In Time, I Will

CHAPTER 4

Charun stepped forward, a polite smile on his face. “Oh, I’m a student.”

I reached for the front passenger door, but Charun’s voice stopped me. “Ma’am, I have a few doubts. Is it okay if you sit in the back with me?”

I turned, momentarily caught off guard by the request, then glanced at Adil. His expression was calm, patient even, as he waited for my response.

“Sure,” I said, sliding into the back seat beside Charun. As Adil started driving, I leaned forward slightly. “Did you meet with Ammi?” I asked, curious as to why he’d shown up unannounced.

“Yes,” Adil replied, eyes fixed on the road. “My parents are at your house. We’ll be staying here for a couple of days.”

“Why?” I inquired, trying to mask the flutter of nerves the news brought.

He caught Charun's eyes in the rear-view mirror, a hint of worry flitting through his expression. He hesitated before speaking up. “Aunt Koshè’s eldest son has passed away,” I said quietly. “Their home is closer to yours than ours, so we’ll be staying for the days of the funeral.”

  Inna li-llahi wa Inna ilayhi Raaji'un, I recited silently, letting the weight of the news settle. “How did he die?” I asked, breaking the solemn silence.

“It was an accident,” Adil said, his voice low.

“And Aunt Koshè? Is she a common relative?”

“Yes,” he replied, shifting slightly in his seat. “She’s somehow related to our grandmothers. I’m not sure exactly how.”

“I see,” I said, nodding. The car moved on in silence, the hum of the engine filling the space between us until Adil spoke again.

“We’ll leave for the funeral as soon as we reach your place. Everyone’s waiting for you.” His gaze flicked briefly to the rear-view mirror. “Where should I drop you off, mate?” he asked Charun.

“Oh, he’ll come with us to my house,” I interjected before Charun could answer. Adil’s eyes met mine in the mirror, questioning but patient. “He teaches Arman,” I added. “So, he’ll stay there and take care of him while we’re gone.” I turned to Charun. “You’re okay with that, right?”

Charun nodded, his face calm but thoughtful. The rest of the ride was filled with me explaining and clearing up his academic doubts.

When we reached home, I greeted Uncle and Aunt, their faces lined with exhaustion. I went to my room and gathered a few books and study materials for Charun to pass the time while we attended the funeral.

I changed into my funeral clothes, the black fabric heavy on my shoulders, and came back to find that our parents had already left. It was just me and Adil now, left behind by their silent insistence. Their silly tricks are really frustrating, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

Adil and I took my car. Contrary to our parents’ expectations, the drive was silent. He only asked, “What’s Charan’s name and age?” before lapsing back into his own thoughts.

At the funeral, the air was thick with whispers and muffled sobs. I put on a solemn expression, the polite mask required for a death that, in truth, felt distant. Once the formalities became monotonous, I found myself searching for a moment of solitude. I slipped away from the crowded room and found a back door that led to a secluded pond.

The setting sun cast its dim crimson light through the gaps in the bamboo thicket, painting the scene with a dark, muted glow. It felt more like twilight here than it truly was. The quiet, the rustling of leaves, and the gentle lapping of water brought a rare peace.