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Jai Ho!; Malik Flashbacks
Topic Started: Sep 13 2010, 06:27 PM (145 Views)
Ammy
Unregistered

[align=center]Posted Image
Malik Bousa'id -- Memories

01. Brave New World[/align]
Malik did not like it here.

No one spoke Arabic. Or even Hindi. Just English, and the other kids poked fun at him when he tried to speak that. It made him want to cry, but his father had told him that men never cried. Instead he sat alone, his lunch spread out before him and no one to share it with. Back home, he would have given his lunch to all his friends. Yesterday he had given someone a dosa to share and they'd spat it out and called it gross. Malik wrinkled his nose, his mother's food was anything but disgusting. He drew his lunch closer to him, and nibbled at a samosa. His mother's cooking-- one sure-fire way to brighten his day. It was still warm, like it had come fresh out of the oven. Malik liked to think that it was his mother's love for him that kept it warm, but apparently it sounded stupid. Someone had told him so, then called him a "Mama's Boy," whatever that meant. Wasn't every kid a mama's boy?

This place was so strange. He hated it, even if he had been told never to hate anyone or anything. Malik tucked his legs onto the chair, and took another bite of his samosa.

He sighed, and looked around the picnic area forlornly. So many children, and they spoke so quickly he could hardly understand. Malik was trying to learn there names, slowly, and then maybe they would know his, too. There were two twins, redheads with smooth skin and funny teeth. Miranda and Zoe, he believed they were called. Then a kid who always wore a backwards baseball cap called Calvin. Malik saw a girl with short black hair and wide eyes stumbling around. He couldn't remember her name. Daisy... Dixie... Desdemona. It began with a 'd.' Malik watched her wandering around for a few seconds before returning to his lunch.

"Ouch!" he heard. His eyes snapped up to see the girl on her knees. No one moved to help her, some turned before returning to chatting with their friends, like they were used to her falling.

She lay there a moment, long enough for Malik to grow concerned. Not forgetting his lunch, he hurried over and knelt beside her. "Are y-you okay?" he asked, the English tasted funny in his mouth.

The girl stood and brushed herself off, then grinned cheerily at Malik. "I'm fine!" she said. "Guess my legs are a bit shaky because I haven't eaten."

Malik blinked, staring at her in confusion. She seemed almost happy about not having any food. At least, that's what the grin on her face told him. "Wwwhy not?"

She shrugged. "I forgot it~"

"Oh..." he shifted awkwardly in place, his hands tightening around the the brown paper bag he held. Malik stood and met eyes with the girl, only to flinch and look away when she returned his gaze, smiling. After a moment's pause, he said, "Do you want a samosa?"

Before she had a chance to refuse he dug one out from his bag, small hand holding it out before him. The girl stared at it, gasping softly. Like Malik had just showed her the Holy Grail. "What is it...?"

"A samosa. Try one!" he said, smiling a little.

She snapped it up and gobbled it down, smacking her lips loudly when it was gone. "That was good!~" she declared. Her stomach gave a loud rumble and she blushed, giggling softly.

"You want another?"

The girl nodded, and took another samosa. Between bites, she said, "Hey, you're pretty swell! What's your name?"

"Malik Bousa'id..." Malik said, smiling more genuinely.

"Oh, I'm Darla!" Finally, her name. He had been right about the d-sound, at least. She finished off a second samosa. "How do these things stay so warm?"

Malik blushed. "My mother says it's her love that keeps them warm."

Darla gaped, and for a moment Malik thought he'd have to suffer though another Mama's Boy comment. But her gaping mouth gave way to a grin. "That's so cool! I wish my mom had special powers like that. Her sandwiches are always cold." She reached over and grasped Malik's hand. "Come on! We can sit over here, tomorrow I'll bring you some chocolate to pay you back..." Malik nodded, but said nothing. The girl didn't have to bring anything to thank him, she'd done enough just by becoming his first friend.
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Ammy
Unregistered

[align=center]02. To See Her Smile[/align]

No tears stained her cheeks. No frown curved her lips. It was as if he hadn't died.

Malik stood in the door to her room, staring in. His hands ran up the smooth wood of the door frame. She sat on the bed, still glad in her funeral robes. The black brought out the wrinkles on her face, and for the first time Malik saw how old she was. How tired. In her lap, she clutched a pillow. One his father had slept on.

"Mother..." he muttered, afraid to disturb her. Afraid the sound of his voice would shatter her peace and make her sob. "Everyone's asleep, even Hiba."

She blinked slowly, raised her eyes to meet his. They were blank, did she not even care? Malik had not seen his mother shed a tear since his father's passing. Not so much as a frown at the funeral today. "Thank you..." her voice flat, lifeless. Like she wasn't even his mother anymore. Only a shell.

Malik nodded and offered his mother a faint smile. It wavered when she did not return it. "We'll... we'll be okay, Ammi" he said softly. "I know we will."

"Will we?" she responded. Malik started, he hadn't expected such an answer.

He traced symbols in the door frame and looked away from his mother's sad, grey eyes. Malik bit his lip. Why was she saying these things? "Y-yeah, w-we wil..." as he said this he swallowed, choking back a lump in his throat.

"We can... we can only hope you are right. But I am so tired, Malik, so tired.

"Then sleep, I do it all the time."

His mother's lips pulled back into a sad smile, one that made his heart ache. It vanished as quickly as it had come. "I will, my son, I will."

And in the months that followed, Malik never saw her smile.

Not even once.
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