The house smelled of saffron again, and Dania could smell it in her sleep. She picked up her phone; it was 9:30 AM, and she sighed, seeing twenty missed calls from Abeer. How could he be so shameless? Does he stay up all night? Another bad day!
She got up, freshened up, and started wearing her college uniform—the widow’s attire. The college felt more like a school to her; they were not allowed to wear makeup, casual clothes, or talk to boys. On every other corner, a strict forty-year-old lecturer-professor was present, yelling at both girls and boys. She felt suffocated. She had told her mother she was not going to college today, but she couldn’t stay at home smelling the saffron all day and cancelling plans. If it were up to her, she would burn the saffron fields altogether.
As soon as she came downstairs, her mother bombarded her with questions: Why are you going now? Why did you say that yesterday? Are you going to college? She had no answers to give, so she picked up an apple and left. On her way to college, she felt a burning rage inside her. It might be a new trick for not giving me bus fare. So cheap. She mostly disliked her middle-class life, while most of her friends came from well-to-do families. Why is it so biased? The order? Money? Why is it so important? She couldn’t tell what Abeer’s good intentions were when he lashed out after she told him she was scared to bunk a whole day at college, or was he just frustrated with her “middle-class thinking”.
As soon as she got up at her stop, she saw Abeer with his friends, the bloody elites. She dumped the apple quickly into her bag and got down to face the gang. “Hi”, Abeer said. Dania forced a smile and walked past them, racing towards any possible classroom. “Dania! Dania! Please listen to me. I am sorry, bro. It’s not a big deal.” Why wasn’t it a big deal? Does he think I’m needy, or simply desperate? Abeer kept up with her pace, grabbed her arm, and demanded they speak. For the most part, he was just convincing her to bunk her classes and go with them. Just chill, Danu. She could hear these words all day.
I am overthinking about such a little thing, everyone bunks a day or two in college. It is not a big deal. How can my parents possibly know that I bunked college? She was too scared of letting her parents know. She can’t. She won’t.
She didn’t see Abeer all day. Every time she opened her bag, it smelled like a rotten apple. When she opened her bag, the apple had indeed gone bad; rotten, mushy, and full of tiny mosquitoes. It embarrassed her, she left the class, emptied her bag, kept her notebook and stationery as it was, threw the apple, and sat there on the yellow bench the whole day. Her eyes welled up, and soon a few teardrops trailed down her cheeks. She saw herself in a saffron field at midnight, running from someone or something, a swarm of mosquitoes. When she loses her breath, she rests under a huge chinar tree in the middle of nowhere. A flash of saffron scent passes her with a sense of being watched or a presence behind her, she turns back and a tall figure with heavy boots and, a black robe appears. As she moves back, he steps on one flower head then another, filling the air around her with the same scent. She screams as she feels pressure on her legs. Same nightmare.
She looked around her, sweating and panting, a girl rushes with a water bottle. A few students who had gathered around the yellow bench began to move aside. Everyone knew her as Abeer’s girlfriend. If it were not for Abeer, no one would notice her. She would die down like the froth of a cold drink. She called Abeer and told him that she was ready to bunk the college tomorrow. He had assured her of everything, timing, car, pick-up point, etc. She was apprehensive about taking such a bold step, but his assurance meant a lot to her.
She got ready in the morning, looking beautiful; she applied kohl to her eyes, coloured her lips a little pinker, mascara, and a hint of mellow blush, just like a muse in an ancient painting. She left reluctantly and got down two stops ahead of her college. It felt like everyone was staring at her, as if they could see through her, into her lies, so she chose to lower her eyes. I might be looking too weird with all the makeup, looking like the girls who along with their boyfriends bunk college and go to Zabarwan, Boulevard, Dargah or Pahalgam.
There he was in his i10. She sat in the passenger seat, and he handed her three red roses, “For my one and only passenger princess.” She blushed but controlling her smile, but couldn’t. Her stomach turned, and she gave Abeer a look. He smiled. She could see his freckles and strands of light brown hair glowing through the sunlight clearly; she realised she had never been so close to him. Their fragrances danced into each other and created a wholesome scent of citrus and oud. She kept her bag in the back seat, settled in, and they moved. They planned to go on a long drive towards the outskirts of the city. It’s beautiful, the saffron fields and all, zabardast. You will remember this day. Now chill. She had never done it before, long drives with a boy, alone. She felt the adrenaline rush through her body, a mix of fear, guilt, and excitement. She had never really done it before, done nothing before, nothing exciting or thrilling. She was just a mediocre student all along.
Abeer was saying something she didn’t understand. Zoned out again! “Lost in your thoughts, are you?” he asked.
“No, no, just a little nervous. It’s my first time bunking…” he did not buy it but continued talking about how pretty she looked today, how she never really puts any effort to groom herself, how his friends look pretty for him, how she should pluck her eyebrows in a certain way, lose weight, wear tighter clothes, stop looking like an aunty, a dead aunty. Again… the same old ranting complaints again, if I don’t make him happy, why doesn’t he find someone else? If his friends are so interested in him, why doesn’t he date them?
“Can you stop this? Is it necessary to bring it up, to tell me how ugly I am? You are free to date anyone you want. I am not here to listen to your lectures. Please shut up,” Dania finally said. She doesn’t talk to him anymore. For the last six months, they have barely talked to each other. He has so many complaints, so many compromises he makes for her, she can never call it love. Love can never demean, demand, or degrade. Love was supposed to be an escape for her, and here she was— stuck with him for the past three years, listening to his complaints. It has started to suffocate her. She felt his hand on her right hand, moving his fingers slowly, and at this point, her stomach started somersaulting. She prayed that it doesn’t end up like the last time in college. When he sat next to her and moved his hand towards her lower back, everything went blank in her mind, stopped functioning, and she ended up yelling at him. She never liked the touch of men on her body; it disturbed her, and she cursed her life. She had been travelling in public transport for a long time, and she had experienced men touch her inappropriately wherever they pleased. Sometimes she would fight and scream, even slap some, but she couldn’t do it almost every day. A woman who fights every day is not good, a threat to the girls around her, a bad influence.
