A Smile from the East - 2016

 

I couldn't even grasp the fact that time had passed by so quickly and now the damned blank paper was staring at me. I wanted to go back to my dreams and forget about the exam. Studying for weeks made solitude a kind companion in the empty apartment. The silence broke when the secretary had announced that only two hours were left to finish our topics. The fact that we had to stay there without a break for four long hours was tiresome nonetheless.

The blankness of the page scared me. Why do people say then, that when confronted with an empty space, a man feels the need to fill it? I could not write, neither for a commission, nor when faced with a deadline. But it was critical now. The vast wall between my insecurities and  knowledge seemed impenetrable. The clock ticked and my classmates' pens danced uncontrollably on the sheets of paper. Sweat covered my forehead and my palms drowned the napkin I was holding between my fingers.

This is the final step and after four hours I would be free. I put the black pen, the one mom gave me when I was fifteen, on the paper. To my surprise, the first questions could easily be solved in ten minutes.

I raised my head and noticed the supervising professor using earphones while surveying the amphitheater full of nervous students. A flutter inside my chest broke the stillness which usually trapped me in my own bubble. Without realizing, I found myself humming.  Six months ago, Daren sent me one of the most beautiful things a woman could dream of receiving in her twenties. However, before finding out what it was, I had felt sick for days, lonely and drowning in my anxiety because he completely cut me off. After all, I lived alone in the two bedroom apartment my parents helped me rent, and he was the one who would brighten up my nights.

Word by word my pulse was racing as I read his messages."I am going to tell you something now. I know it's upsetting and uneasy but you have to understand. What I am about to do is not what it seems, and in the end you will rejoice."

"What are you talking about?" I typed as fast as I could.

"I am going to disappear for a while and you will have to get by on your own. Be good and take care, don't get upset because I am doing this only for you. And I need to miss you. I hope you understand." These where the last words he wrote. 

Daren Branwen has been taking piano lessons since he was eight. His parents were divorced and he lived with his mother most of the time. Later in life he would approach his father only when he had a problem with his university loan.

"My family does not understand me as well as you, seeing me for what I really am" he would often write when we used to chat during the weekends.

What stood out about him is that he had a refined taste in music as well as great hunting skills. He was acquainted with hunting, ever since his mother had gifted him a crossbow. In 2008 Daren was offered a summer job at a fancy seafood restaurant in the city. From 8 to 11 at night he had to play the piano in the background. It was there when we first spoke to each other. He zeroed in on me, sensing my vulnerability.

Awoken from my daydream, I realized that only one hour remained and there were still two more points to be approached. The last was a cardiology question. Someone comes to an emergency room with a cardiac arrest. What is the first medication that should be given to the patient, but which is not contraindicated with antiplates? I think I would give him intravenous nitroglycerine.

 

After the exam they asked me to go out with them for a drink. "I am not going with you for coffee now. Sorry. I need to get home." I could never be like them and it was not useful to try and  please them, even though solitude was eating at me from the inside.

"But Zeynab, you have to loosen up a bit girl. You know that nobody would say anything to your cousin if you came with us once in a while. It's not like you don't make your own choices, it's your life after all,” Celina used to say. She was closer to me than the other girls at university.

I couldn't care less about what Rashad would say to my parents. If he saw me going out with guys or clubbing, or even if I wore something that back home would be looked upon with prejudice.

About my cousin’s mindfulness of me, this was only an excuse I told the girls from my group whenever I wanted to avoid them. Besides, Rashad himself felt free to do as he pleased and enjoy the liberties of England.

 

Three weeks later I found myself in a cafe with my colleagues. They were all drinking, celebrating their BA degree with flying colors. Rashad didn't come today, although he'd wanted to. Although I had asked him to. At least I would not feel so detached if he was here. Even when I am not wearing hijab, people would still sense that I don't belong. The reason he gave me is that he wouldn't stay in a place where there were only women. He wouldn't feel manly enough, because "you know, girls' discussions are not interesting".

I went to the bar and ordered another espresso. The girl behind kept staring at me. Her eyes piercing measuring me from head to toe. I guess I reminded her of an acquaintance or something because it was more than a casual interest that gave her away. My accent was alright and I wore a mint sleeveless cocktail dress. I guess this didn't count as much as I thought. It's the westerner's fascination with us .... Surprisingly, when I got back to my seat she smiled at me. The girl had long black hair, it looked healthy and strong despite the white highlights on the left side. It reached her waist and fluttered marvelously against her body. There was something strange about her beauty and the way she carried herself.

I sat down and observed the young lady in all her wonder, till I noticed that only thirty minutes later Celina convinced all others to have some booze and live it up. She was the daredevil in our class. As usual, I couldn't say no to them because they would start again with the cultural barriers and how oppressed Muslim women are. 

"Try some, Zeynab. It's not as heavy as normal beer and besides, it's apple cider. Don't worry if you feel a bit lightheaded we're going to take you home safely". Of course she would offer me something alcoholic. Not once, in my few attempts to go out with them for a drink, did she order coffee, lemonade or juice.

"Sure, thanks".

