"After months of relentless dog-work, the community welfare society of IBSA can sit back and drink some well-earned Pakola! WHAT A FANTASTIC ANNUAL CONCERT! Atif may have been the star, but the real credit goes to all the organizers and volunteers, for managing to raise 5 Million Rupees for TCF Primary School! Here's to a tiny step towards the Second UN Millennium Development Goal (Those of you who don't know what it is, ought to re-evaluate your Economics grade!)..." Nitty Gritty-(Issue No: 770, Dec '14)

"Oh My God! What have they done to our football ground!" Syra squealed beside me. I grinned as the concert set-up caught my eyes. The open-air stage was huge! smoke machines, disco-light panels, and floodlights surrounded the metallic black-drop. Huge LCD screens were supposed to display a live feed, but were currently flashing through song-lineups and Atif Aslam's old concert shots. A DJ was fiddling with trance music as a pre-event filler.

We were early, as per Azaan's instructions. He wanted us to grab the best area first. I found him helping the security guys set up ticket check-points and stage fences. He waved us over to the left corner underneath the stage.

"You showed up! awesome!" He grinned at me. "This is your first concert right?"

I scratched the red bandanna securing my hair back. "Does backstage for Dave Matthews Band count?" I remembered this time a few years ago, during our UK trip to visit Maria, when Zaif snuck me with him. Naturally I panicked when I saw the crowd, and he had to sit backstage with me until Mama could pick me up. To his credit, my brother never uttered a single protest at my ruining half of his concert.

"No it doesn't count."

"Hmm. well, then, YES this is my first time!" I laughed nervously. I hope I'm dressed right for the thing. Maria hand-picked my ensemble, so it isn't my customary loose shirts, and track-pants. My delicate cream lace-shirt, is paired with distressed jeans, and a black leather jacket. The bandanna, and ankle-boots were also her idea. I mentally filed this entire look under, Motorbike-bipolar-princess-chic.

I miss my cashmere.

Azaan's phone started ringing, and he excused himself. Syra and I stayed together, as we waited for others to show up one by one. Syra introduced me to some of her Liberal Arts friends, and I realized how much I missed Pareeshae's comforting presence. The concert area slowly started filling up, and the DJ's mood shifted to techno, as the night darkened. The speakers were a dozen feet away from our spot, and I could feel the beat course through my entire body. It's weird, and there's probably a scientific explanation for the way that my heart seemed to be beating in time to the beats. It reminded me of another time. Our basement. My brother. A band. And drums....

"Guys, guys! I want you to meet someone!" Azaan's voice broke into Asadomer's debate about how stoned Atif was going to be tonight. He was grinning ear to ear, his arm slung around a slightly older, tall dude. The dude was on the skinny side, kind of dorky-looking adorable. They were followed by a cute-short girl with chin-length dark hair. She grinned at us and waved in greeting. She was barely an inch taller than me, even with her heels.

"This is my cousin Ali, and his wife Adiba!" Azaan gestured at the cute couple. "Ali graduated in 2010, from here. He is living proof, that IBSA doesn't completely suck your soul in four years..."

"Salam everyone! It's so weird meeting people who admit that this animal is their friend. I swear, Atif was just an excuse to see all of you." Ali joked, as he slapped Azaan's back. They engaged in a friendly punching match, as Adiba laughed with us.

"So, you're an Atif fan?" Syra asked Adiba.

"I. LOVE. ATIF!" She replied earnestly, as her husband rolled his eyes. "I swear, the second I saw Azaan's facebook post about this concert, I was like, 'Ali, you have got to take me there, or so help me I'll get arrested trying to gate-crash this thing!'..."

"Imagine what it would do to my reputation, having a wife with a criminal record..." Ali shook his head thoughtfully, "Money cannot buy that kind of street-cred you know."

We quickly fell into comfortable chatter with them, as we waited for the University's informal "Band" to kick off the concert. Soon, I got to know a little bit about Tania and Azaan's little teen drama.