He squeezed her hand and said sorry, and promised he would make today special, unforgettable. She forced a smile, but deep down, her heart ached, and anxiety moved in, on its way toward a panic attack. She prayed to the lord to ease it for her today. While his hand rested on hers, he moved his hand down her thigh, and on a wide scenic highway, she twitched. The speed rush fogged her mind, and all she could feel was the heaviness of his hand on her thigh, moving inwards. As close as her legs were, his hand made its place between her thighs. “Dania …” whispered in a lustful sigh, with his hand squeezing the inside of her right thigh. “Abeer. Please don’t do this. I am not comfortable. Can you stop the car? I’m feeling nauseous.” he did as he was told. They both sat in silence; no one spoke, and both held their breaths. Dania was making sense of the situation, and Abeer hung his head in guilt and anger, sullen droopy face, his hands tightly holding the steering wheel. “Ab …” was all Dania could utter, and Abeer slapped her across the face.
“Just one single thing. A single fucking thing you can’t give me, Dania. My friends get everything they ask their girls. And here I am, I can’t touch you. Who are you? A sanctified whore?” Dania experienced the worst, something she never imagined. The guy she loved slapped her, an insult that crossed all her boundaries. She fiercely looked at him, his eyes blazing with anger, breathing heavily as if he had just climbed up and down a mountain. She tried to open the door, but to her despair, it was locked. “Unlock the door, Abeer. I don’t want to be near you.”
“SHUT UP!” shouted Abeer. Started the car, drove into what seemed like a forest, something wild, no trace of people. She couldn’t breathe, her heart raced, and her head pounded. “Abeer, I’m sorry, let’s go back. Please,” she felt restless. All she could think about was her family; her mother’s face flashed in front of her with her nun chai mug saying “Khoday’as ti Nabiy’as chakh hawaal.” Abeer took something out of his pocket, a cigarette pack? She couldn’t decipher. He opened the door, and they were between a road and a forest, walking towards the latter. Dania insisted they stay near the car, but she didn’t want to fume his flames. They reached a scenic height. She saw the water flowing, its deafening sound, tall trees around her, and crickets chirping. Above her, she saw the clear blue sky, with huge white clouds aming the canopy of trees.
Abeer appeared behind her, hugged her, and wrapped his arms around her waist tightly. The grip frightened her. She could feel his breath against her neck. He kissed her earlobe. She held her breath and closed her eyes as if that was going to save her, just like a prey under the dominion of a predator. His hands moved under her shirt towards her chest, then touched her bra and slowly under it, touching her breasts. She pushed him, broke free. She saw a fallen branch near her. She was about to pick it up when Abeer pushed her to the ground. He stepped on her foot, and she screamed. Usually as an act of surrender, he would sit on both his knees in front of Dania, breathing heavily. “Please, Dania. I beg you. Let me…” was all he said.
He forced a kiss on her lips, his tongue brushing her lips and teeth, his hands around her waist, touching her breasts, forcefully sucking on them, while Dania kicked and screamed. It felt like Abeer was dead and someone else had taken over his body. Dania cried, resisted him as much as she could, but it was impossible to move under his unbearable weight. He started looking for something in his pocket, a packet in his hand. He unwrapped it hastily while Dania tried to see what it was. He took a piece out, a condom. Her body gave up. It paralysed; she couldn’t fathom the length at which he had gone since the time he had convinced her to bunk the college. Her eyes were transfixed on the blue sky while her salwar was taken off, and her body felt naked. Goosebumps sprouted on her skin, and a cold wave ran through her body searching for the shore. She realized how cold it was there because of water and altitude. In such circumstances she held her legs together, but he made his way; she felt the pressure, the pain that she was supposed to protect and honour at all costs.
The sky above her was shaking, every few seconds, and she thought that the Lord might be staring at the scene, cursing both of them, and blessing none. She held on to whatever she could, which was nothing but conifer cone debris and horse shit but she felt something softer under her hand, her ears were bustling with the sound of gushing water and Abeer’s moaning. When he came closer to her, she turned away her face in disgust, looking at a bunch of purple flowers, and a similar canopy of trees on the other side. She couldn’t focus, conflicted between pain and survival and a dire wish to die. She dangled between consciousness, praying under her breath.
As Abeer continued his fanatical experiment, she heard someone walking towards them. She was alarmed; this was the way— people record such incidents on mountains and forests. She saw a man in a black outfit, through her blurry vision. She smelt saffron, while none of them was wearing saffron. The man approached her amidst Abeer’s moaning, water spouting, the pain between her legs, he hung above her, replacing the sky with his face. She could only see his eyes, white with greater hints of red. He whispered her name and placed something in her left hand. “Run, leave and don’t come here,” said the shadow of a man.
She opened her eyes and heard her mother yelling and knocking. Dania breathed heavily, transported from hell to a piece of heaven, her room. She looked around in apprehension to find anyone. Her entire body ached and she felt her hands tightly turned into a fist, she opened her hand and saw a saffron flower, crushed in her hand full of sweat. Its colour gave off hues of blood on her palm and she felt as if she had urinated. She sat up and looked at her legs, the sheet was bloody.
The end.