After they all finished their drinks, Celina volunteered to share a cab and get me home. Many times had she offered to give me a ride, but the reason was that she wanted to see my cousin. Celina had taken an interest in Rashad Salem since he introduced me to the group for my year of study.

I refused and went alone.

 

I didn't go home anyway. I had to visit Darren because he wouldn't stop messaging me with threats about releasing some photographs of us when we were together. He wanted me to go to his place and talk like adults about responsibilities and such.

"Hi Daren..."

He welcomed me with hugs and opened the door with a red rose in his hand. He had been waiting for me on his porch, outside. He knew how to mess with girls minds, Daren was so versed in this no doubt. "Hey sweetheart!"

We were in his kitchen, drinking the coffee I had bought on my way there when he opened the discussion.

"Zeynab listen to me. You're just one person, fighting against the odds of an entire nation and the objections of all your sand-monkeys."

"No Darren. I was just an object for you to manipulate and destroy without any remorse. You hunt women like they are sexual trophies for you to hang on your long list."

His anger took over him and lashed out.

"Is that how your love for me speaks now? I see." He grabbed my waist and pushed his lips towards mine, uncontrollably, biting them. He stroked my cheek one moment and in the next I found myself choked and pressed against the wall. "You are going to get rid of this problem as soon as possible otherwise I am going to release some really interesting photos of you for your towelhead cousin to jack off at."

"Please let me go or I am going to call the police."

"You're too coward to do that. You are too coward to tell your raghead father about the child you're carrying now. This is why, my darling, you fucking have to abort it. I ain't gonna raise no camel jockey."

He held my wrist so tight I was left with a bruise. In the beginning he was so calm ... Whenever I spoke to him it felt so strange because he seemed to barely draw a breath in an hour. To be honest, his dark character attracted me too, but I had no idea he would become this creature.

"Alright, alright. You are very rational Darren, you're right. I am going to a clinic next Monday. I can't explain this pregnancy to my parents and..."

"You see my point Zay? Sweetheart?” The smile on his lips did not match the fear that he pointlessly tried to hide in his eyes.

I stayed few hours more with him, ending up in bed again.

Trying to be as silent as I could, I grabbed my clothes and ran out the door.

I don't even know how I got home. Walking with a bleeding heart, coming to terms with the decision I made few days ago, I took a few steps and found myself on the roof, it was midnight. The sky full of stars, shimmering the way his eyes did, full of wonder.

It was a real world out there that I had to face it. Laying down on my back, I decided that I would never go back to whom I had been.

The silence was so dark, it was the right moment to get lost in the song he had composed for me as a gift for my 24th birthday. He named it "A Smile from the East" and said that all the notes are the expression of how he felt for me. It was a beautiful pain however. I was relieved now that it was over, but at the same time my soul was divided into million shards.

Whether it was today or tomorrow, nothing would change my mind. I was at war with the winter that was about to come from the desert. But it would not move me one bit. This love, even broken as it was, gave me the power to shine as a flame inside the darkness my world. 

The warm sunrays woke me up in the morning. I hadn't realized when I had fallen asleep and the cold breeze was like an ointment for my still-bleeding wounds.

 

Hours later that day my cousin came by.

"What is his name?" Rashad's anger flushed upon his cheeks and the white of his eyes was stained with bloody veins. He had been drinking again. I was still anxious myself from the previous night.

"I ended the relationship." I said trying to sound as calm as I could, although I felt like a fishbone was stuck in my throat.

He sat down on the couch we had bought together in my first days here and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket.

"I don't want to do this to you Zeynab, and I don't want to be held responsible for your negligence." He puffed the smoke toward the ceiling and took a sip from the black tea I had prepared for him.

"You're wasting your time assuming I'm the same as you. Some are stronger than others, and I'm ready to face the consequences of my choice. I don't need a special reason or someone to back me up when baba will ask me about it. I know it sounds crazy but sometimes I think I'm not the only one who believes women have a say in who they want to be with and when." However, it didn't matter anymore.

Couple of months ago I saw the cracks in Daren's mask of sanity and in the fantasy love he offered me on a plate. He had been involved in another affair. He was wooing two women at the same time. No wonder Mr. Branwen was always busy and leaving inexplicably for unaccounted periods of times whenever I needed him.

I had to call for an restraining order because he wouldn't stop keeping tabs on me and periodically circling around me everywhere I went, like a  vulture waiting to feast on its soon-to-be dead meal.

Rashad looked at me disappointed and clenched his fist. He came up to me and grabbed my shoulders. "Do me a favor and go to sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow. This isn't why we came here, and your father will know about your affair soon. Your mother said from the beginning that it wasn't a good idea for you to come and study here. You shouldn't have ever been allowed to live by yourself in a foreign country."

And then my cousin started to bring up all the examples of how women can easily be seen as whores. And about the pride of hiding your own body and revealing it only for the eyes of a husband. And the reasons unmarried girls should not be talking or going out with other men besides the family.

"Rashad habibi, we both know you don't believe that as much as our society does. I admit I've made a terrible mistake. But even so, do you think you're on the safe side because you are a man?"

