Rain is me <3 by Dreamer _ (highly illogical behavior TXT) 📕

to chat so often. Zoufishan’s simple & reserved nature never allowed her to make a Facebook account.

I clearly remember the last time I met Zoof.

That day, she told me that her mother has passed away. She was extremely sad. Zoufishan used to cry very rarely, but I saw her crying so badly that day.

After that, she told me that she was leaving for Jabalpur, MP.

Jabalpur was her home city.

Her parents had sent her to Chandigarh when she was very young to her auntie’s house so that she can complete her studies here.

That day, when I met Zoufishan for the last time, I asked her that when will be meeting again. She answered by saying ‘very soon’. But unfortunately, I’ve not even heard her lovely voice since that day.

It’s not that I didn’t try to meet her or get any news of her. I did every possible thing to just know whether she was alright or not.

I called her several times but she never picked up my phone.

I eventually stopped calling her when on a day I came to know that her mobile number was allotted to someone else.

I asked Fadila & Haya & all my friends about her, but no one really had any idea about where she was.

At last, I went to Jabalpur too. Zoufishan had given me her house’s address once & so I went to her house in Jabalpur.

But, I found that her house was locked.

I tried to ask some people of the neighborhood about her, but they just told me that her whole family had shifted somewhere else & this house is kept on sale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#

“Hey, Hila! What were you doing for the whole night?” Feruza said, brushing her teeth.

I immediately looked at the wall clock. It was 7:55 AM.

“What?” I was shocked. I was thinking about the meadow for the whole night.

“You were thinking something, right?” Feruza said, coming near to me.

“Yeah…” I yawned & got out of bed.

“What is it?” She asked.

“I was just thinking about my long-separated friends…” I sighed.

“You mean- Fadila, Haya & Zoufishan?” Feruza knew everything about me.

“Yeah, dear…” I said, going inside the washroom.

After I was done, I came out of the washroom & stood in front of the mirror.

My eyes lingered upon a new bottle of compact make-up foundation. I was sure that it was Feruza’s. She loved to apply make-up.

“Feruza, you should not apply too much make-up on your skin… You’re just in ninth standard & you very well know that it is not at all good for your skin!” I always tried to explain her bad sides of doing too much of make-up.

“I know, Hila. But you see, I’m not as beautiful as you are… So, I need to do make-up!” She replied, instantly.

She was wearing her school-uniform.

“Who told you that you’re not beautiful & who told you that make-up makes one beautiful?” I asked her with a frowning expression.

“No one told me that, but I clearly know it. Because it’s true…” She replied, a little sadly.

“I know you won’t understand! But, please don’t ever say that you’re not beautiful! You are the most beautiful & beloved person of my life.” I said, pinching her pink cheeks.

She smiled & said, “But I thought that it was Zoufishan…”

I coughed.

“She’s number two! And I’m just asking you to apply less make-up… And see, I don’t apply even a bit!” I said.

“Hmm… Okay!” She kissed me & left for her school.

I inhaled deeply.

From my window, I could see small puddles on the road filled with rainwater.

I tied a ponytail, took my cell phone & put on a pair of sandals on my feet.

“Where are you going, Hila?” Mom shouted, as I went out of the house.

“Just on a short walk… I’ll come back soon!” I answered, closing the gate.

Our locality is green & clean, but not as clean as the Mawlynnong Village.

I slowly walked on the road.

It was not raining today, but there were large puddles everywhere on the road.

When we were in school, I remember that Zoufishan always avoided the puddles on the road because she was afraid of getting wet.

But, I used to jump on them & laugh. There is no point in being scared of getting wet, because the rainwater always dries. And it is like taking a bath.

After a while, Zoufishan used to get jealous of my fun & she used to join me.

When we used to get tired of dancing in water, we used to sit down on the curb to dry ourselves.

But those things are only in my memories today.

I walked further & further and my eyes spotted a vada-pav stall on the way. A spicy aroma of garlic, potatoes, coriander & onions wafted through the air.

It was a small, blackened-with-grease stall besieged by people. I joined in & shouted my order, “One vada-pav.” After waiting for a few minutes, I finally got my hands cupped around my vada-pav.

I quickly crushed my teeth into it & wow! That was vada-pav heaven! The batter was crisp; the potatoes were cooked to perfection & the delicious garlic chutney was divine. And I felt top of the world while eating it.

I gave 35 rupees to the shopkeeper & walked further.

The puddle in front of me looked refreshing & I took off my sandals so I could rest my bare feet in it. It was cold, but not a winter cold, so I stayed. The surface of the water formed circles & shimmered as I put my feet on it.

I could see reflections of people passing by me in that puddle. I sat on a large rock near that puddle & began staring different people in it.

This puddle might show me a beautiful girl or an old, ragged woman, I thought. The water in the puddle looked still, but I knew that it will go, like the sorrows go from our lives.

Water comes & goes. The puddles get smaller & smaller, until they disappear. And when they rain down again, they bring something new, new reflections of people & new voices.

I love to meet new people & make new friends, but it’s not that I’ll forget my old beloved friends. I’ll never forget Fadila, Haya & especially my Zoof, I thought to myself.

