the truth. Now that someone verbally told him that they were dead for good, his ears burnt hot taking in the truth at last.

That was when the phone started ringing from somewhere inside the house.

Kamil's eyes widened as he looked at him. "It must be Grandpa." He quickly kept his mug down and ran inside the house.

Yahya could hear him conversing over the call before he heard his footsteps coming quickly towards him. Yahya's heart started beating fast. He wondered what would Ustaad have to say to Kamil.

He looked up at Kamil who had a phone in his hand. He looked down at him curiously. "Your mom."

His throat instantly clogged up. He desperately took the phone from Kamil's hand and brought it close to his ears.

"Yahya..." She was crying. Her voice was wet and painful.

Yahya tightened his grip on the phone and opened his mouth but closed. Words failed to come out of his mouth.

"Yahya. Are you listening?" She sobbed. "Yahya, Jaanem. Don't you worry! We are on the way to City of Dawn."

He closed his eyes and the tears started flowing down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, my dear. It is going to be okay, I promise. We will be there in any minute. Hold on to yourself. I'm sure they are in a way better place than they had been."

That was when he broke down. "Mum!" A sob escaped his lips. "Please take me from this place. I don't want to stay here anymore."

Her mother was consoling him. She was telling him not to worry, that they were coming, that they were on the way, and that they would bring him back home.

Who would have thought that a single night was enough to topple over his childhood?

Who would have thought that a single incident would turn his life upside down?

Who would have thought that the City of Dawn would become the death of Yahya Amaanay?

****

So far, the longest episode from this book. And finally, the childhood of Yahya Amaanay comes to an end with this episode.

Which means, you will be seeing the adult version of him from the next episode.

Hold onto your arrows ;) and don't forget to drop your thoughts!