"Anyone notice that printers are like little hell minions, sent from perdition to screw up our deadlines? If printers were humans, they'd look like pissed off Stallones (Or regular Stallones. Same thing. Eh?) It's like they can sense eleventh hours and weaknesses:

'Hey! whaddup? So you're in a hurry to print out an assignment with a deadline? and it counts for 10% of your grade? Hmm...this is super dooper important? Oh. Okay. I can definitely do that because we're pals, and this is basically my jo--. Oh snap. I'm suddenly starving for those papers you fed into me. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. Whoops! sorry about that! Now I'll just print that docu--Beeeeeep Beeeeeep. I swear, this doesn't happen everyday...but I'm experiencing a paper jam in my butt. Darn those new Kodak refills...' "--Nitty Gritty (Issue No: 980, May 2015)

"Maria wants to know when we need the dresses for our photo-shoot." I informed Faris after a particularly grueling rehearsal. He was busy scrolling through his phone. He spared me a brief grunt and eye-twitch before returning to his phone.

I frown, puzzled. I guess he'll just inform me of his plans, whenever...

Faris hasn't spoken one unnecessary word to me, ever since the bake-sale. He ignores me like he ignores most of the other co-actors, outside of the rehearsal rooms. I thought we had actually made some social progress, what with both of us sharing this huge secret from the rest of our friends....I guess not.

It seems incredible that someone as expressionless, and taciturn as Faris can embrace the vibrant role of Ameer Khusro so well. He swishes about with fake swords strapped to his waist, bellowing out crazy orders to even crazier magicians. Then we see his sensitive, hopeless romantic side, when he laments about the true love he witnesses in the forest, finally reversing the spell on the star-crossed lovers.

The climax of the play, the epilogue of sorts, is one of my favorite parts. In the most poetic turn of events, Khusro's character decides to dedicate his life to the One Divine Love. Ishq-e-Haqiqi. The love of God. He forsakes his worldly goods for the eternal love of Allah, and disappears into the same forest, as a Sufi mystic. A dervish.

His spiritual transformation at the end was part of a live Sufi Qawwali (musical verse) that Faris had chosen. It was awe-inspiring to see Faris rehearse the Qawwali with a group of Sufi-music enthusiasts he had recruited. According to him, this was his tribute to mysticism.

"The Qawwali I chose, is by another Amir Khusro, a Sufi poet. He lived a century after Nizami, and in a different part of the world. However, the funny bit is, that this Sufi verse/Qawwali was penned by Amir Khusro, to honor his mystic teacher, Nizamuddin Auliya. Which kind of makes resembles Nizami's name..." He informed all of us, excitedly.

"So there are like, two Khusros and two Nizamis in real life?" I asked.

"Essentially yes. There's Shirin's Khusro/Khosrow, the last powerful Persian, Sasanian King to rule before the Muslim conquests. He ruled in 500 something AD. Nizami, the great Azerbaijani poet, penned down Khusro's epic historical romance with Princess Shirin as a poem in the eleventh century. These two are not to be confused by Amir Khusro and Nizamuddin Auliya who lived almost a century after Nizami's age, in the Indian Subcontinent." Faris was focused on his script as he answered me. "The Qawwali that I chose, Aaj Rung Hai, is one of Amir Khusro's beloved poems. Penned in the twelfth century AD. It is addressed to his own mother. And in the poem, Khusro talks about the greatness of his spiritual teacher, the revered Sufi Saint, Nizamuddin Auliya. I'm just glad that our Qawwal group already knows all the instruments. The full impact of a live climactic verse will be incredible..."

I learn something new about art, and literature and history, every time this boy opens his mouth. I swear there isn't any other under-20 person around ten miles of me, more interested in a deceased Sufi saint who lived centuries ago.

The last Act is still giving me a lot of trouble. Especially the point where Farhad unwittingly throws me to the floor. Yep. Not too thrilled about that. But even the mock falling-on-my-ass-on-a-stage part is better than the part where a bleeding Qais, weeps over my injured, body, and draws me up in his arms...While I stay unconscious. Prone. At his mercy...

The most terrifying thing I've ever done. Hands Down.

Each time we practice, I get a little bit better at concealing my terror.

Almost every time we do the scene, I want to push the boys away, and run away into the proverbial forest.

Not unlike Khusro in the Epilogue.