He sat down again and pulled the ashtray closer to him. Putting his left hand to his  temple, my cousin lowered his gaze and lit another cigarette. But I continued my speech anyway.

"You are talking about marriage Rashad. But let me ask you how does this business, I can't call it otherwise, sound to you when there is a dowry that must be payed, and it's a shit load of money. Honestly, you can't be serious. There's another way, a different path, not necessarily wrong, an alternative that I know appeals to you even if you don't want to admit."

He finished his cigarette and stormed through the door slamming it in my face.

After five minutes he came back with a bottle of cognac. "I had no idea you were capable of this Zezee! You betrayed your parent's honor and they will have to face the gossip of everyone back home! Well, at least you are safe now. You should have told me before calling the police, but this is fine too." He poured a glass and looked away, avoiding my eyes because he knew it's  haram and back home they would repudiate him for this.

"Let me be clear Rashad, I've no doubt that you lash out at me like this because you have been wearing this responsibility on your shoulders. And I'm aware that sometimes I'm nothing more than a burden for you. Our folks at home look up to you, and ask you to take care of me. It's up to you to prove to them that their investment in both of us is fruitful. You're going to be an excellent surgeon. But ...."

He put his coup down and stood up to hug me. "We are both going to be good surgeons. Now that this is over. But Zeezee, you embarked on this path without thinking that there is no mercy where you come from, neither in the people nor in the land."

He wouldn't cry in front of anyone. This is what they teach men back home, a real man mustn't cry. Young boys grow up being taught this way.

"But I see it in you Rashad, in your eyes and the way you look out for me, even though you claim to boss me around only out of duty. "

 

            The bell rang.

            I had a hunch that she planned to come over today. It was while we were laying down on the balcony smoking, that somehow I heard her low voice. This peculiar thing had happened before, especially about Daren whenever he was few streets away or a few minutes before calling me.

Rashad went to open the door after silently questioning me with his eyes. I shook my head in disagreement and put a blouse on.

Celina seemed relieved that she saw him there.

"You forgetful girl, where's your head? I hope not in the clouds," she giggled. "You left your jacket in the back of my car and I thought you might need it, it looks stormy enough, don't you think?" She waited for us to invite her in with a dumb smile on her face.

"Hello Celie, come in", Rashad said showing her the living room.

I went to the kitchen to put more coal on the stove for my unexpected guest. When I returned to them, I've noticed that Celina's laughter was full of hope. Her emotions were so raw that they reminded me of my utopian moments with Daren.

We sat down on the balcony smoking together, but I was mostly idle. He talked about future possibilities for medical residency, and Celina shared too. Rashad look happy having her there, distracting his mind.

It was one AM, the silence surrounded the three of us, each lost in our thoughts, when Celina stood up and leaned against the handrail.

"It is good to be home, but I enjoy it a lot when I am away. I am really happy in England. There aren't so many restrictions, and it feels like I'm in charge of my life. Being home means you have to go by rules. I had to get back by a certain time, couldn't spend nights out, and I was always bound to tell my folks where I was going and when I would be back. However, it all depends on the person. My brother, Rizwan likes it more with his family back home in Romania. But I feel a little different about it all.

Because you miss your birthplace sometimes, you have be mindful of one thing when you are far. Especially when you are low. I miss my bike when I get depressed and discouraged, I'm still longing for the view of the beach and the sea from Constanta. I've got a different bike now and I have the ocean here, but you see... England has a different feel for simple things. At home, I reveled in the landscape of hills and the mountains up in the north, besides the climate was totally different. And nonetheless, there were familiar faces around me.

I get pessimistic sometimes, and the job here is a major reason, salary problems... All other issues revolve around this. No salary means no rent ... and no food. Besides there are other expenses which you have to pay attention to, like the tuition for college. Sometimes I can control the budget and the expenses for my meals, but I can't say the same for paying my landlord. They couldn't even care less if you've got no salary. "Pay or leave the room next month. Adjust your deposit and move". Man, it used to give me a lot of headaches and I felt at my lowest.

Then back to our discussion about homeland, at least no one would do that at home, not my parents at least.

However, need taught me some management skills, and step by step I learned how to budget up to three months. I needed to have a backup. But all in all, I enjoy England. The pubs, malls, the nights out with the guys  and  going everywhere with my friends.

My freedom.

Birmingham is a good place with lots of lovely people and no discrimination of color, cast or religion. They take you as you are, but back home religion is still important when it comes to one's identity."

 

I never knew she had job here, or a brother back home. Rashad seemed a bit impressed, listening to her talking about such serious matters.

From time to time I would excuse myself to bring them tea or sweets only to allow them and myself to be alone for some moments. She stayed till three o'clock in the morning.

Afterwards he left to drive Celina back home, I figured that I no longer own a sky without stars. The first was named after him. Rashad wiped the dust off my parent's knife only to bury it deep in the ground. He wasn't going to tell baba about this, but only reacted this way because he knew Daren Branwen was a psychopath and I was too blind to see it.

Minute by minute the light was dimming and it started to rain. On the horizon I saw my heavens fading away. I will be alright, however my heart will, from now on, be captured inside bars.