How I Wish
By: Ramlah Aziz
Tags: Self Reflection, Regret, Reflections, Wishful Thinking, Mistake

She’s a new girl in my class; from another country. I don’t like her one little bit. And it doesn’t help that I’ve been told to show her around the school. Help her fit in. Take her to the right classes.

There’s no specific reason why I don’t like her. Maybe because she has a slightly different accent which irritates me. Maybe because I have to explain all our school rules to her and she takes time to understand them. Maybe because I’m proud. Maybe all three.

We have Maths today. She’s not in my Maths class and I have to help her find hers. I ask a few teachers but none of them know. I can’t be bothered to walk all the way to the office to find out. My friends are huddled together sharing the latest news and I can see they’re having a good time. While I’m stuck with the new girl, who is asking me whether the Maths here is difficult or not.

My temper is rising. I know I’m not supposed to be getting angry. She is actually really sweet and doesn’t want to be a burden on me. It’s not her fault. But it’s not mine either. There are five minutes left and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry. I suddenly make a decision.

“Fatima,” I call to another girl who I know won’t help in the least. “Find out Khadija’s class for her, will you?’’

“I’m busy.” Fatima replies without even glancing at me.

“Khadija, turn right from there, left into the building and down the slope to the office area. Ask a teacher and she’ll tell you which class you’re in.” I tell her, irritated, and rush off without even bothering to see if she has understood the way.

My conscience is screaming at me. I know with her broken English she won’t make it on time. I know she’ll muddle up and go to the wrong classes and be late. I glance back and she’s standing there with a confused expression on her face. The ground is almost empty now. I nearly melt but my temper gets the better of me. I leave her standing there all alone… in a new school… in a new country…

***

It’s my second day in academy. I’m enjoying myself thoroughly as I have met quite a few friends after a whole year. One of them, Maria, tells me that another quite close friend of mine, Ammara, is in the other class. Our teacher hasn’t arrived yet. I am overjoyed and pulling Maria’s arm tell her to take me to that class.

Ammara doesn’t notice me at first and does a high five with Maria. Then she sees me and recognizes me immediately. She extends her hand warmly and says salaam. I reply and shake her hand. But suddenly I’m green.

I remember when we were in school Ammara told me to be a bit careful of what I said around Maria as she could not be trusted then. And now Ammara had acted so glad to see her but only shook hands with me. The thought doesn’t occur to me that Maria might have changed, or the fact that I am being jealous for no reason at all. They could’ve become good friends over the year while I lost contact.

I don’t mention it to Ammara or Maria, who probably would’ve explained everything to me. I know I’m wrong; I shouldn’t be jealous, as after all I was the one who didn’t stay in contact. But I let my thoughts get carried away. The next few days I can’t help noticing those two are together. I am with other friends, and those two greet me whenever they see me. So there is nothing really wrong. But I’m still angry.

I’m giving a test a few days later. Our teacher rearranges us and I end up next to Ammaara. At first I am too caught up with my question to be aware of my surroundings. When I do realize who is next to me about ten minutes have passed.

“I should say salaam,” I think to myself.

“But ten minutes have passed. What will she think of me?” My ego protests.

“You should say it anyway. It’s not your fault you didn’t remember earlier. You can explain everything later,” my conscience is nagging me.

And so the thoughts go on. I don’t say salaam. My ego wins. And that little chance I had of continuing a two-year happy friendship without a fault is gone. She had been noticing my coldness and had been enduring it for a while. But now she sees no reason to. I’ve lost another friend due to my big-headedness.

***

The phone rings and I pick it up. The person on the other end turns out to be my friend from class 5. I’m surprised she actually remembers me. After a while of catching up on the past events she mentions her purpose.

She is from a not-very-Islamic family and is facing a problem. My dad is an Aalim and she wants me to ask him. I promise her I will do so and say goodbye.

“You should ask the problem as soon as possible,” my conscience tells me. “Who knows it might be urgent. And it’ll leave an impression on her.”

But I still manage to delay it. When I do finally phone her I don’t have an answer. My dad says he wants the whole situation in written form. I should explain it to her but I don’t know how she’ll react to that. I manage to mumble something and making an excuse, shut the phone.

I’m delaying things unnecessarily. This is going to have a bad ending. I’m ruining things. My conscience is telling me so. But I don’t listen to it. I ask my Dad again and he gives the same answer- he wants it in written form. Now I’m stuck.

She’s already phoned me a few times. All I’ve did is ask her some questions. She doesn’t want to tell much- I can see that. My dad wants the whole thing written down. And I’m made to compromise.

I do the worst thing I possibly can. I don’t phone her. She phones after two weeks while I’ve been hoping she’s forgotten. Fat Luck. I give her a long explanation. She’s not understanding a word and getting irritated. She can’t hear me properly either as the reception is bad. Then I tell her the written problem. That does it.

Stupid of me not to have said it as soon as my dad said so. I should have explained it to her on the first phone call. Three weeks have gone by, her phoning me, and I haven’t given her a satisfactory answer even once.

“Okay I’ll phone you later. I’m busy now,” she says exasperatedly and shuts the phone. Never to phone again. She has a lovely reason to label Aalims and their families. All because of me.

***

These were just some of the many. Events long gone. Events written down. Events which labelled me as everything but good. How I wish I’d thought twice before acting, before speaking, and had not let my ego get the better of me. How I wish…

Originally written for The Truth Mag : http://www.thetruthmag.com/index.php/features/stories/1422-how-i-wish