I just have to keep reminding myself that my fears aren't as big as my Allah. I just trust Him to get me through this. Intact, body and soul. I want to emerge as a stronger person after this is through.

"When do you think we can tell our friends? About Aik Kahani?" I whispered to Faris during a study break we were taking with the others.

He rubbed his face, tensed, "In a fortnight, the posters from the photo-shoot will be ready. When they see our faces on the panaflex...I'm pretty sure they'll realize what's going on. Why are you so hung up on telling people, anyways? Geez."

I experience an urge to hit him.

I grit my teeth angrily to bite back on a retort. He isn't realizing how hurt Shay and Azaan would be, if they find out about our roles from a freaking two-by-six standee.

I focus back to the conversation at hand.

Azaan is a little disappointed, because one of his software projects for a scholarship, didn't qualify in the national tech competitions. Apparently, the scholarship is a career-maker in the tech-industry of Pakistan. It will be a fully funded, internship program funded and grounded by the prestigious Caltech College. Azaan had been working on his Photography-related App software for months, hence the rejection really stung.

To cheer him up, we all chipped in to buy him the Double Cheese-crust Turkey Pizza he had been raving about. At least he wasn't threatening to jump in the campus pond anymore...

"If I were a song right now. I'd be one of those Instrumental Bach Violin pieces. The super sad ones." Azaan muttered gloomily. My heart squeezed sympathetically, when he bit sadly into his pizza.

"Cheer up, Azaan! You can always try next year eh?" I gave him my share of the potato salad without his asking.

"Yeah. I guess. Thanks for the Pizza, guys. This means a lot to me." He gave a halfhearted smile. "I was kind of hoping to get the internship this year. It would've been a huge head start on my career..."

He didn't say it out loud, but I know that ever since his Dad retired recently, he has been very determined to somehow become financially independent. Really soon.

It's a miracle that he manages to make time for us friends, and for his million other social projects. Last month, he even quit the football team in order to dedicate more time to this App competition. It's a shame that it wasn't selected. But I have faith, that Allah obviously has other, better plans for him...

"Hey, if Faris were a song, he'd be Pokerface, by Lady Gaga." Asad snickered, getting into the game.

Faris flipped him off, while the rest of us laughed.

"Okay, my turn!" Shay piped in. "I think Azaan would typically be, "Say Hey" by Micheal Franti. Amirite?"

Azaan sniffed in disdain, "Hardly. I think I'd be I'm Sexy and I know it."

We all groaned.

"Peeshay would be 'I Don't Care' By Icona Pop!" I smiled at my best girl-friend.

She squealed, and started a group sing-along. Much to my relief, Azaan was laughing by the time our neighboring table actually joined in our awful rendition.

"What's my song then?" Asad asked us.

"Pappu can't Dance Sala." Omer snickered back. "Hey guys, you remember his moves on the Desi Day dance floor? He made two girls cry....with laughter...."

Asad abandoned his chair to strangle him back.

"I think Hayat would be Titanium." Azaan said after swallowing a mouthful of his meal.

I shrugged. Secretly pleased as the others either agreed, or shook it off.

"Nah. Titanium is too bad-ass for her." Shay tilted her head. "I'd say she is Brave. By Sara Bareilles. She is blunt like that."

Not that brave and blunt, lately. If only you knew...

I cleared my throat, "I always loved Iris, by The Goo Goo Dolls. I don't even know why. That song is just..."

Azaan nodded his agreement. "Oh yeah. Incredible music. Even though I always found their name a bit disturbing, but the Goo Goo Dolls just nailed the feels in that music. It's like... if I was ever stupid enough to fall in love, this song would be the soundtrack of my life."

I grinned back, "Oh yeah! this song makes me want to fall in love. Just so I can pretend that Iris is playing in the background! because that would just be awesome..."

Asad raised his Pepsi glass in toast to that.

It wasn't until later that Shay asked me privately, "I have to ask you two things. And I want honest answers. Be brave. Titanium lady."

I gulped nervously.

"Did Faris say anything about me to you? when you two were whispering together?" She asked breathlessly.

"No, Shay, I swear." I felt sad when she immediately deflated.

"Okay." She whispered, glumly, her lower lip jutting out. I swallowed nervously, anticipating her next question. I'm not sure I can lie about the play to her face. When she says nothing else, I muster up the courage to ask her about it.