"I hear you're escorting my cousin during this concert, hmm? Her parents will probably want you to declare your intentions towards her!" Ali teased Azaan, who groaned and hid his face.

"Argh. Shit! I totally forgot about Tania and Co." He eyed Ali hopefully, "Well, now that you're here, you can stay with her! Please!"

"What, and ruin my night? No thank you! You wanted to play Prince Charming to her, so now you go be chivalrous....In fact, I think I see something shiny moving towards the circuit-board area, and it might just be her."

Azaan craned his neck to the mentioned area, and muttered, "Shoot" under his breath, before taking off to rescue the sound system from the Bleach Queen.

"Why does he hate her?" I asked Adiba in an undertone.

"Oh, uhh, not sure if I should be saying this, but a few months ago, she started hanging around Azaan during university, and uhh, took a-whole lot of selfies and such with him. It started out harmlessly, but then her tags, and titles and such implied that these two were more than friends, y'know, #Bae #BFF etc etc..." She snickered a little bit, "Umm, Azaan started getting teased around the family for this. A couple of elders even wanted to get involved, and properly hitch them up. He was terrified that he might actually end up married to her or something, so he told her to back off."

I could totally imagine Azaan getting himself into a situation like this. He is such a "YES Man"! He never knows when to draw the line when people (especially women) come to him for help. I was giggling as I pictured Azaan's fake smile during his forced nikah to Tania, with her nasal voice urging him to say Qubool Hay (I accept!). "Ohmigaah Azzy, just sign the damn papers alreadaaayy!! IYKWIM!!"

Tania showed up with Azaan just as the Campus Band started an electric-guitar version of the Pakistani National Anthem, to kick off the night. All of us respectfully bowed our heads while it lasted, except Tania, who complained about how tacky it was, opening for Atif Aslam, with an amateur garage band.

The crowd was so jazzed up with anticipation, that we happily sung along to the less-than-perfect cover renditions of old Vital Signs songs. After an hour or so, of this mass sing-along the whole area started getting a bit too packed. The impatience was palpable as we waited for Atif to grace us with his presence. Ali suggested that we sit down on the grass in a circle, to avoid losing our places. Azaan subtly nudged me inside the circle, so I wouldn't have to sit near strangers. I didn't comment on his gesture. Or the fact that I was already getting a bit nervous with the boisterous hooting and occasional shoves we received from the crowd.

"When is he gonna come already, like Ohmigaah, dude, you're a freaking professional performer, the least you could do is be on the bleeping time!" Tania whined to anyone who'd listen. I shooted my hourly text to Ruby, while we waited. She texted back with a thumbs-up sign.

"Ladieeeesss and gentlemen! Now! for the person you've been waiting for, please, make a lot of noise, for the ONE and the ONLY...ATIF ASLAM!" One of our BBA seniors yelled into the mic, before diving away from the stage. The hooting became deafening, as smoke machines went crazy. I watched mesmerized as the laser-light-balls shot neon bolts of green, red and blue dancing across the stage.

Beside me, Adiba went nuts as Atif walked onstage.

"I LOVE YOU ATIF! MARRY ME PLEAAASEEE!!!" She screamed her head off, willingly about to climb the metal fence in front of her. Her husband wrapped his arms around her torso from behind to stop her from legit jumping the fence.

"YOU'RE ALREADY MARRIED DEEBA!" He yelled laughing as she struggled against him.

"ISLAM ALLOWS FOUR MARRIAGES! AAACKK MARRY ME!" She kicked the security fence a couple of times. I was giggling like crazy as I witnessed this level of fanatic devotion.

Ali grinned back at us, "She always wanted to do this at a concert..."

"I LOVE THE CROWD TONIGHT!" Atif's voice boomed out from the speakers, causing females near me, to embarrass themselves with the sobbing and screaming. Someone behind me kept crying, "He's so beautiful!", pretty sure it was Tania.

