Zayan was homeschooled. He didn't attend school after the age of seven when his mental health began to worsen. So he never got chance to make friends. His father and brother were his only friends. And of course, his white cat whom he named Hoor jokingly. So he had spent a lot time home, playing with his cat and pursuing various hobbies. But painting was his favourite. So he chose to pursue fine arts.

And at that moment he felt proud of himself when people were admiring his art pieces in the art gallery. The exhibition was a success. An old patron had bought his painting for one million rupees.

But a certain girl caught his attention. She looked like her, the girl who saved him. She was wearing a pale yellow dress, her dupatta was clinging around her neck and her long jet black hair kept open. He walked to her and caught her attention, “Excuse me, miss.”

She turned around and yes, it was her. Her eyes widened in recognition,“Hello, Mr Zayan, good to see you healthy and fit. Oh, I don't think you remember me.” She smiled and shook her head.

“No, I do. I wasn't exactly unconscious.” He was looking at her with much concentration. Zayan was taking in her beautiful features, not wanting to forget them again.

“Oh, I hope the injury is healing well.” She pointed at the bandage on his head.

“It's healing.” He nodded, “Why were you carrying a gun that night?”  It's been five weeks to that night. But he was still curious about her reason to carry a gun with herself. Though it was obvious. Safety.

“Actually, I always carry a gun with myself whenever I travel at night. For safety purpose.”

“Oh, it just seemed unusual. I mean, it's not America were people carry guns everywhere.”

“Right. By the way, that painting had signature of Zayan Shabbir at it's bottom. Are you the artist?” She pointed at the painting hanging on the well. It was depicting a stormy night.

“Yes, it's my work of art and some seven other paintings too.”

“Hmm, interesting. You do look like an artist.” Her remark made him smile.

“What's your profession though?” He asked.

“I have a degree in Home Science and write articles for magazines. Otherwise, I am my elder sister's nanny.” She joked at the end. But she was being honest. She really was Hoorain's nanny in some sense.

“Oh, great. I think we will make nice friends.” He put forward his hand for a handshake.

“I think so as well.”  She accepted the handshake with a friendly smile.

“Hooriya...” They heard a voice.

A guy came and stood next to her. Zayan realised that he hadn't asked for her name. But she had a nice name. Quite similar to his pet cat's.

“Zayan, meet my cousin Rizwan Shah. And Rizwan, he is Zayan Shabbir.” Hooriya introduced them to each other.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Zayan. But, Hooriya, how do you know him?” Rizwan asked her but Zayan replied to him.

“She saved me... in a car accident few weeks ago.”

“We met just today after that night.” Hooriya added.

“Alright.” Rizwan nodded in understanding.

“Umm, I should take my leave. Nice to meet you, Hooriya. And Rizwan.” He smiled walked away. He really wanted to exchange numbers with her but her nosey cousin interrupted them. And he wasn't getting good vibes from that Rizwan.

He just hoped for some miracle to happen. He really wanted to talk to her again.

💘💘💘

When he had prayed for a miracle, may be God misunderstood his pray. For God send another storm to stir up his sanity. Exhibition was over. Everyone was getting into their cars. Zayan too was standing next to his car. However, he didn't want to take risk. Storm and rain were his worst enemies. Storms give him panic attacks and rain gives him amnesia. The sun was setting. Oh, he was already having a panic attack.

But then he saw a ray of hope. Hooriya and Rizwan were heading towards a car. He immediately called for Hooriya.

“Hooriya!”

She turned around, so did Rizwan.

“Yes, Zayan?” She asked.

“Can you please drop me home?” He requested.

“Mr Zayan, you do have a car. Then why ask for a lift?” Rizwan asked, quite insensitively.

Zayan kept quiet. He didn't want to tell that jerk about his panic attacks.

“I have no problem. You can come with us.” Hooriya smiled.

“Thanks.” And they headed towards Hooriya's car.

Zayan was quite surprised to see that Hooriya was driving. Rizwan was sitting on the passenger's seat while he was sitting at the backseat.

Maybe it was his luck that Rizwan's house was only fifteen minutes away from the art gallery. He couldn't help the sigh that left his lips when that jerk left.

“Umm, Zayan, you can sit in the front now. You have to give directions of your residence too.” Hooriya said and Zayan nodded before moving to sit on the passenger's seat.

“So now that Rizwan is gone, would you tell me the reason why you chose not to drive.” She asked him while focusing on the road ahead.

Zayan looked at her quite surprised, “Storms trigger my panic attacks. That accident too happened because I got a panic attack while driving.”

“Oh, wise choice. Is it left turn or right?” She asked the direction.

“Right.”

“Why do you get panic attacks?” She asked curiously.

“My mother had died in a car accident on a stormy night. I was in the car too. I spent an entire night with her dead body in the car.” He told her without any hesitation.

“How old were you?”

“Five.” He saw the horror on her face. Her face paled and she immediately parked the car at a side.

Hooriya took the water bottle from dashboard and gulped down the water. The information was overwhelming. Just listening to his trauma made her panicky. She couldn't imagine how he would be coping up with his trauma.

“Take deep breaths, Hooriya.”  He told her. Hooriya complied and began breathing deeply. After few minutes, she got a bit normal again.

“It's overwhelming.” She sighed.

“It is,” He continued,“Are you alright now?”

She nodded,“Yes,” She ignited the engine and began driving again.

“By the way, what's with that Rizwan?” Zayan asked her. The question itself made it quite clear that Zayan didn't like Rizwan.

“He... wants to marry me.” She told me hesitantly.

“And what about you?” He asked curiously.

“No way in hell I will marry that idiot.” She chuckled and Zayan too laughed at her reaction.

“Good. You are smart.”

Hooriya gave him a mysterious look,“Are we close to your house?”

“Almost there.” He looked ahead.

“Hmm.” She hummed and kept driving. Ten minutes later, the car stopped in front of Zayan's residence. He stepped out of the car but then turned around.

“By the way, I put my contact number in the dashboard.” Saying so he quickly turned around and walked inside his house.

Hooriya gaped at him. She opened the dashboard to find a tiny card in it. It had his number printed over it after his name. She smiled and kept it inside her purse before driving back home.

“Quite straightforward, Mr Zayan Shabbir. I like it.” She mumbled to herself with a smile.

•••

Question: What will be your reaction if a handsome guy wants to be friends with you? 😜

•••

I went to Amritsar today. And saw a grown woman wearing a frock inside the Gurudwara. As I mentioned she was a grown woman easily around twenty five. And I seriously dislike the fact that tourists treat Harimandar Sahib as a tourist attraction. Stop calling it Golden temple, because that gold means nothing to the community. And weeks ago similar incidents had happened in a Jain temple as well when it was declared as a tourist attraction by the government.

So it's a humble request that if you ever visit Harimandar Sahib (not Golden temple), please choose to wear a suit or pants and t-shirt only. Because it's a shrine, not an Instagram-worthy spot.