"Uhh, what was your second question?"

"Oh. Nothing big. Just wanted to ask you if you think this top makes me look like a housewife. I accidentally got it from the post-natal section of Sheep..."

............

"Laili, thy Form is ever in my sight." Qais's hands were cupping my face as he delivered the passion-struck lines. "In thoughts by day, and in dreams by night."

"Cut!" Juwariya yelled at us. Faris rolled his eyes at her words. Since this is a play, and not a film, there's nothing to "Cut" the scene from, but she loves parading around as a professional film director. And we let her.

"Qais. I know that you were in some big-shot NAPA production of Gatsby--" she began her usual critique.

"I was in Grease." The dude muttered back pretentiously.

"Whatever. I know that you're super talented in the dialogue delivery, but I'm just not seeing enough passion inside you, facially. Visually. You don't look at her like she hung the moon and stars, like she is the loveliest woman alive...get what I mean?"

"Well, she isn't exactly Heidi Klum. No offense, but you could have picked someone better suited for our roles..." He muttered sullenly, averting his eyes from me.

I pretended to shrug it off, but I was actually kind of hurt.

"Excuse me, but Fuck You." Faris drawled out from below the raised platform of the drama room. I gaped as he gestured towards the exit door. "Take a hike, dude. Seriously. I don't need fucking divas in my play. If you're half the actor you claim to be, you will ACT like the real Qais. Without throwing thinly veiled, personal insults at MY fucking friend!"

Juwariya tried to soothe the loud argument that followed, while I just helplessly watched.

Eventually, Juwariya convinced Qais to take off early from rehearsals, to cool off. Faris was livid, but he eventually got things under control. The rest of the cast was pretty intimidated by this awkward scene, and it took a while for us to get in rhythm.

"I'll play Qais for today." Faris announced generally. Throughout our separate scenes, he expertly rattled off Qais' lines. He knew the script by heart.

Then things got real awkward. Real quick.

"O, morning breeze, so fresh and sweet. Wilt thou my lovely mistress greet?" His heavy voice rang out, clear, and he cupped my face, willing me to say my lines.

"Come night, I will escape my gilded cage. For thy face beloved, I will run to the forest sage." I articulated clearly, tamping down on the nervousness I typically feel.

It was then that he looked straight into my eyes.

And shocked the hell out of me.

"I know about the note."

My heart was lodged firmly in my throat, as my eyes widened. I think I made a squeak. Dammit Pareeshae!

He removed his hands from my face, frowning, as he leaned forward to whisper his words, after making sure that everyone else was busy in their own lines.

"I know that this will hurt you a lot. But I have to tell you that I do not have feelings for you." He was looking at his feet the entire time. I saw the color in his cheek heighten.

Wait. WHAT??

My mouth hung open in shock. You could have knocked me over with a chicken feather right then.

"I know it will take you time to get over me...."

I just shook my head in disbelief.

"...but I cannot keep leading you on in any way. I look at you as a friend. Nothing else..."

My mind was numb, but I managed to cough out an "I see."

He thinks I'm the one who sent him that note!!!

Well, color me Laili...I'm officially about to laugh hysterically in his face, while he tries to 'Let me down easy'.

"Do you think we can still be friends? Despite the fact that you're in love with me?" He asked sadly.

I suppressed a giggle that was threatening to bubble out,"Yeah, I think I can manage that."

He sighed with relief. "Not that there's anything wrong with you Layla. You're a smart, talented young lady. And don't pay attention to Qaishole, because you're definitely pretty...it's just.... I already kinda like someone else...and it won't be fair to you. You know what I mean?"

I clapped my hands to my mouth, to suppress a hysterical snort of laughter. I nodded quietly at him.

"Hey, Faris." I finally strangled out, "I want to know who you like. It might help me get over my love for you..."

Allah help me, I need to laugh out loud!! I'm dying!

He scowled ferociously, and scratched his ears awkwardly at that. "Do I really need to tell you?"

"How else am I supposed to get over you? Unless I know that you've chosen someone good enough?" I lied through my teeth, without missing a beat. I dramatically covered my face with my hands.

Acting lessons do pay off!

He scoffed, "Hardly chosen her. I just can't stop thinking about her. That's all. I doubt she'll be into someone as surly as I."

"Faris. Trust me, you don't want me hung up on you..." I said slyly, adding a fake sob to the mix.