Geez. Self-respect anyone?

"Let's start with the basics shall we?" The Rock Star yelled, before starting the guitar solo for Jal Pari. One of his very early hits. This was followed by Yakeen, Kahani, Humrahi, and my personal favorite Aadat.

The sound was deafening, and I couldn't really see that well, because of my tiny legs. I had my friends surrounding me from all sides, which was the only reason I wasn't terrified by all the jumping and dancing around me. Someone even started a crowd wave!

Then Tania took it in her head to change her position. She had barely moved a few feet, before the crowd started pushing her back. She was suddenly yanked clean off her feet. The visibility was so bad, I couldn't even see her anymore. Azaan started yelling out her name. Ali, Asadomer, and a reluctant Faris started pushing forward to search for the idiot.

"Stay right there Layla! Don't move!" Azaan hollered at me before disappearing. I didn't realize how many people they were actually warding away from us, because the second the guys vacated their places, this huge bunch of hyped-up people pushed into their place. I was suddenly being elbowed away as taller, stronger guys pushed ahead. I tried yelling, but it was like yelling into a vacuum-my voice just got sucked into an abyss of mixed sounds.

Atif is jamming his famous strings duet, Ab Khud Kuch Karna Parega with his lead guitarist.

"ab khud kuch karna pareyga humko
jalna pareyga marna pareyga..."

(We have to do something ourselves now, We have to burn. We have to die.)

Through my panic of keeping my footing, and fighting against all the shoves and pushes, I distinctly felt someone grab my jacket from behind. I was suddenly pressed into a hard, male body. One of his hands came up to band around my waist, and the other groped inside my jacket.

I lost control then.

I have no idea what I kicked, and what I yelled out. My entire body was jerking with fear, and I just couldn't stop screaming.

Somehow, if I keep screaming, I will be all right.

If I keep kicking, it will end soon.

"...kitne sawaloon ke jawab miley hain ab tak
kitna kiya hai intezar aur karooge kab tak
kab tak roona pareyga ..."

(How many questions have gone un-answered till now?

How much have you waited till now? How much more, do we cry?)

I was besieged with an onslaught of flashbacks. The same ones I have been having for years. Of Musa's face smirking at my tear-stained one. And suddenly the arms holding me close were his arms, and the hands....they were his hands; wandering where they shouldn't.

Confusing me at first. And then, terrifying me.

I never screamed then.

Because I never knew that I was supposed to.

So I do it now.

Scream my throat raw. Until the sound seems not elicited from my throat, but my very heart.

I numbly register the absence of his arms around me. But the loud sobs from my throat are out of my control. I'm curled up on the ground, with my arms clutching my jacket...and I am still screaming.

"...yeh kahani howi purani kitne logoon ki suni zubani..."

(This story is getting old, as it is retold, again and again...)

"STEP AWAY FROM HER! CAN'T YOU SEE SHE'S HURT!" I hear a female voice yell near me. Over the sound of music, and crowd-hooting, There's now a growing murmur of curious, people surrounding me. I wince away from a gentle touch.

"It's okay. I'm here to help." She tries to pry my fingers away from my sides, unsuccessfully. I can hear loud male shouts in the background.

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING TO HER?" my helper screeches at someone.

"I'M SO SORRY! DUDE! I THOUGHT SHE WAS MY GIRLFRIEND!" He hollers back, panic coloring his tone.

I hear a sharp slap, and multiple screeched curses thrown his way. Other voices are now joining the panic, and I feel people pressing in on us. I whimper as I receive an accidental kick to my side.

I want to die.

This has to be the end for me. But Atif is still crooning out his words.

"....tumhein jo kehna hai kehdo yeh waqt hai zamana kaheyga..."

(Say whatever you want to say. For "This time is ripe", people will say...)

