Starving

The evening was chilly with December approaching. Hands in jeans pockets and earphones in ears, I walked on the footpath. An SMS reply said,

I got your text, thanks!

OK! I'll be there until 7:00 p.m... Supper with you

I read the first line of text from the notification bar and checked the time: 6:15 p.m. I returned to my flat after purchasing some groceries from the store. I cleared the ashtray, which was the only thing that was needed to be done.

I put the items on the kitchen counter and watched television in the living room to pass the time. The doorbell rang at seven-thirty in the evening. I swung open the door. Aneeqa dashed forward in the same cheerful, evergreen manner, exclaiming, "I apologize for being late."

"It's OK, nothing new about you being late," I said as I walked behind her, smiling. She grinned at me because she knew me.

"How are you, and how are your classes going?" she inquired as she sat on the couch.

"Study should not be brought up here today," I answered.

She raised her eyebrows in confusion as she stared at me. "Alright! So... then what should I ask?" she asked.

"Then nothing; go to the kitchen and prepare something to eat." she looked at me as if I was kidding.

"I'm hungry," I declared.

"Seriously?" she exclaimed.

"Do you seriously think I would offer you food after how upset I am with you?" I said with obvious contempt.

"Why? What happened now?" She inquired, puzzled by my statement.

"You never told me about your book... You didn't think it was vital to tell your only brother, did you?" I explained. It wasn't the only reason, though.

"I was going to tell you about it and the success it had, but Emma told you before," she stated.

"I'm not interested in justifications... you're going directly to the kitchen to cook supper, and I'll wait for you here, watching my favorite show, right?" I said, straightening my legs on the couch with a constant smile.

She then rose to her feet and sneered, "Well! "Let me get some poison for you to cook."

She enjoyed cooking a wide variety of dishes. She liked to do it in her spare time. She was terrific in the kitchen, and she could imitate my mom's cooking style. She called me after she finished preparing supper, and at the dining table, I casually said,

"starving"

"Doesn't seem like," she answered, sliding the plate nearer me.

"What?" I inquired.

"Doesn't look like you're hungry," she remarked, her eyes wide awake, her ponytail thrown back from her shoulder.

What led you to conclude that? "How can you tell if someone isn't hungry?" I was taken aback.

"I'm not sure about someone, but I know about you. You're not hungry." Aneeqa said and added, "It seems like you've got something you want to talk about, but you're a bit hesitant about it." She said, appearing supremely confident in her assertion.

"Ah! You are correct, but how can you know it every time?" I confessed as I lifted the spoon to my mouth.

She scowled and asked, "So, what exactly is it?".

"Concentrate on eating and let me do it; we will talk after that," I said gently this time.

"Then first admire my cooking," she said with a smile.

"Needs improvement, but better than before," I declared with a grin, eating another spoonful in stoic silence.

"I'd kill you someday," she replied.

"Hahahaha, sure thing, but you'll find it hard to kill a Lashari." I had a good laugh.

"Well, a Lashari can murder a Lashari," she mused as she chewed.

"Well, you are a hybrid, not only a Lashari. Anyway, you can now respond better to my sarcasm," I added.

"What sarcasm?" she said and added with resentment. "It's not a joke, Haseeb."

"What?" I shrugged. I shouldn't have said that she was not only a Lashari, but now I could not compensate. I hate apologies, expressions, and emotions.

"Shut up," she said and rose up after she had finished her dinner and remarked, looking at the time, "finish it, I'm waiting,"

"Yup... just coming, you can relax in my room," I said.

She entered the living area and then the bedroom, where she found everything neatly placed and in perfect order. "Your flat seems more like a girl's apartment; even my place isn't as well ordered," she added as I ate, ignoring her unnecessary conversation.

"8:00," she said.

"So what? Do you need to catch a train?" I said sardonically, "Oh, and you can also spend the night here." I added, standing up after finishing my dish.

"That's not going to happen. There's so much work that I need to get done tonight," Aneeqa replied, making up an excuse.

"As you like, but you may also share my flat," I added as I sat near her on the couch.

"Nah! Your flat is far from my workplace, so it's best if we siblings remain away. I don't want your pristine flat to turn into a WWE free-for-all," she remarked, wearing a smile. It was the best thing about her that how easily she used to forget hurtful statements.

"Good cover story," I grinned.

"So? What did you want to talk about?" She inquired.

"Actually, there isn't much I wanted to say. I literally support you in your dreams and high aspirations, and of course, you're doing some great stuff, especially with your book, which is fantastic, but..." I took a break.

"But?"

You can continue anything in Pakistan as well as you know Dad has gotten lonely. He misses us both..." I was about to say something more when she interrupted me and said,

"You wanted to discuss this?" she said with a stupid smile and a nonchalant tone, which irritated me greatly.

"Exactly. And I hope you won't let me down in this regard," I added.

"You wanted to say this, and I thought as if you have a girl you like, or anything about your studies, or a grudge against a professor," she said, laughing this time.

"Well, I guess what I talked about was more significant than such trivial things. And come on, even if I am ever interested in a girl, why would I share it with you?" She had three expectations, and I only addressed one of them when I responded to her laughter.

"Well, you have to share that because I'm curious to know who that lucky one is," she remarked.

"Would you kindly take my point seriously for a moment?" I said

"Look! Seebuuu… You don't think I care about my father? I care, but I'm still here for a few reasons. I'll pay him a visit as soon as possible for at least a month, but I won't be able to return for at least two years."

"For two years?" That made me really angry.

"Because... I mean... for... I've signed a two-year contract with the literary agency. I cannot break that deal, even if I wanted to, because I first took permission from my father," she said by inventing a pathetic explanation. She was ultimately making up the whole story.

"How come you didn't mention it earlier?" I said.

"When you were really busy with your academics," she said, "I remember telling Dad about it."

I stood up and tried to ignore her for a while.

"What now?" Look! Seebu, Dad is content, and I'm receiving a good bit here as well. The stuff I do is quite good, and people like it. She added, "Pakistan does not value the kind of work I do, and they don't care for English literature in general."

You know we don't need your money, and you also know you are not under any pressure to earn." I mean, Dad has plenty of money to spend on us. In terms of writing, your passion can be fulfilled in Pakistan, and English literature is well-accepted, particularly in cities such as Lahore and Karachi. People, especially young people, read the type of books you want to create, but how am I to tell you when you didn't even think that it was vital to say to me about your plans before taking a step?" I answered, dismayed. Even though I knew my words were stupid, they were worth trying.

"I'm sorry I signed that deal," she quietly added.

"Perhaps if you had asked or at the very least informed me, you would not be regretful," I added.

I knew that Aneeqa was lying to me about the contract but pulling the issue in the desired direction.

"What am I supposed to do now?" She said it as though she wanted to get away from the conversation.

"What can I say at this point?" I tried to be as impolite as possible.

"You just focus on your academics here and don't think about home." Dad is OK; I miss him as well, but I'm powerless to do anything about it. "I'm concerned about his loneliness and health, just like you, and I'll pay him a visit soon," she explained.

"I understand," I declared as I strode into the kitchen.

"Where?" she inquired.

I returned with a glass of water and resumed my seat. Aneeqa looked at me, knowing I was upset with her, and asked, in an attempt to change the subject.

"How about I go and make you a cup of coffee?" she asked

"No," I said as succinctly as I could.