Posted: May 31, 2014 in Uncategorized


transformation definition

 When all you have is a hammer , everything looks like a nail. – Bernard Berrach

“Dishad!”, I screamed through my open office door. A few second later Dilshad stood at the entrance of my office. As she stood in profile the small bump of her growing tummy was noticeable under her abhaya. “Where are the documents from Zaheera?” I blurted accusingly. “I asked you to follow up yesterday” I scolded.

“I called her yesterday and she told me that she was going to bring it before we closed up yesterday”.

“So….” I asked accusingly.

“I don’t know what happened. I tried calling her today but her cell is off”.

“jeez”, I snapped “Why didn’t you just pick it up from her, yesterday? You knew it was urgent”.

“Sorry Farnaz,” she apologized. “I offered to pick it up yesterday but she was preparing for her trip and running errands and she had the documents with her”.

“I can’t deal with this!” I screamed. “Try calling her again. I don’t want excuses, I want action. I don’t care what you do, just fix this. I need those documents NOW! I am meeting with Mr. Ebrahim in a few hours”

She nodded and left.

A few minutes after she had left my office, I realized I had been too hard on her. It wasn’t her fault of course. I had been in a bad mood for a couple of days now. It was what happened after the party on Sunday that has my emotions all working overtime.

When we got back from the party, I was so hopeful. I was determined to speak to Hussain and try to resolve this huge boulder in our lives. When I saw him cry, it made my heart ache. I had never seen him show any emotion. Anger is usually his response for everything. He directs his anger at everything and everyone when he is unable to deal with a real emotion. THAT, I am used to. That night when I stood outside the window and saw him cry, I was blindsided. He was bent over his plane and there was no mistaking his tears. I watched as his tears fell soundlessly as he tried ignoring the pain that was flowing out of his eyes. His fingers still worked deftly on the plane as if his body was unaware of his leaking emotion. Then my heartache turned into heart break. Why won’t he speak to me? Why won’t he share his pain with me? Why does he push me away?

I hated that I felt out of place standing there watching him. I hated that I had to resist my urge to go in and comfort him. I hated that I had to walk away and forget what I saw. I hated that I began wondering if not talking about his feelings was a way to shut me out forever.

The anger and frustration of that night kept building up inside me. I began feeling helpless. How long can we continue just politely commenting on events, making small talk and talking about the weather. Sitting together with him at the Vally’s party felt so right. It made me feel like there was hope. He bonded so well with the baby. I can’t remember when I last saw him smile like that. But he didn’t SAY ANYTHING. It is like he just doesn’t care enough to. I read somewhere that the opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference. He just doesn’t care anymore. The though made my cheeks burn red. Does he not care? Is it really all over? Aaaargh! How did I get into this mess?

I looked up to see Dilshad at my door. She stood there timidly. “Zaheera is here” she said apprehensively trying to gauge my mood. “Does she have the documents?” I asked keeping my tone at conversational level and feigning nonchalance. “Yes” she responded, “but she wants to see you”.

I rolled my eyes at the thought of having to endure her tedious conversation. Not now, I thought. “ok send her in” I said regretfully.

Zaheera strolled in, nose in the air and an extra spring in her step.“Farnaz, doll!” she said pacing her words with her strides. “So sorry about yesterday, it’s all my fault. The documents were ready, but I had to run and do my forex and then the bank needed my visa so I had to go back to the travel agent, then back to the bank. By the time I was done at the bank, I was carrying around thousands of Euros…” she paused to emphasize this , then she flashed me a smile, “So I just decided to go home first, by then it was too late”. She put the manila envelope on my desk. “I am leaving tomorrow for London”, she continued without me asking. I nodded. “Have a good trip” I said walking around my desk to indicate I was going to walk her out. Thankfully she took the hint and stood up. However much to my disappointment she did not stop talking, “I’m sure it will be. We flying turkish airlines so we just had to stop for a short stay in Turkey”…..blah blah blah and something about a balloon safari and a cruise. That woman can brag. Does she really think I care about her holiday? “Thanks for dropping the documents off”, I cut her off sharply. “Just give Dilshad a shout when you are back”, I finished and  ushered her out of my office. “Assa almu Alaikum” I said as I turned and returned to my office. I could hear Zaheera still talking about her plans. Dilshad’s oohing and aahing filtered through to my office. I tore open the envelope and pulled out the documents. I tried to filter out the cheerful voices outside as I carefully began to go through each clause of the lease document.





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