He sighed. Aggravated. "Just don't mention it to her, but I kind of like Shay. Our Shay." He clarified superfluously. As if I know any other Shay....

As soon as I had confirmation of my suspicions, I whooped out loud.

"YEEAAASSS!!!" I shrieked, clapping my hands and bouncing in excitement while Faris stare aghast at me.

"Wait a minute. You never sent me that poem, did you?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at all my excited jumping around. "You don't look like someone whose love just betrayed her..."

I gave in to the long suppressed hilarity, and howled with laughter, slapping my knees like a demented seal.

"Seriously...you-you think I'd ever write a poem to declare my love for anyone?" I chortled. "What did the infamous note say, anyways?"

He scowled and brought out the crumpled red note from the depths of his jeans pocket.

"Rose are red. Violets are blue.

Someone in your friend-group really likes you."

I wiped away tears of mirth from my eyes, vowing to slug Pareehae for this dorkiness. The longer Faris scowled at me, the more I laughed.

It took a while to ultimately sober up.

"I'm actually offended that you think I'd ever pull off something like this." I snickered, pushing the note back towards him. "Maybe you should look elsewhere for the note's author. I think Azaan might have a crush on you. Or Asad..."

"If any of those fuckers are playing a prank on me; I will fucking end them." He threatened silkily, moving towards the exit with purposeful strides. I yelped, running after him to save Azaan's skin.

It took a while for me to convince Faris that Shay was the one who sent it. As you might expect, he cursed a little bit, after hearing this news. Then scowled for a good while during our remainder rehearsal...

I'm the only one who noticed that he suddenly wouldn't take his hand out from the side-pocket of his jeans. I bet my brand new Laili costume, that he was holding onto Shay's silly note. Romantic Khusro....

..............

"Okay. This time was almost perfect! Now after a ten-minute break, let's try that again with the music. Let's see how it flows." Juwariya called out after Faris had delivered the last bit of his monologue.

Things with Qaishole were awkward, what with Faris throwing him withering looks anytime he tried talking to us.

A noticeable improvement was seen in Faris' general demeanor though. It's been a few days since he found out about the note. I've deduced from Shay's utterly unchanged behavior, that he still hasn't talked to her about his feelings. The only indication of his good mood, is a palpable reduction in curse-words per hour...Not much, but we'll take it!

The rest of the team was trying hard to be as perfect as possible, in order to avoid messing up Faris's good spirits. Unlike usually, I barely elbowed Farhad and Qais when they made his moves on me in the Last Act.

Rehearsing with music is a bit distracting, but it's necessary practice for our final show. We all needed to be able to concentrate on the role without paying attention to the live Tabla and Sitar playing in the background.

"But I am meant for Qais. As he is meant for me." I lamented dramatically, struggling against Farhad's hold. "And Shirin loves thee. Thou is meant for Shirin! Oh Lord of suns and moons...Has this forest has gone mad?"

This is the point where Qais jumps back into the scene, brandishing a plastic dagger menacingly. He takes my other arm, attempting to pull me away from Farhad.

"You scoundrel! Unhand my betrothed! How dare thee sully her, with thy base touch! My Laili is pure as the milk in her eyes!"

Squished between these two bone-headed, testosterone-fueled idiots, I begin to sob. Loud anguished cries, interspersed with screams of "No!" and "Let me go!"

Faris was about to step in with his narration, when the door to the rehearsal room suddenly flew open. Pareeshae stood there gaping, horrified, followed by Azaan and Asadomer.

All of us froze. Like deer caught in headlights.

In his surprise, Qais accidentally jabbed his plastic dagger to my side, and I cried out with the unexpected pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Azaan screamed manically. In a few strides, he reached us in the middle of the room. Farhad quickly scrambled away from me, when he saw a roaring Azaan rushing towards him.

Qais wasn't so lucky.

Two punches had landed on his face, before I could say 'Majnun'.

Azaan was repeatedly slamming the actor's pale face against the floor, grunting out his words; "You...don't...fucking...touch...her..."

It took the combined effort of Faris, Farhad, and Asadomer to pull him off of a feebly twitching Qais.

I was too shell-shocked to say anything. There's something bone-chillingly appalling about eye-witnessing physical violence. My heart was firmly lodged in my throat. I could hear the pounding of it in my ears.

I've never ever seen Azaan lose control like this. It scared me.

