In her room, Amal sat on her desk chair busy colouring floral pictures. Late at night when she wanted to disconnect from everything, in her darkened room, she would switch on her desk lamp, take out floral or mandala colouring sheets and just sit there for hours colouring until her sore eyes close with fatigue and drowsiness.

Over the months, her therapeutic hobby had lessened. She now hardly got time to indulge in it. By bed time, she was too exhausted to even think of switching on her desk light. Instead she would slump on her bed and at times not even bother to cover herself with the duvet. It's only in the middle of the night when the temperatures dipped she would shiver and drag the duvet from under her body to cover herself.

Tonight was different. Amal was restless. She had a very busy day but she just couldn't sleep. Instead, she sat cross legged on her swirl pink chair and concentrated on colouring. Her thoughts were muddled and this was reflected in her colouring which didn't sync.

It had been a month since she had contacted her friends from her baking course and also posted on various social media baking groups. At the start, there were some who enquired whether she had her own set up and the location of her shop, upon hearing it was home based people backed out. No one was ready to help her. She was willing to pay the good wages albeit a little less than average wage rate. But still, there was no response.

In the silence of the night, the message alert jolted her and the colour pencil slipped from her fingers. Frowning, she glanced at the pastel pink wall clock and went to get her phone from the bedside drawer. Her frown deepened further as she read the text message.

HANIYA: Hi Amal. I saw your post that you are looking for help with your baking business. I am interested in the job.

Amal went completely blank. She blinked several times and pressed her lips together. The text message was as if her thoughts had conjured up on her screen. With trembling fingers she typed her response. Her lips moving in prayer "Hasbi Allah" a prayer from the Quran which means "Allah is Sufficient for us".

Hi Haniya, yes I am still looking. Do you have any experience in baking or any professional training?

There was an immediate response.

I don't think you remember. But I was in the first couple of classes with you during the baking course. I had to drop the course in the middle. I went back and completed the course few months back and now I am looking for some experience.

Amal couldn't remember at all. Perhaps, if she meets her she will recognise her. She clicked on the girl's profile picture but it was a picture of a pet cat.

I am sorry I don't remember. Do you want to meet up so we can discuss this?

That would be great.

As Amal chatted to decide on the day and time to meet, her heart accelerated. There are times when one doesn't know how fast one prayers are listened to.

Only the Almighty is aware of what is the in hearts and it is He who eases the affairs after hardship.

*****

Standing at the dessert aisle of the supermarket, Amal ticked off from her shopping list. For the last one hour, Amal was buying ingredients for a big order that was due in next two days. Everything was ticked off on her list except for the assortment of nuts required for baking the cupcakes. Her eyes still on the shopping list in her phone, she pushed the shopping trolley and bumped into someone.

Her eyes rounded and she apologised, "I am sorry. I am really sorry."

The man glanced at her, nodding and replied, "No problem."

Embarrassed, Amal manoeuvred the shopping trolley away from the man. Hurriedly, she pushed the trolley so she could escape from this aisle.

Just when she passed the man, he called, "Amal."

She came to a halt and turned. Her eyebrows scrunched, how does he know my name?

She raised an eyebrow inquisitively at the man when recognition dawned. "Zain?"

Zain smiled, "It's good to see you after a long time."

She smiled back, "I didn't recognise you at all."

He chuckled, "Yeah I know I am not my big self anymore."

Zain was in her baking class two years ago. He was tall and big the result of being a foodie. But now she couldn't recognise him at all. He was half of what he was. They weren't in contact since the course.

"How are you? I heard you started your own business?"

Amal nodded, "Yes, it's a home-based cupcakes business."

"Great, so the baking course was handy. And...Laura said you were looking for assistant recently. Did you find anyone?"

"I did Alhumdulilah (Praise be to Allah). She will be starting tomorrow. What about you? What are you doing?"

"I am pastry chef in a fine dining restaurant."

Amal's eyes widened, "Wow mashaa Allah. So the course did you good."

"Yeah. I can't complain. It was great seeing you after so long. I would love to know more about your business. Do you want to exchange numbers?"

Without any hesitancy, Amal replied, "Sure."

****

Amal had set up two stations to mix and prepare various flavour batters for the different cupcakes. The order at hand required to prepare carrot cupcakes and banoffee cupcakes. In the last one hour, Haniya and Amal worked side by side. Only occasionally Haniya would ask for assistance. This was the first day that they were working together.

