|Arrogance|
An AsYa One-Shot
---
"Arrogance is a creature. It does not have
senses.
It has only a sharp
tongue and the pointing finger."
-Toba Beta
Should I have said 'thank you' when he rescued me? Should I have said 'sorry' to him when we got home? Should I have tried to explain myself on during our ride back home? Should I have given him a smile when he passed me in the corridor after dinner? Should I have wished him goodnight?
It's true he saved me from getting beaten up. It's true that he came to look for me even though he was immensely mad at me. He did take a bottle in the head to protect me. He beat up those goons black and blue for me. And most of all, he allowed me room in his house even though I had disappointed him and angered him so much. So shouldn't I have been a little nice to the man who, despite being arrogant and proud, had actually lent me a helping hand when I was trouble?
Of course not.
None of this changes the fact that the man has a personal grudge against me, and no matter what I do, he's not going to change his opinion about me. No matter what I say, he's not going to believe me. No matter how I dress, he's always going to think I have no shame. I tried him how I felt about his behavior towards me, but Mr. Akdu never takes me seriously.
'Aur yeh jo aap mujhe baar baar judge kartey hain na, mujhe bilkul accha nahi lagta!'
'Well, that's too bad. Can we go now?'
He will never give me the chance to explain myself. He will never see what I really am; he only sees what he wants to see. What's wrong with going out alone in public? What is so brazen about wearing jeans and shirts? What is so dangerous about staying out late? I don't know. But Zille-Illahi has his orthodox, meaningless reasons. Now what can I do to break that?
When he already believes that I'm no good, that I'm just some messy New York girl who fools around and never do anything right, what can I possibly do to prove him wrong? How do I show him that I'm not the heartless, selfish bitch he thinks I am? How do I tell him that I'm sorry if he doesn't want to listen to me? How do I say anything at all if he keeps turning away from me?
Allah miya! What's wrong with me?
Why should I care if he thinks I'm at fault? Why should I give a damn about an apology? Why am I even thinking of apologizing to him? Mr. Asad Ahmed Khan, who does not know how to pronounce the word 'sorry', would he understand what I meant if I really did say sorry to him? He would have to hunt for a dictionary on that laptop of his before he figures out what I said, before which he is bound to throw a few screams my way.
Ugh. There's no way I'm saying sorry to him. If he can be Mr. Akdu, then I can also be Mrs. Akdu.
Wait. What? Mrs. Akdu? I meant Ms. Akdu, didn't I? Yeah, that's what I meant. Oh, my head has stopped working. I should just go to sleep.
----
I should just go and say sorry. It's my fault she got hurt. It's my fault she was alone at the railway station at midnight. It's because of me that she got a cut on her lips. Those men! If only I had reached a little earlier, they would not have had the guts to even touch a strand of Zoya's beautiful hair.
Why am I thinking of Zoya's hair in the middle of the night?
This girl will be the death of me, I swear! Firstly, she has the nerve to stay under my roof and break my rules, then she decides that she wants to lie to my face about them, and provoke my baby sister to become a fraud like her, and then she befools my mother to believe that she's just a 'bechaari' and then she expects me to say sorry? Is she mad?
No, wait. She never expected a sorry from me. I am expecting a sorry from myself. Why am I even thinking about it? Why should I regret screaming at her today? It was her fault, not mine.
Why am I even thinking about her? This New York girl is driving me nuts. Frustrated, I closed my eyes for a second. My head hurt and the first scene that flashed in front of was that of the man standing a few feet apart from us, with a bottle in hand, ready to smash Zoya's head with it. I opened my eyes with a start, and I felt my heart beating fast, and my pulse racing.
What if he had hit her? What if I had been a millisecond late? Would she have gotten hurt?
No, that wouldn't have happened. I would have never allowed a wound on her body. Not as long as I lived. I would have died a thousand deaths before a scratch spoiled her beautiful skin. Those soft, creamy hands...
Woah! Why am I imagining Zoya's hands? I shook my head to drive her images out of my head.
A tiny voice inside me said, 'It would have been your fault if anything happened to her. You should go and say sorry.' Maybe I was a little too harsh on her. She deserved a break. She was new to this country and it's traditions. She needed a little time to get used to the feel. Its not right on my part to rebuke every time she does something wrong. She's human, and she's bound to make a few mistakes, just like everybody else.
Few mistakes? That girl has been blundering ever since she set foot in this country. It is completely and entirely her fault. I am not saying sorry for something that I'm not responsible for. That is none of my business.
I should just go to sleep instead of breaking my head over a girl I'll never ever understand.
---
How'd you like it guys? Do let me know :)
comment:
p_commentcount