Bridging Hearts.

I could feel the soft prickles of grass beneath my feet, sitting in the lawn under the chilly breeze which was carrying all the cozy, nostalgic smells of nighttime.

I was having a light hearted chit chat with Mamma, when baba asked me.

“Zara, when are your exams!!?”

“Next week!!” I replied, with the sudden concern flashing across my face like, you could tell how important it was to me just by looking at me.

“You are preparing well right!!?” He asked.

“Of course, she must have! There’s no way she’s going to take a chance on that!” Mamma said.

I smiled at their confidence in me, but deep down, a familiar anxiety settled in my chest.

Baba, ever the reassuring one, gave me another smile.“Don’t worry, your hard work will pay off !! You have our prayers and support always. ...and now”

He paused and his eyes flickered towards Azlaan, who had been sitting quietly this whole time.

“That support even has an addition.!!”

I followed Baba’s gaze to Azlaan, who nodded slightly.

“Yes, little sister, don’t worry,” Bhai chimed in with mockery. “You’ll do it. Besides, I don’t think you even need any more preparation.

You know, you’re too good—or should I say, only good—at it!!”

“Thank you, Bhai. I would suggest you never give motivation to anyone ever again.” I pressed a smile.

“Show me you’re good at anything other than memorizing those medical books.”

“You could also show that you’re good at anything other than your terrible jokes.”

Azlaan replied instead of me, and his words hung in the air for a moment, and all our attention snapped to him which he most probably didn't like, given how he avoid even a little bit of spotlight. 

“Azlaan— you!!” Bhai began but I cut off , when a sudden idea struck and without thinking, I said out or almost challenged Bhai, “A match of badminton can show you!!”

He looked at me like I’d just asked him something unbelievable though I know why his reaction was like this But I was serious. I wanted to play—or rather, I wanted him to play and lose. That was the plan.

“Heh, so you want to lose?” he asked in amusement as he sat up, propping himself on one elbow like he was humoring a child.

“You’ll be the loser!” I shot back, trying to do one of those dramatic hair flips I do sometimes, only to have my hair get embarrassingly stuck in the hoodie I was wearing.

Bhai didn’t miss a beat. “Do you need any more proof who the actual loser is here?” he snickered, nodding pointedly at my failed attempt to look cool.