Amal eyed the skinny woman who was now decorating the banoffee cupcake with fresh whipped cream frosting. Dressed in flowy maxi pink polka dot black dress, hot pink bandanna tied in her caramel bayage hair, her dark brown eyebrows drew together in concentration. Amal had no expectations when they came to a mutual agreement for Haniya to start work. However, she was more helpful than Amal could have anticipated. In less than an hour, a batch of 12 cupcakes was ready, less than half the time it would have otherwise taken Amal to do herself. And not only that while the cupcakes baked, Haniya had cleaned the counter. Now Amal didn't have to worry about the clean-up.

As Haniya finished frosting the last cupcake, she said, "I wanted to speak to you about my wages."

"Yeah," Amal was setting the carrot cupcakes in the box.

"Is it possible that you pay me in cash for the next couple of weeks?"

Amal nodded slowly, "I can do that."

"Thanks."

Amal added, "About your hours, I was thinking if we can start with 5 hours for 4 days a week for now. And then as I take more orders we can increase the days."

Haniya brought the tray of finished banoffee cupcakes to where Amal was standing by the half full cupcake box on the kitchen counter.

"That'll be great. I would prefer weekdays mornings."

"I will try my best to accommodate that but there might be weekends I need your help."

"I..." Haniya hesitated and stopped herself, then shook her head as if making a decision, "If you could please give me a few days' notice when you want me on weekends I can then come."

"Sure." Amal then smiled, "Busy on weekends?"

For a moment, Haniya stilled in putting the cupcakes in the box, evading to look at Amal she replied, "No not really. I think we are done for today." She said in one breath.

"Yeah we are. Thanks for everything Haniya."

This was becoming a common practice in last few hours. Every time Amal asked anything regarding her, Haniya shirked in answering. Amal respected her privacy and decided this was the last time she would be asking any personal questions.

*****

Jahangeer was massaging his Daadi's legs and feet. This was a normal nightly practice. If he was home, his Daadi would call him to her room. And then for many minutes, Jahangeer would massage her legs and feet. Today was no different, except Daadi was in a mood to chat.

In the small room that had a steel almirah and two cane chairs on one side and a single bed on the other side, Jahangeer perched on the end of the bed massaged the old frail and veiny feet. Staring at the rotating fan, Shahnaz Begum murmured, "it was more than 50 years ago when I got married your Dada."

Jahangeer smiled, "Are you missing Dada jaan?"

She stretched her hand and Jahanger held it tightly, his fingers brushed the green tasbih (prayer beads) wrapped around her wrist as a bracelet. He helped her to sit upright. Her crochet embroidered white dupatta slid from her grey and henna dyed copper hair. Since the death of her husband, she always wore pastel colours symbolising the loss of colour in her life.

"You know he didn't see me before our wedding." Her cheeks pinked, there was an odd twinkle in her wrinkled grey eyes and her voice lowered to a whisper, "But I had seen him. When he visited my parent's home, I had peeked from behind the door curtain."

Jahangeer laughed, "Naughty Daadi."

Shahnaz Begum also giggled remembering the olden days. "He was a handsome man with his curls and broad moustache."

"And Daadi maa fell in love at first sight"

"Besharam (shameless)" she smacked his shoulder playfully.

His laughter grew louder and he gathered his grandmother in his arms, "You are adorable Shahnaz Begum. No wonder Dada jaan was besotted."

"Jahangeer," she said sternly but was trying hard not to smile.

He had seen a rare kind of love between his grandparents. His Dada jaan had been attuned to every feelings of his Daadi maa. He had seen him always giving the best meat piece to his wife from his plate or after taking a sip he gave her his cold drink glass bottle which she loved and wasn't allowed to have because of her diabetes. Then, a faraway memory when he was a young child, how his grandfather brought gajra (floral crosages) for his Daadi every now and then. In return, his Daadi jaan had prepared tea for him until his last days. He only liked to have tea prepared by her. He remembered how Daadi used to fuss around the kitchen even to prepare a mere tea, he would joke that it was his Daadi's magic potion that made tea special for Dada jaan.

As she pulled away from her grandson, she patted his cheek affectionately, "He was a good man just like you are. And I am sure you will keep the girl your mother is looking for really happy."

He blankly stared at her Dadi maa. Girl? What girl?

****

"Amal did you have any contact with your sister?" Jahangeer asked glancing at his phone.

"No Abou," Amal replied setting the salad bowl on the kitchen table.

Jahangeer took out two plates from the kitchen cabinet, "That's strange. Sana calls me daily. She didn't call today."

Taking the plates from her father, Amal set the plates on the floral plastic placemats, "You are worrying for no reason. She must be busy with her children and that no good husband of hers."

"Amal that is no way to speak of your brother in law."

Slumping on the dining chair, she quickly filled her plate with salad and chicken tikka. "Abou please let's talk about something pleasant."

Aghast, Jahangeer filled his glass with water, "You need to respect him irrespective what you think of him."

