A Dusty World- II

As Saad peeled off his virtual reality headset, a jolt of awareness shot through him, pulling him back from the vibrant, dangerous world of Seraphia. The room around him was dark, illuminated only by the soft, ghostly glow of the moon. The transition from the adrenaline-soaked battles of the game to the stark reality of his cluttered bedroom was always disorienting.

He stretched his arms and legs, feeling the stiffness in his muscles from hours of combat and exploration. The bed beneath him, an old, worn-out mattress, did little to provide comfort. It had seen better days, and now his back ached as a testament to its unforgiving surface.

Saad's gaze wandered around the room, searching for signs of life. He realized that nobody had come to remind him about tea or dinner. His stomach grumbled, a reminder of the physical world's needs that had been temporarily forgotten.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up and ventured into the small kitchen area. The room was silent, and the cold leftovers on his plate were a stark reminder that he was alone. Haroon and Amir had long retired to their own worlds of slumber.

Saad ate in solitude, the silence echoing in the small space. Loneliness gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, but he pushed those feelings aside, pretending not to care. He was used to this silence, to the isolation. Still, the weight of it settled in his chest as he chewed his food.

He took his phone out, and he couldn't resist the urge to check his YouTube channel. The number of new views was disappointingly low, a stark contrast to the excitement and achievement he had felt in the game. Doubt crept in as he stared at the screen. Would he ever make it big as a content creator and gamer? How would he manage his share of the rent and bills next month? The uncertainty pressed down on him, making the food taste like ash in his mouth.

A heavy feeling settled over him, and he wondered why these thoughts were creeping in now, after the exhilaration of his virtual adventures. He pushed his plate away, stood up, and mechanically put the leftovers in the fridge. Returning to his small, uncomfortable bed, he lay there in the dimly lit room, staring at the ceiling. Sleep eluded him that night as the weight of reality bore down on him.

Morning seeped through the curtains, casting a soft, golden hue across Saad's room. The routine of the real world awaited him, and he moved through it in a daze. He splashed his face with water, the droplets momentarily waking him from his thoughts. As he considered the need for a shave when he returned home, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the decisions he had to make.

After completing his morning prayer, he sat down at the road side café for the breakfast, the silence of his own mind deafening. Amir's continued rudeness was like an abrasive background noise, a constant reminder of the tension that had developed between them due to the game. Haroon being the older, brotherly figure he was, couldn't help it.

"Saad, are you okay? You don't look well." Haroon sounded genuinely concerned.

"Why are you even asking him, Haroon?" Amir's voice cut through the sounds around them like a knife. He leaned back in his chair, a disappointed look playing in his eyes with an irritating smirk. "Isn't it obvious that it's that damn game? Kids like him only learn after they do a huge blunder."

Haroon, sitting across from Saad, shot Amir a reproachful look. "Come on, Amir. Lay off, will you? Saad, is something bothering you? You can share."

Saad, however, didn't want to respond to either of them. But he had to – Obligations of society.

"It's nothing serious, brother Haroon. Everything is fine. Just the mattress is really hard. I am thinking of getting a new one." He made and excuse and Haroon nodded.

"Don't worry. I will get one from my home, this time when I go." He told Saad and he smiled.

He felt drained, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. His mind was consumed by a whirlwind of concerns about his real-world responsibilities and the uncertainty of his future. The game that had once brought him joy now felt like an escape, and he found himself caught between two worlds, each demanding his attention in its own way.

Amir's behavior continued to grate on his nerves, but Saad found himself strangely indifferent. He had more pressing concerns on his mind, ones he knew he had to face alone. Speaking to Haroon about his worries wouldn't solve anything; he needed to figure it out himself.

In the midst of this inner turmoil, Saad's everyday routine continued, but it felt like he was moving through it like a ghost, disconnected from the world around him. The future loomed uncertain, and he knew he had to find a way to reconcile the two worlds he inhabited – one of fantasy and adventure, and the other of bills, responsibilities, and self-doubt.

----------------------------------

Inside the bustling garment factory, the relentless symphony of sewing machines provided the rhythm of the workday. Farooq stepped away momentarily, leaving Saad and Zafar to fill the temporary void with conversation.

Zafar, a middle-aged man with calloused hands, always had something to share, especially during these short breaks. He leaned in towards Saad, the edges of his eyes crinkling as he began to speak about one of his cousin's sons. The excitement in his voice was palpable, and it was evident that this topic was close to his heart.

"You know, Saad," Zafar started, his voice barely audible over the sewing machines, "my cousin's son is going to Dubai next month. His father had to sell two plots of land for his ticket and initial expenses, but once he settles down there, he's going to call his family."

As Zafar spoke, Saad couldn't help but sense the yearning in the older man's voice. It was as if Zafar was living vicariously through his cousin's son, imagining what life could be like beyond the factory walls, in a distant land of opportunities.

Saad nodded in understanding, empathizing with Zafar's sentiments. He knew that many in their situation longed for a way out, a chance to escape the grind of daily life in pursuit of a brighter future. But as Zafar continued to speak, Saad couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment, not towards Zafar, but towards the unknown cousin's son who seemed to have found his ticket out of this challenging life.

"You're right, Zafar," Saad said, offering what he hoped were comforting words. "Those who have the means to go abroad for work are indeed lucky. It's a tough decision for families to make, selling land and investing in someone's future, but it can pay off in the long run."

Deep down, however, Saad knew that his words were somewhat hollow. He, too, felt a sense of envy towards the cousin's son who was about to embark on a journey to what must have seemed like a land of endless opportunities. He shared Zafar's dreams of escaping the drudgery of their current life, but the reality of their situation weighed heavily on him. Leaving wasn't an option for Saad, not with the responsibilities he had in the real world.

"You know, Saad," Zafar said with a sigh, "I've seen so many young lads like you come and go. Some of them, they leave for good jobs abroad, just like my cousin's son. But most, they never return. It's as if this place swallows them whole, and they become a part of this never-ending cycle of work and struggle."

Saad listened intently, his own thoughts resonating with Zafar's words. It was true; he had seen his fair share of friends and acquaintances who had left for opportunities abroad and never looked back. The allure of a better life, higher wages, and improved living conditions was undeniable. He would do the same if he could.

"But what about you, Zafar?" Saad asked, genuinely curious about his coworker's perspective. "Do you ever think about leaving all this behind and starting fresh in a new place?"

Zafar's gaze turned distant, his eyes fixed on the whirring sewing machines as if searching for an answer among the mechanical motions. "Of course, Saad," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "Who wouldn't dream of a life where you don't have to worry about making ends meet, where you can provide for your family without counting every penny? But dreams and reality, they're two very different things."

Saad nodded in agreement, understanding all too well the divide between aspirations and the harsh circumstances that often kept those dreams from becoming reality. "I get it, Zafar," he said softly. "Sometimes, it feels like we're trapped in this never-ending cycle, and no matter how hard we work, how much we save, it's never enough to break free."

Zafar's weary smile conveyed years of wisdom. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Saad. Don't let this place swallow you whole. Keep working hard, save what you can, and who knows? Maybe one day, you'll find that opportunity to change your life for the better."

As the conversation faded into the background of the bustling factory, Saad couldn't help but reflect on their exchange. It was a sobering reminder of the dreams and aspirations that many shared within the confines of their challenging lives. Despite the odds, the hope for a brighter future persisted, a flicker of light in the midst of the factory's relentless machinery.

The heaviness on his heart lessened a lot.