Not Your Guardian

Struggling with your heart and hushing your voice every time just to prove yourself a mature soul is nothing but a cowardly act by someone who doesn’t have the strength to take a stand and deal with the situation.

Your struggle with your inner self will always make you lose from the outside, as you are not good at making things work on your own.

Sometimes what we feel determines the real ‘us’ in it. This is a pure game of the subconscious mind. The mind often takes you to events where you have nothing to do. You start creating conceptions that may or may not occur but have a great impact on your desires.

Perceive the miracle-working power of your subconscious. Simply state before going to sleep that you wish to have a certain specific thing accomplished.

Eventually, you will start discovering that force within you. This subconscious force releases and leads you to the desired results.

A mind is a place where thoughts, beliefs, opinions, and your own theories are managed. Your subconscious creates its own rules and introduces them from your perspective. Because of this, as an introverted individual, I simply can’t get my head around it. Why can’t we just voice out our subconscious minds?

The fact is, our thoughts engrave and introduce our subconscious mind, which ultimately makes us experience them as an accurate phenomenon of circumstances and events.

The noise of shattering glass drew everyone’s attention to the table. Shit! Once again, I had zoned out.

“Ziya! Are you okay?” Haley, one of my colleagues and my best friend, asked. With a red face, I adjusted my hijab and gave her my whitening smile that said, “Absolutely.” By the look on her face, anyone could predict she wasn’t buying it, but to my relief, she didn’t press further.

To be honest, I am missing my dad. He always worked wholeheartedly for that Durrani Enterprise, but somehow I don’t like the people he works for. They are the great Durranis in Canada!

When I was thirteen, I went there for four years, and it was just like a nightmare for me. That one beast-man who made my life hell.

But now, I am happy to be back in India and live an independent life. I wish Dad would have also left that job and come back to India.

With the rumbling sound of my stomach, I sat at my cubicle desk where I and my thoughts worked together. Yes, I skipped my breakfast, and that’s why I feel so hungry.

As I work as a designer for this so-called “Glory of Fashionista” company, my ideas are my buddies. You can trust everyone to share your food, but not your plans.

I love to wear modern but modest clothes with a headscarf—Hijab! Yes, you can say I am more towards my religion and trying to learn more new things!

Other than a boring computer, my desk contains a few interesting things, like a bamboo plant and my cute cactus. I’d love to have a small teddy and a few roses, but puff! The boring authorities won’t allow it.

By the way, I love my work very much, and I am passionate about what I am doing, but if someone threatens you now and then, you are bound to lose your temper, right?

Alhamdulillah (Thanks to Allah), it’s 1:30 pm. That means time for lunch and. Yippee! Haley, Zain, Ronit, Riya, and I are best buddies as well as colleagues. We usually sat together in the cafeteria to have lunch together. I sneaked quickly to perform my Duhar namaz.

After completing my prayer, I joined my friends in the cafeteria. Haley is around 5′4 with wavy waist-length hair and snow-white skin, which made her look hot as well as cute. Riya looks like a supermodel, with 5′6 height and straight brown hair paired with a dusky complexion.

Zain is a super cool man. With a height of around 5′8 and a well-built, muscular body, he always teases Haley for her short height. But I sense something else in his voice. Huh! You never know. Ronit is the comic relief in our gang. He’s 5′7 with curly hair and a darker complexion, and his melodrama adds humor to the entire squad.

“Are you done with your thoughts? Oh, let me correct myself. Have you completed your self-talk?” Zain asked in a mocking tone while beaming ear to ear. Everyone at the table started laughing at my surprised reaction.

“Yes, Mr. Vadapav (name of Indian fast food). I am done with my thoughts and your lame jokes. Yaar, that’s not fair. You all know I don’t like talking much. So, how can I be involved in your fictional tales?” I blankly stated.

Suddenly, my phone rang, and I smiled while glimpsing the name on my screen. “Who’s that?” Ronit asked in a weird tone.

Without answering him, I received the call. “Hello, Dad, Assalamualaikum. How are you? How was the trip? Are you back in India?” Without leaving a single breath, I started shooting questions.

“Stupid, relax, yaar. You are way too loud.” Riya tapped me on my thigh, but still, my focus was on the call, where instead of my dad, there was a lady.

“Hello, ma’am. I am Ruhi from Trithi Hospital. I’m here to inform you about your dad’s health condition. Can you please visit the hospital?”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was completely traumatized.

“Ziya, what happened? Is everything alright? Ziya! Say something!” My friends started shaking me, but I instantly left the place and ran out towards the parking lot.

I started the engine of my white WagonR and rushed to the hospital.

When I reached the parking area of Trithi Hospital, I parked my vehicle on the -1 floor, which was packed with cars. I wonder how many people are suffering in this world.

But without further thought, I took the lift to the ground floor. Then I turned left towards the main entrance gate, which was enormous with luxurious glass doors.

The news of my father’s illness had left me so shaken that I completely forgot this hospital is one of the most expensive in the state. But well, the company he works for can afford it, so no worries.

I reached the reception area and asked the receptionist, breathing heavily, “I just received a call about my dad’s serious condition. His name is Mr. Jafar Sikandar.”

The receptionist’s eyes sparkled oddly, but without even checking the records, she asked me with a confused face, “Does he work for Durrani Enterprise?”

I nodded, still puzzled why she asked that. Dusting the thought aside, I immediately ran toward the lift and pressed the 7th-floor button as she directed.

When I reached the floor, six security guards stood in the lobby. Before I could figure out the reason for this high-security ambiance, a deep, commanding voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Looking for someone? I think I can help you.” The voice came from behind me, sending a chill down my spine.

Why is he here? The Durranis hate India. Then why is he here in this hospital? His dominating presence was the only reason why I never wanted to meet the Durranis again.

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Hey guys! Thank you for reading. This is the first time I am writing a story book. Enjoy reading and feel free to pin your suggestions in the comment section.