Helping hands

Those hands, visibly veined with a tree like pattern, trembled while the watery eyes, bushed up in between the dense, dark eyelashes and surrounded by crinkled stretch of skin, watched the thread struggle to get inside the eye of the needle. Fatima cursed her glasses. The scene blurred further before her eyes. "Oh, old age.", she muttered. Was it really the age causing troubles? Did the glasses cause the fogginess? Was it really the strain that caused the tears drain out of her eyes? Only Fatima could tell.

Long grey hair, fair wrinkled skin, crooked back, weak legs- Fatima was a perfect combination of beauty and caducity. With her legs crossed, she sat in a wooden sofa, fighting the needle and the thread, her useless glasses, her age and, apparently, the tears.

"Fatima Bi, he is here.", a young lady came in to inform her. "Already? I got so busy making this that I completely lost the track of time. What time is it, Aasiya?", she asked as she used her teeth to cut the thread off a piece of cloth she was working on and held it up for display. "This is beautiful, Bi. It is quarter to one. Shall I ask him to wait?", Aasiya asked. She was looking at the piece of cloth Fatima had been decorating. It was a blue handkerchief with a beautiful rose drawn on it, with the thread. The rose had big petals and a dark green stem and leaves. "Yes, please do that.", she said and got up. She continued as Aasiya started to leave "And offer him something to drink. I will be there soon."

Fatima folded the handkerchief and poured some scent on it. She took it close to her nose to make sure that it smelled good. "Perfect.", she said and smiled to herself.

Fatima closed the almirah and was about to leave the room when the bell rang. "Oh, it is one already. I must rush.", she bolted the door and walked towards her cabin. On her way, she saw another young girl holding an old lady by her hand. "All well?", Fatima replied to the smile with a smile and asked. "Yes, Bibi. Just found her wandering in the garden.", the girl replied pointing towards the old lady. Fatima kept her hand on the shoulder of the woman and said, "Savi, it is lunch time. The bell rang. You should be in the dining hall now. Asma will take you.", she said and asked the girl to take her.

Fatima entered the cabin. Her cabin was a small room with a square table in the right corner and an almirah in the left corner. The table was surrounded by three chairs- Fatima's chair facing the door and other two on the other side of the table.

Fatima could see the back of the person sitting on one of the chairs. She went in to face a boy, who seemed to be in his teens, and her face flushed with joy. "Did they offer you anything? I hope they did else they are in a big trouble.", she said. The boy got up to greet the lady. "Salaam, Badi pufo. How are you?", he asked. "Old and ugly.", she replied and they both laughed.

"Lunch time. What would you like to eat? We don't cook varieties but we cook good.", Fatima asked. Arsalan put hand in his bag and took out a packet. "I have eaten. I got your favorite chana puri.", he handed over the packet to Fatima. "Ah, well. It has been a while. You must taste some too.", she opened the pack.

After they were done eating, they went to the garden. "This place is very nice and peaceful. I will show you around later but let me talk to you well first.", Fatima said to Arsalan. Arsalan held her hand and helped her sit on the bench. "You look weak, Badi Pufo. Weaker than the last time.", he said as he sat down on the grass near her. "Age, son. I am old. But I must tell that I am strong here.", she pointed towards her heart and laughed.

Time passed and they talked about things. "It has been a year, Badi Pufo. Don't you miss home?", Arsalan asked. "They say home is where heart is.", she replied. She looked around and then turned back to ask, " Do your parents know that you came to visit me? Do they ever talk about wanting to see me?"

The bond between Fatima and Arsalan was old and strong. Fatima had been there since his birth. Fatima was Arsalan's grandaunt. They all lived in the same house- Arsalan, Arsalan's father, Arsalan's mother and Fatima- untill Arsalan's mother Zohra started to have problems with taking care of an old person. "Who takes care of an aunt? She doesn't have her own kids to take care of her, why should I suffer? I have got my own life, Wahid. I can't do it. You have to get a maid to look after her or send her to your cousin's.", Zohra would tell her husband. The fights and arguments forced Fatima to leave the house for good. Wahid never tried to stop her or even reach her.

Arsalan, however, loved and missed his Badi Pufo a lot. Being a kid, he didn't have much say in this matter.

"Too early, Badi Pufo. They will miss you but now is not the time.", Arsalan replied. "Sometimes I think that would the thing have been different if it was your grandmother? Your mother was right. Who takes care of an aunt?", Fatima sighed and continued, "Nevermind. How is school?"

Arsalan told Fatima about his friends and teachers. He also told her about his grades and that he was a favorite of everyone in the school.

"Badi Pufo, I will take you home one day, when I am big enough to take care of you.", Arsalan told Fatima. "Oh, my sweet child. Your Badi Pufo won't live that long. I am happy here. I am helping people. God bless your grandfather. I am so thankful that he left this little money for his sister and I could start this project. It brings me pride and peace.", she said.

Then Fatima took Arsalan around the house. "This is our kitchen. And that is Haleema, our cook.", she said as they entered the kitchen. "Haleema, you know my grandson, don't you?", she asked the cook. Haleema smiled and replied, "Yes.", turned towards Arsalan and said, "Fatima Bi talks about you a lot. I am glad that I got a chance to meet you."

Fatima took Arsalan in a room where all the housemates were present. "Ladies, this is my grandson Arsalan." Arsalan greeted them all. Fatima held his hand and took him to the broad who was standing at the window. "Savi?", she called. It was the same woman Fatima had seen with Asma at lunch time. "My grandson.", she pointed towards Arsalan. Savi smiled, ran her hand over Arsalan's head and kissed the boy on his forehead. "That was Savi, Arsalan. The first lady I met after I left home. She was alone too. She is a very good friend but we could never be real friends. She forgets things. Some disease of brain.", Fatima told Arsalan as they left the room.

It was time for Arsalan to leave. Fatima walked him to the gate. "Arsalan, this year has been tough. I do not feel very well now. Do not wait too long to come back. Come again soon.", she said.

They reached the gate and Fatima hugged him. "You know? You are a big boy now.", she said. Fatima realised that Arsalan was growing up and she believed that he would grow up into a decent and caring man. "Son, visit them after I am dead. They need a helping hand here.", she said.

Arsalan was upset. He had something to say. He wished Fatima would look up in his eyes and know the problem. "Badi Pufo, I am going away. They are sending me abroad for higher studies. This  might be the last time you are seeing me.", he wanted to tell Fatima but couldn't.

Fatima on the other hand wished his son would come to see her every day. She knew that she didn't have much life left. But deep in her heart she had a feeling that those strong hands would not be there to hold her weak ones anymore. Little did she know that her fear was going to come true. She gathered courage to look up and when she saw Arsalan's eyes she sighed. She had seen something. She couldn't look for long. The fogginess was back. "I wish, son, to see you again.", she said and pushed him away as if asking him to leave. And as he started walking away, she whispered, "And not all wishes come true. Not all wishes come true.

Fatima sat on the nearest bench as the old wet eyes watched Arsalan disappear. In her worst state of health, Fatima only lived to see her grandson again.