After pulling the brawl apart, Pareeshae and Juwariya tended to Qais's bruised up face and bloodied nose while an irate Azaan was apprised of the full situation.

Faris was cursing up a blue streak, as he railed at him for losing his temper. Azaan was shaking with his anger, and I just watched him from a safe distant, while he calmed down.

"I don't care if you call me a diva. But I cannot work around such occupational hazards!" Qais clutched at his bleeding nose, pinching the bridge to stop the crimson flow. He gave Azaan the stink-eye, before shuffling towards the doors.

"You total dingbat! You made me lose the only professional actor I had managed to recruit. He was part of the fucking Great Expectations with NAPA!" Faris yelled at Azaan.

"I WAS IN GREASE!" Qais hollered back nasally through his pinched nose. Farhad muttered something about trying to convince Qais to return, and followed him out the doors.

"I swear to God, Malik. I will ruin your life, if he doesn't come back. I've invested too much in my play to have you fuck it up..." Faris threatened.

"So you wrote this play?" Azaan hissed quietly, glowering at Faris.

"Yes. I wrote the play. You idiot! do you realize he might report you to The General now?"

"How long have you been hiding this?"

"About two months, but it doe-"

Faris' explanation was cut off by a barely human snarl, as Azaan pounced on Faris this time.

Everyone in the room started yelling at once.

Faris recovered from the surprise assault, by gripping onto Azaan's hair. Azaan got in a healthy sucker punch, before Faris kneed him in the groin, causing him to grunt in anguish. They were rolling around on the floor, like a badly scripted Bruce Willis action movie scene.

"Let go...of my...hair..." Azaan panted, as they paused for a second.

"You let go of my throat first..." Faris croaked back, scrabbling at Azaan's fingers wrapped firmly around his neck.

I'd had enough of this drama (Pun intended). I snatched up one of Khusro's abandoned plastic swords, and approached the two entwined idiots.

WHACK!

Azaan groaned in agony, as my aimed blow landed on his back. His grip on Faris' neck loosened.

WHACK!

Faris cursed Khusro for some reason, when I hit his chest.

"STEP AWAY FROM EACH OTHER! YOU NEANDERTHALS!" I screeched, drawing back the sword for a third hit.

They immediately let go of each other, and scrambled away from me, scowling menacingly from a safe distance.

"Faris! Are you okay?" Shay cried out worriedly, reaching for his scratched face. Faris' scowl slipped, when he realized that this moment could be milked for special advantages. I heard him murmur, "Not really."

"What? aren't you going to tend to my wounds?" Azaan mocked me, when I reached him. His upper lip was swelling up, and his hair was a wreck, I spotted an inch-long scratch under his stubbled jaw. My sympathy at his pain warred with my anger.

I whacked him once more with the sword, because my temper shot through the roof at his derisive tone. He winced in response.

Juwariya quickly snatched away the offending weapon from my hands, muttering about Glue Guns for some reason.

"What is wrong with you? Punching a guy like that!! He is bleeding, Azaan!" I hissed to him.

"He was touching you Layla, and you were crying about it!" He growled back at me. "I'm sorry if I didn't pause to check if you all were rehearsing for a fucking play! Because guess what? I DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU WERE IN A FUCKING PLAY!"

"Alrighty folks. Rehearsal's over. Let's skedaddle!" Juwariya chirped out, herding our avid audience out. My friends also shuffled awkwardly to their feet, staring warily at both of us glaring daggers at each other. I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something crazy in my anger.

Shay was about to close the door behind her, when Azaan snapped at her to leave it open.

"Closed doors make her anxious." He muttered to her, still glaring accusingly at me.

"Just don't kill each other." Shay nervously called out to us, before following Faris out of the room.

................

Author's Note:

Well, pretty long one this chapter! :D had more fun with the punching, than I ought to have....

I'm super excited about finding the perfect sufi music to go with the play. How amazing is the coincidence that this music was written by someone named Amir Khusro!! I'm attaching the soundcloud clip with the relevant paragraph...it is Coke Studio's version of "Aaj Rung Hay". You can search up the lyrics and english translation...it is a beautiful tribute to a teacher.

Anyhoo. I apologize for the excess F-bombs. Huhuh.

Thanks a bunch for all the love and support you've given this book. (:

Don't forget to COMMENT and VOTE!!!

-E