On the brother-sister bond – and how to be open about love
“I can’t do it.”
I’m standing at the edge of the pool, staring at the electric blue water that stretches below like a block of coloured concrete.
“Yes, you can,” says Zakir, like he always does. My brother is nothing if not optimistic. “You swim perfectly well now, Aloo.”
Easy for him to say. Zak has won the Swimming Federation Championship three years in a row. He’s a rare nerd who’s also a jock, which makes him a huge heartthrob at school, though he’s way more interested in books and sports than girls. Did I mention he’s our star batsman, and he scored a perfect 2400 in his SATs? Yup, that’s Zakir for you. I should hate him, right?
“But what if I die?” I squeak, my eyes fixated on the bottomless blue below. “That will be seriously tragic as I won’t get to show my new bangs to Ria. Or go on our trip to Disney World!” My voice quavers.
“Drama Queen!” laughs Zak. “Come on, Aliya. Take a deep breath and jump!”
“Yes, you can,” says Zakir, like he always does. My brother is nothing if not optimistic. Did I mention he scored a perfect 2400 in his SATs? I should hate him, right?”. Illustration: Ita Mehrotra
“What if I bash my face and get so bruised that nobody asks me to the Summer Social?” Truth be told, I wasn’t thinking of ‘nobody.’ I was thinking of Joy. I’d seen Joy at school for years, but it was only this spring that I crashed headlong into this huge crush on him, when he joined our club for Pool Hour. I watched him dive one evening, flying through the twilight sky like a very special bird (fluttering his biceps rather than wings). And I signed up for extra swimming lessons, hoping I’d impress him one day. Joy isn’t a star student but he’s a mean-ass bowler on the pitch, has the deepest dimples, and brings extra chapatis for the street dogs every day.
“I will bash your face myself unless you stop being such an annoying little princess,” Zak rolls his eyes. “Disney World this, Summer Dance that!”
Just so you know, Zak is the gentlest soul on earth. The image of him bashing anyone is so absurd that I have to smile. Then I shoot a quick glance around the poolside, making sure that Joy isn’t there to witness my moment of un-glory with his unsettlingly beautiful eyes. Joy’s lashes are almost as long as the distance between me and the water.
“Aloo!” yells Zakir. “I know you can do it. Just say yes!”
And I do.
And Zak is right, as always – I don’t drown to death or split my skull open. I silently thank God for making sure that Joy didn’t see my ungainly splash, nor my prolonged terror before it. Also for having a super-bro like Zak. Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll manage when he starts in Princeton this fall.
“I still can’t believe you’re going to college right after Disney World,” I tell Zak as we walk back home. I stop to take a selfie of us, and WhatsApp it to Ria.
“And I still can’t believe we’re going to Disney World,” laughs Zakir. “How did you ever get Dad to agree? You’d expect a High Court Judge to be more sensible, wouldn’t you?”
Frankly, I’d been surprised by that too. Don’t get me wrong – our Dad isn’t a toughie like some Dads are. In fact, he’s known for being one of the more lenient judges in Hyderabad. But unlike Ammi, Dad isn’t into amusement parks. He doesn’t amuse easy, our Dad.
So, this is how I scored Disney World: I caught Dad at a weak moment. When I told him I failed Biology, he slammed his teacup down so hard – the delicate china one I’d got him for Eid – that it shattered into bits. I burst into tears. And Dad started looking rather guilty.
“How will you become a doctor if you fail bio, Aliya?” Dad had sighed in that half conciliatory, half I’m-still-upset voice of his.
“But I want to be an actor!” I’d bawled. Dad looked like he wanted to break the teapot too (and possibly the milk jug), but caught himself just in time.
“Listen, no daughter of mine will ever be an actress.” A vein on Dad’s temple had started to throb. “Being a doctor is a very proper thing for a young lady from this family. Just like your mother. You’ll take biology lessons all summer long…’
“But you know we want to go to Disney World this summer… And Khala keeps asking us all to visit Miami, which is so close!” I’d wailed.
“That’s true, Azhar,” Ammi had chimed in from her desk in the study. God bless Ammi.
As I race Zakir up the stairs, I wonder what Joy is doing right this minute. I really hope he asks me to the Summer Social, but I haven’t admitted this to Zak yet. My brother and I talk about practically everything, but I’ve noticed that he isn’t interested in the topic of Joy at all. The night I saw Joy fly, I’d asked Zak what Joy was like in school. “He’s all right,” Zak had mumbled, noisily switching on his 27” iMac. Joy and Zak are in the same class, and both on the cricket team, so I’m not sure why they aren’t friends. Perhaps it’s the competitive streak in Zakir? Unlike me, he has never failed any subject. In fact, the only thing he miserably fails at is to not top his class every year. Zak has to be best at everything and Joy is, after all, the other star on the cricket team – the trickiest spin bowler in high-school cricket, famous for his wrist speed. I’m sure Joy is stiff competition in terms of the attention he gets. So… when Zakir saw me chatting with Joy outside the library last week, he asked me rather curtly what that was all about.
PING! WhatsApp from Ria: “Ur hair looks funny esp that wet mess stickin 2 ur forehead. Did J ask u 2 the dance?”
“He wasn’t at the pool 2dy,” I text back, gutted that she doesn’t like my new haircut.
“Okk gotta go good luck w SAT prep” Ria vanishes from my phone.