"You're not gonna die! Up and at em big girl!" Her voice is strong and clear, and I feel a persistent tugging, as she draws me to my feet, half-carrying me forward, pushing through the sea of people.

"It'll help if you open your eyes!" She shouts in my ears, "Look straight ahead. I'm taking you away from this shithole!"

I just clench my eyes tighter. I don't want to see anyone. Or anything.

The only real thing for me right now, is my fear. And the prayer running through head. Even the instant brush of chilly air blowing on my face seems to come from a faraway place.

"Oh my God, people are hot!" My helper grumbles, "And not in a good way! It's so freaking cold here, don't you think?" She has a very unusual throaty voice. Very familiar.

I open my eyes.

Not that it helps much. I lost my glasses. I'm not completely blind, but the slightly blurred vision is adding to my misery.

A fresh batch of sobs descends as I realize what just happened.

"iss kahani ka akhir ab tum ko badalna pareyga ..."

(Now you have to change the way this story ends...)

"There there! Don't cry dude! I'm seriously bad with comforting. My best friend says I'm worse than her hubby, who's apparently a wimp like me..." Adiba chatters to me, trying to distract me. She guides me to an abandoned bleacher set away from the football ground. I can see a haze of smoky confusion in the distance. The concert.

"LAYLA!" A male voice yells from a distance. It's Azaan.

I hide my face in my hands as he jogs near, panting.

"I heard ...someone say... that Layla...Layla.. got hurt!" He gasps, bending over to catch his breath, "Are...you...okay?"

"Does she look okay to you? Genius!" Adiba yells back, "WHY DID YOU LEAVE OUR SIDE FOR THAT BIMBO? LAYLA ALMOST GOT TRAMPLED, AFTER SOME RANDOM GUY GROPED HER! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT I WILL MAKE SUR-"

"Shit..." He breathes. There's a defeated quality to his tone.

"NO SHIT! I'M TELLING YOU, I WILL MAIM YOU IF YO-"

"Who was it?" He asks deadpanned.

Adiba quiets down, "I'm not sure. Uh...He actually thought she was his girlfriend or something...Creepster..."

"What did he look like?" He demands calmly.

"Uhh, afro-haired. Wearing one of your ugly College hoodies...Wait...his name was printed on the back! Umm...Adam I think..."

"Oh shit. Now I have to kill him." He muttered, leaning down towards me, "Excuse me for like five minutes, okay? I'll be right back."

I heard him yell at Adiba to collect some barf bags.

"Don't make him...please. Stop him." I whispered tearfully. I didn't want any further drama. If it was an accident, then I just wanted to forget it and get over it, somehow. I wanted to burn the last few minutes from my mind. Forget that it ever happened.

"He'll do what he has to do. Don't you worry your head over it." Adiba patted my hands comfortingly. I realized that I ruined her night. When I apologized for it, she just waved it away, saying that she loved bitch-slapping Afro-Adam, and that she always wanted to physically harm someone at a concert.

I told her that her wishlist was extremely creepy. She laughed it out, retelling me funny stories about her husband's mission to get her to experience her wishlist. I started feeling a whole lot better.

"...and then, he rented an old 60's Vespa, and I drove it while he sat behind me, and rolled his eyes. It was so liberating! shocking people in the streets! I have no idea why women are not embracing scooters and bikes in Karachi! it's extremely FREEING!" Her animated retelling was interrupted by the arrival of Azaan and Ali. They were followed by a disheveled looking Tania. A bruise was blooming on her chin.

"...I know he deserved it, but you should have just had him escorted out or something-"

"Please just take Tania home with you. I said I'd give her a ride home, but I can't look at her right now." Azaan scowled at the ground. I looked him over for signs of blood, but there were none.

"I can HEAR you Azzy." Tania whined tearfully.

"Please. Please make her stop." He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Tania, do you have your bag with you? I think you should just come with Deeba and me." Ali wrapped his arm around his wife, whispering something in her ear. Tania sulkily followed them.