Her fork stopped in mid-air, gently she put it back on the plate, "We live in a hypocrite world. Why can't I say what I feel?"

"Because you will be rude then and also hurt others."

"I don't care if he gets hurt." She shrugged.

"Well I do."

He was well aware that the sisters were not talking to each other. He had tried to broach the topic with Amal but she always said everything was alright and today was no different. He narrowed his eyes, food forgotten, his hunger vanished.

"When was the last time you spoke to Sana?"

"She visited last week. Didn't she?"

Taking a deep breath, he was losing his patience now, "I meant actually sit with her and talk or calling her to ask how she is doing."

Amal jammed her fork into the cucumber slice and stuffed it in her mouth, she shrugged, "What is there to talk?"

"Anything and everything." He pressed.

She rolled her eyes and looked at her food longingly, "Abou there is nothing going on. She is busy with her life and I am busy in mine. We really don't have anything in common. She has her family and I have my business."

"You don't need common things in family to talk. Amal this is the last time I am telling you."

Sighing, her hand tightened around the water glass tightly, "Abou you never say anything to her."

"Of course I do. I tell her the same thing."

"I am sure she gives excuses."

Shaking his head, "No she doesn't. Instead she says she is trying with you."

Amal winced. That was the truth. Her sister had been trying for the last few months since that incident with Saad to soothe her. But it was Amal who didn't put any effort. In fact, there were so many times she didn't bother to converse with Sana, either she was busy with her baking or just in her room.

Conceding, she took sip of water and her hand on her glass loosened as she put it back on the table, "I will make it up. In fact, I will text her after dinner and ask her when she is coming over. You can mind the girls and both of us can go out for a girls' day out."

Jahangeer smiled and nodded in satisfaction. Finally he started filling his plate.

"Now, let me tell you about Haniya." She wanted to talk about more pleasant things than her sour relationship with her sister.

After dinner she texted her sister on WhatsApp only one tick came up. The message wasn't even delivered. She didn't think of it much as she got busy with organising her next day schedule. 

The message was never delivered.

Many hours later, Jahanger sat on his bed, for the umpteenth time he glanced at his phone screen. There was no text or no missed call. Busy or not, he was calling his eldest daughter just to check on her.

The phone went straight to voicemail.

This was strange. He was now worried. It was too late to call Saad. He will call him first thing in the morning.

Lying down, a prayer left his lips, "Ya Allah keep her safe."

****

On the cold autumn morning, Jahangeer sat in front of the television in his living room. Morning chai on the side table and breakfast biscuits. He was very tired this morning. He had a restless sleep, it was as if he had an endless nightmare. Once, he even woke up in sweat. After that he had given up sleep and instead stood in front of his Lord and prayed for peace. But he couldn't find ease.

Even as the first glimmer of the sunrise lightened his home, there was bleakness as the grey clouds loomed and threatened to unleash their torment. It wasn't long before it was lashing. And that was two hours ago, the rain still didn't cease.

Amal was in the kitchen fixing her morning coffee for herself and mumbling how she had a long day ahead. On the television, the newscaster was narrating the gruesome details of a terror attack on other side of the world. Jahangeer was oblivious to all this and unlocked his phone for any notifications.

There were none.

The doorbell rang unceremoniously. Jerking from his thoughts, Jahangeer went straight to the door. It was too early for any visitors. He pulled open the door and stared at the person standing in front of him.

"Saad?"

Saad was in a wet t-shirt and cargo pants that was clinging to him now. Water was dripping from his wet matted hair. It seemed he was standing in the rain for quite some time. There were tears in his blood shot eyes.

"Saad beta come in."

Intrigued, Amal walked in the hallway, standing behind her father. The hot coffee mug in her hand.

Seeing his son in law in this condition, Jahangeer apprehensions grew. "You are worrying me." He glanced behind Saad, "Where is Sana?"

Saad shook his head.

Jahangeer stretched his hand, "Come in."

Again Saad shook his head.

A sob left his lips.

Jahangeer pressed in a frantic voice, "What is wrong Saad beta?"

"Cancer."

"What?" Jahangeer didn't hear him right.

"She has cancer."

"You are not making sense. Come inside, away from the rain and we will talk then." Jahangeer tried to calm himself and the younger man in front of him.

"Sana...She...she ...she is dying."

Amal's coffee mug slipped from her hands crashing on the hallway white tiles floor.

*****

Eid Mubarak everyone. Hope you enjoyed yourselves despite the troubling times we are living in 

New chapter will be out soon inshaa Allah it's already in the making. 

Until next time 

Assalam u alaikum warahamatullahi wabarakatuhu.