Men don't cry.

He had always believed in that. He feared the process of tearing up his emotions and spilling them through his eyes. He thought it would not make him man enough.

But when he witnessed Asma talking about her feelings, expressing them on a raw plate, he couldn't stop those treacherous tears from welling up.

He cried seeing her cry.

And he didn't feel any type of remorse or shame doing that.

The only thing that bothered him was the intensity of her grief. The grief she very intricately hid amidst her smiles. He never had a clue that she came with a silver lining and when it was unwrapped, it had so many secluded layers. This was one among them, he was sure.

It astounded him, precisely, his tears astounded him.

He has never cried. Never the one to cry.

What is she doing to me?

Asad's hand tapped the steering wheel, then his fingers went to mess up his hair. The next second he was clutching the wheel again until his knuckles turned white.

He felt restless now. Leaving her and Jesima in the cemetery worried him. Will she cry more? The thought hardened his hold but he wouldn't do something, anything other than her wish.

Letting her walk on thorns, his heart felt each prick.

Each passing second increased his agony. Making him have second thoughts. Should he go out and check on her? What if they needed him?

His eyes searched the parking lot for the eighth time in the past hour and the ringing of his phone silenced his worries for a moment. He attended the call via Bluetooth, his vision traveling to the mirror, looking at his face. Crease lines, a frown, and disheveled hair. This was not Asad.

"Koun margaya?"

"Kya?"

"Who died?"

"I understand Urdu, twin," Asad rolled his eyes, combing his midnight-black strands of hair.

"Which important person died that you had to go to the cemetery, leaving my engagement?"

"No one. Is my absence bothering you?"

"Do you want me to write it on paper?"

"If you could-"

"Asad."

"Samad," He called his twin's name, the corners of his lips turning into a smile. "You are acting unlike yourself. The last time I checked you are getting engaged, not cutting ties with me. I got some urgent work dude."

"It's wrong of me to have called you, I now know. Even though it's gross to recall, we shared the womb. I misunderstood that we will be together on special days," Samad said, his voice lowering in a pitch, "Thanks for ditching me on my big day."

"Woah! Calm down, twin," Asad chimed, peeking outside and then glancing at the time on his watch, " You are just high on adrenaline."

Getting no reply from Samad, Asad continued to pull his leg, " Guess I left my ability of drama with you. I will be back in five to take it back."

There was a knock on his window. Asad immediately turned to Jesima, his eyes searching her face and then her daughter's. Relief clouded him as he viewed the peace on their faces.

"Drama twin, stop whining, your Mama will come back."

"I am cutting the call now," Samad groaned.

"Thank you for easing my job," Asad replied, opening the car door.

"Everything okay?"

Jesima smiled tiredly, "Yes, thanks."

Asad peeked at Asma for reassurance and she nodded, putting his heart to ease.

They boarded the car and Jesima fell asleep within a few minutes. As he drove, his gaze ran again and again to the back seat.

"I am alright, Asad."

"Yeah! Okay!" his voice was unsure.

"Really." Asma pressed her lips into a reassuring smile, it wasn't forced to show that she was okay, it was something else. It formed two perfect semi-circles on either side of her cheek. And it reached her eyes. But-

But it didn't calm him. It set him on fire.

Don't ... Don't smile. It puts my heart into a never-ending race.

His breathing hitched. Suddenly the cold air conditioning of the car started to suffocate him.

"You.. Do you want me to open the windows?" He asked hurriedly.

Asma skimmed him quizzically before giving a slight nod.

In order not to let the whiff of air wake Jesima, Asad lowered the window partly. He leaned a bit to his left, letting thick air enter his lungs. His focus was now completely on the road instead of the road of his heart.

The blurry sound of speed immersed into the chill wind filled his ears. And in no time they were back. Before waking Jesima, Asad went to the trunk of the car to retrieve Asma's wheelchair.

He held it tight when she slipped into it from the car. He was about to move towards the passenger seat when she addressed him.

"Thank you."

Turning to her, he shook his head as if it wasn't a big deal.

"It isn't something small, Asad. It meant a lot to me," Asma gleamed, rolling her wheels in his direction, "So Thank you," She said sincerely.

"The pleasure has been mine," He thought. "How was it?" He asked instead.

"Wonderful," She grinned, making him go into a daze. He had imagined her to be emotional but she always defeated his imagination. "I met my Dad. Even though in a cemetery. It was my dream to meet him, Asad."

"You fulfilled it."

"I-"

"I called him Abba. I talked to him with Mama by my side. I saw her happiness. We have cried so much in seclusion, it's time we live the reality instead of living the grief of it-"

What is this girl?

"And I almost didn't want to come back because my family was finally complete."

Asma looked at him expectantly but he couldn't phrase any reply. She then lowered her gaze to the pavement understandingly. She knows she can be a lot to take in.

Asad nodded after a few seconds, feeling thousands of things. Her words, her actions, everything caused a tsunami of change in his perceptions, his beliefs, and his views of life.

At last, Change occupied his heart.

•~•~•

I am a lit candle, you are the breeze

you hold the power

to keep me lighted or extinguish me in a whiff