Adiba broke away from Ali, jogging up to me, worry marring her face "Will you be okay with Azaan, Layla? We can drop you too..."

"N-No, please don't bother yourself. I have my driver waiting outside. I'll leave when the concert's over. I promised to give Syra a ride home." I whispered back. "I'll be okay with him. It's only half an hour. I swear." I didn't mention that mostly, I don't want to go back early, because I don't want to face my Mama tonight. In fact, I don't feel like seeing her ever. If she finds out about tonight, I know she'll just make my life a little bit more unbearable. I feel like I'd die inside, if she says, "I told you so."

Adiba nodded dubiously, before pulling me into a hug, "You're stronger than you think, Layla." She said into my ear, "You take care now. Allah Hafiz."

Azaan slumps on a step below mine on the bleachers, holding his head in his hands.

"I didn't kill him. I'm sorry." He grunts. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend. So when Adiba told me, what that bastard did, I thought he was lying...."

I stay silent. Because it doesn't matter to me, anymore.

"...But apparently, he DOES have a girl now, and incidentally, she was wearing a black leather jacket too." He explains, "I still punched him in the stomach though. Not the face, because...well...blood..."

He sounds queasy, even just talking about it, "...I mean, you're kinda like a kid sister to me. And it's brother code, y'know? That we hurt the people who hurt our sisters."

I don't know whether to laugh or cry, in that moment; all sorts of inexplicable emotions running through me. Rage at myself, for being such an idiot. Rage at Afro-Adam, for not having better eye-sight. This mixed with an intense longing for my own brother, and also, an urge of sorts.

This urge to thank Allah for my friends. For Azaan. If it weren't for him....him and his blood-barfing, dimpled ways, I think I would have turned into a sociopathic man-hater.

"It's okay now. I did scream a lot. He probably wasn't expecting that." I chuckled shakily, shivering with the sharp chillness of the air. The open ground was freezing at this side. The concert was like another universe now; guitar-riffs, and crowd-singing, muffled by the distance.

"I shouldn't have pressured you to come, Hayat. It was stupid of me. But I just-ugh-I don't know, I guess I just wanted you to be a part of something I'm passionate about. You always seem so withdrawn, in crowds, even with us sometimes. After the whole Ghani fiasco, I figured, you should get to have a real-life College-Event experience..." He snorts dryly at that, "Some experience I forced on you...."

"Please. Just stop blaming yourself." I took a deep breath before laying myself bare before him, "This isn't the first time someone has done this to me..."

After I say the words, it's like I can't stop them. I don't care anymore, about appearances, about hiding my scars. It's like ten years of silent suffering has gotten on my nerves. It's a catharsis. A purging of sorts. I feel lighter with every uttered syllable.

Azaan just watches me with pained eyes. He looks older, graver as the story goes on.

"...I guess it began because of my utter cluelessness. I don't know if it's okay to blame my naivete, but I remember, the first time he touched me inappropriately...I didn't know that it was wrong...I was eight years old. And he was my brother's best friend...."

Author's Note:
Hey folks! Thank you for reading!
Quick note, Generally, Atif concerts don't end up like this one did! If you're with friends, and family, it really is not such a terrifying experience. (it's pretty incredible, actually!) Layla just got unlucky. :)

In the next chapter, we get to know her story fully.

Child sexual abuse is an issue that honestly gives me nightmares. At this point, after hearing about someone's personal experience (someone who's very close to my heart), and reading anonymous confessions on a facebook page...I have absolutely no faith left in humans.

I say humans. I say people. Because it's not about a strange pedophile-man stereotype anymore. It's about family. Friends. Old and young. Man and woman. Anyone can be sick enough to do this.

Please. Please educate children about inappropriate touches as early as possible. If someone you know has gone through this experience, just listen to them. Help them in any way you can.

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