Becoming Alive Again

I had lots of female friends in Pakistan. Because I was a Muslim girl, I only hanged around with girls. Being around with boys was out of question unless they were my cousins, my classmates, my teachers, or friends of my family—this changed when I grew older because now I had to meet my colleagues as well as men I felt interested in. So when I was younger, mostly my female friends offered me all sorts of enjoyment.

They always held my hand when I was sad; spoiled me with movies, snacks, and sleepovers; studied together and danced at weddings together; and, broke some critical rules to make me laugh. We used to have so much fun together but that was our daily routine. Gradually, something inside just died due to the fact that I got so used to everything. I needed to try new things out. But, I didn’t fully realize that this is what I needed until I arrived in Canada. I was just a teenager back then; obviously, I was pretty confused.

In Canada, I was lucky enough to meet a Buddhist Chinese-Canadian girl, L.C. She felt so awesome because she used to add a new idea inside my young mind every now and then.Yes! She was the one who got me into reading newspaper and articles related to global affairs. I felt that I became alive when she came in my life although she was just like the rest of the girls. She was a bit different than the rest because she was telepathic; that is why she could create a “lock and key” mechanism inside my mind. Whenever she talked, it felt like a mirror. Sometimes, she would say things that I needed to hear; and sometimes, I would say things that she needed to hear. We were like that despite the fact that we belonged to different cultures and religions.

Around 10 years have passed since she left me due to her domestic abuse issues—I have always known that the second L.C. would be abused, I will be abused somehow as well. But, I still miss her like hell! Ever since she has left me, I have waited for her and thought about her every year. I have scanned the web; and, I have failed. I did find out the name of the city she went to; but, I was unable to find out her address in time because we had to move away as well. I have some great friends but they cannot replace her. Her memories are so fresh in my mind that I woke up today thinking about her and ended up making seven audio recordings about how we used to be. I intend to publish this in my short story/novel “She: The Mirror”. I recorded myself crying over her because her memories are so fresh that these sting like fresh wounds. You know after ten years passed, I realized that I have lost a real sister.

lc

Copyright © by Arzoo Zaheer. All Rights Reserved.

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