 

I heard my phone was ringing.

I picked up the call. It was mom’s call & she was asking me to come back to home.

I checked the time. It was 9:30 AM. I had been watching inside that puddle for almost two hours. People passing by me would have thought that I’m mad, but I love to observe what others don’t.

I stood up & walked to my home.

“Yes, mom?” I shouted, opening the house gate.

“Hila!” I heard the voice of my dearest auntie.

I was astounded. I ran inside.

“Haw! Auntie” I cried in happiness & hugged her tightly. She kissed me.

My auntie was a cute, plump lady. She loved to give as well as get kisses.

I kissed her back.

“Heelu!” My happy-go-lucky uncle ran towards me with a smile.

He was a rangy person with a fit body. And he was also the jolliest person I’ve ever seen.

I hugged him.

I love my uncle & auntie & yes, my little Imtiyaz too.

They were the best among all of our relatives.

“Oh! Where’s my cutie Imtiyaz?” I shrilled.

Imtiyaz was my little, two years old, cousin brother.

“He’s there, dear…” Auntie pointed towards the kitchen.

I nodded & ran in the kitchen. He was playing with Noori. Noori was uncle & auntie’s pet kitten.

“Hey, little cutie!” I said & held him softly in my arms.

He giggled at me & I messed with his fluffy, smooth & brown hair.

“So, have you taken proper care of Noori?” I asked him, smiling.

He tried to say ‘yes’ in his petite, childish voice, but it was not so clear.

He looked up at me & I could see the happiness in his blue eyes. His lovely eyes were round & big & his smile was cute & wide, forming dimples on his rosy cheeks.

I kissed his forehead & took him & Noori into the drawing room.

Noori was a cute kitten & was furry & white. She purred softly as I brushed my hand on her head.

“Auntie, have you told your butter chicken’s recipe to mom?” I said, gently putting Imtiyaz & Noori on the couch.

Auntie laughed. She said after a few seconds, “Why don’t we cook it today only?”

My face shimmered.

“Yeah, of course!” I yelled. As I’ve already said, I love chicken.

“Hila?” Mom hissed & stopped me from being so over-excited.

“Sorry, mum…” I whispered.

“It’s okay; we all will cook it today only!” Uncle yammered, laughing.

I nodded, happily. Actually not only I, but everyone in our family love to eat & cook chicken.

My uncle & auntie were the most joyful & happy-go-lucky people I knew on the Earth.

They had two children & both of them were boys. One was little Imtiyaz & the other was sixteen-year old Faizal.

Faizal was a scowled & cheeky boy. He was always angry with everyone due to some reason & didn’t like to go anywhere. His mouth only uttered offensive words & due to this, he was never taken anywhere by uncle & auntie.

But, Faizal was very brilliant at studies.

But, just being good at studies doesn’t means that you are actually good.

I don’t like him at all; he was a rubbish tartar.

Mum, dad, uncle & auntie assembled inside the kitchen & I knew that they would take at least four hours to cook the grand feast of butter chicken. So, I decided to do some work in the meantime. I found Imtiyaz was already asleep on the couch. I wrapped a soft quilt around him & made him sleep on the bed. Also, I gave a bowl of hot milk to Noori & placed her on the platform of the kitchen.

I went upstairs to my room & took Feruza’s laptop & opened my Facebook account in it.

I moved the scroll bar down & just then my eyes lingered upon a photograph album. It was uploaded by Fadila. I was shocked. That was the first time she had uploaded her photographs on Facebook. I quickly opened the album. And there, I was mesmerized!

Fadila had uploaded photos of our last trip to Mawlynnong village.

She had uploaded that photograph too which was my favorite. In that photo, I was curled around Zoufishan’s neck, Haya was making a grotesque face & Fadila was clicking the photo. It was a wonderful selfie.

Those photographs again refreshed my memories of all our trips to that meadow. And once again I began missing my Zoof, Fadila & Haya.

Fadila had captioned the album by writing, ‘My lovely Girlfriends- Zoof, Heelu & Haya!”

I was overwhelmed. I quickly liked the photo & commented on it by writing, ‘Love you so much my Simple Simon!’

Then I closed my Facebook account & went out to the balcony.

My eyes gleamed in the bright rays of Sun.

I stretched & thought that somewhere Zoof too might be watching this Sun.

I smirked & came back to my room.

Taking a red pen, I began checking some test copies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#

When I was a kid, my dream was to become a fashion designer. I used to design costumes out of paper for myself & people used to appreciate my creativity, fashion-sense & trendiness in everything.

So, I used to think that what else would be better for me than to become a fashion designer? And I decided that I’ve to become a fashion designer.

But things changes as we grow up. When I grew up, I realized that all I wanted in life was to be ‘happy’.

Yes, I used to like designing clothes in my childhood but it didn’t really make me happy.

I realized that it was actually not my dream; it was a dream that my mind forced me to choose.

And so, when I grew up, I chose that dream which my heart forced me to choose; the dream that can make me truly happy.

I chose the profession of ‘teaching’.

Yes, I’m a teacher. And I’m very happy with this.

I chose my profession as teaching because of many reasons. Because, I love