Friends, have you heard the idiom, “A lull before the storm?” The idiom perfectly fit the situation at my house on that particular day because it was unusually quiet, whereas my house usually echoed with the tantrums of a naughty infant, yells of an angry elder brother, and an even angrier father and, among all of them, the soft, soothing voice of an anxious mother trying to comfort all.

It was the day when my brother Hammad and dad had an argument about his career choice when Hammad showed him the admission form he got of a prestigious music academy.

Since childhood, Hammad had been interested in music, and wanted to pursue his career in it, but my dad was more concerned about what society would say on Hammad’s choice of career.

After the argument, there was again silence. Everyone sat on the dining table to have lunch but maintained the silence. Even my baby sister Sara had sensed the tension and quietly ate her mashed potato and chicken without a fuss.

Since I could not bear the heavy air surrounding my family, I began to crack the jokes I knew. Nobody even acknowledged my lousy attempt as my eyes darted around the table, searching the familiar faces for any traces of smile. I let out a heartfelt sigh and quietly resumed eating my lunch. After a few unbearable minutes of silence, the doorbell rang and, as the younger one in the family, I got up to see who it was.

As I padded barefoot towards the front door, I loudly asked who it was. The reply left me shell-shocked.

“Guess who!” the voice from the other side answered. It was the voice of our aunt, ‘Fatiphupps’ (Fatima phupoo) or my father’s sister.

She was a very robust woman who usually dressed in very bright colours, applied even brighter lipstick and had zero or no sense of fashion. She had shifted to the UK a few years ago to pursue her writing career and from then on our interaction had been limited to the safe distance of Skype calls and Whatsapp chats.

“Beta, are you going to open the door or have you forgotten me?”

Her words brought me back to my senses and as I opened the door, I was smothered by her hug as she yelled, “Surprised you!” in my ear and gave me bright pink kisses on my cheeks. Then she proceeded to enter our house and my family members went through the same process of being hugged and kissed as I had.

As Hammad and I lugged Fatiphupps bright orange, pink and neon suitcases through the door, I turned and spotted her sitting on the dining table eating lunch from my father’s plate, cheering as she chattered with my mother while stroking Sara’s head. My father sat like a sulky teenager, lipstick stains on his cheeks, seemed annoyed at the unexpected visitor that was his sister.

After lunch, she placed herself on my father’s beloved rocking chair and started watching television on full volume. My mother, father and Hammad excused themselves to their rooms for an afternoon nap, but I sat with her in the lounge as she flicked the channels. I have always liked her bold and cheerful attitude. I was attracted to her vivaciousness and her soft nature. Today, she was like a storm in our quiet house.

After what I believe of 30 minutes of fitful sleep, my parents and Hammad returned to lounge with tousled hair. We sat together with Fatiphupps talking about various things, but none of us taking it in.

She asked us a question which we jerked us all, “So what is Hammad taking up as his career?”

This spark was enough to ignite the diminished fire between my father and Hammad.

“I want to be a musician!” said Hammad.

“He will be a doctor,” said dad, and they both answered at the same time.

Dad stared at Hammad quite angrily while Fatiphupps sensed the tension and stared at them both with her heavily outlined eyes. Then she quietly led my dad in to the guest room, closed the door and had a word with him, which she obviously didn’t want us kids to know. She always had been like a mother to my father. My grandmother had passed away while my dad was still a child, so Fatiphupps brought my dad up like a mother.

Another reason for her being an important part of my family was that she had a whole bag of tricks whenever she had to convince anyone. If there was a problem in my family, she was always summoned up, for she solved it with ease.

While we waited in the lounge, Hammad pacing back and forth, I realised how sensitive and caring she was for she had understood both of them at once.

After about an hour, my father and Fatiphupps emerged from the room. He looking bashful, while she looked as if a cat had caught a big fat mouse. We still did not know my father’s opinion of Hammad’s career as he locked himself away in his room, while Fatiphupps resumed her stories in the silent house. Neither my mother nor Hammad spoke a single word in anticipation of my dad’s anger.

We did not hear a sound out of father as he sat alone in his room but at least, he opened the door and very quietly handed Hammad the signed form for the music academy which he had showed him earlier that day.

Hammad couldn’t control his tears and ran towards my retreating father to hug him hard. Fatiphupps stood there speechlessly, wiping the tears that had trailed down her face. Sometimes what people need the most is unexpected things to happen in life. Fatiphupps had come as an unexpected visitor, but she solved the problem as if there wasn’t any.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 6th, 2018