Hunza Valley. Multan. Gilgit. Lahore. A thousand names swished in the air around me.

Plans, decisions and excitement were just a few of the things I could coherently grab from the cacophony of voices. What was riveting and enthralling to my peers, sounded monotonous and repetitive to my ears.

One raved about the crisp weather that would be in Fairy Meadows while the other rhapsodised over the food they’ll eat in Peshawar. I was hearing a lot, but listening to nothing.

I snapped back into reality when Yusra waved her hands in front of my eyes.

“Hiba?”

“Yeah?” I blinked a few times and eased into a better posture. “What’s up?”

“What’s up is that I have been talking to you and you’re just ignoring me. Were you even listening to anything I said?”

“Totally,” I inhaled deeply. “You were saying how you wanted to go to Nathiagali but your family decided they won’t because the landslides were pretty bad last year and they don’t want to take any risks, so you threw a tantrum and said that a tour to Pakistan’s northern areas is incomplete without going there. Your family tried to convince you that all the places they’ll go to will be just as beautiful but when your mum promised to buy you anything you wanted from Mall Road, you finally gave in.”

“I didn’t throw a tantrum,” Yusra mumbled.

“Sounds like a tantrum to me. I mean, come on, you’re going on a tour. What’s better than that?”

“Where are you going?” Sonia inquired.

“From my bedroom to my living room,” I gave a dry laugh. “It’ll be quite the adventure.”

“Just because you’re not going out of Karachi doesn’t mean you’re going nowhere,” said Sonia.

“Yeah, Karachi is huge,” Yusra added with a nod. “You haven’t been anywhere other than your hometown anyway. This year is your chance to experience everything.”

“Who in their right mind will be willing to go on a Karachi tour in the heat of June?” I grunted bitterly. “Everyone’s going off to these amazing places and I’m stuck here.”

Mahnoor shook her head and spoke, “You’re just seeing the bad side of things, Hiba. I’m not going anywhere either. We have two full months off from studying, isn’t that great in itself?”

“I just want the opportunity to say, ‘This summer vacation wasn’t boring because I actually did something’. But I’ll never get that chance.”

“Have a sleepover, go to some restaurant, pick up a new hobby,” Yusra ticked off a finger with every suggestion. “The options are endless!”

I looked down, “You guys don’t get it. My family is not the outgoing type.”

“I don’t see how leaving your house equals to you having a good time,” Mahnoor commented. “Do some artsy stuff. You love art, don’t you?”

“I do that every year.”

“And every year you come back and say that you actually had a good time,” Sonia pointed out.

I pursed my lips.

“I don’t get why we’re babying Hiba when I have a real crisis on my hands.”

Everyone turned their attention to Yusra as she droned on about the incapability of her suitcase to fit in her novels and how she had to choose between clothes and books.

I zoned out and cursed my luck yet again.

“I still don’t see why we can’t go,” I said as I scooped some nihari onto my plate. “Even Rana khala is going and she doesn’t even like travelling.”

“Rana khala is going to Hyderabad for two days for her exams,” Amma replied. “I’d hardly call that travelling.”

“Going out of your house is travelling.”

“Great! Then we’ll travel to Frere Hall tomorrow.”

I mentally kicked myself for saying that and whined some more.

Amma just said what she said every year, “Next year, Insha Allah.”

“Promise?”

No answer.

It was barbeque night at the Malik household and preparations were in full swing. I sat in my living room, mourning the death of my wishes.

“Why are you sad?” Hania asked.

“I’m not.”

“You look sad to me.”

“Get your eyes checked then.”

“I have perfect vision, unlike you,” Hania proceeded to prove her point by yanking out my glasses. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Seven thousand,” I grumbled and snatched back my glasses. One of the lenses popped out.

“Hania!” I accused loudly. “Look what you did.”

“You were the one who broke them!”

“Liar!”I marched out of the room and found Abba heaving our water cooler out onto the lawn.

“Look what Hania did.”

“Wasn’t that lens already a bit loose?” Abba put down the cooler. “If I remember correctly, you sat on your glasses last week. We needed to get that fixed, remember?”

I quickly tried to change the topic, “Who has a barbeque in this heat anyway?”

Abba just laughed and Hania sniggered in the background.

“Ugh!” I stomped at ground. “I hate you all!”

I stormed off to my room and slammed the door loudly to declare my frustration. Everyone went on as if nothing had happened. My tantrums were, unfortunately, a tiresome tradition.

From the sound of things, the guests had arrived. No one had come up to coax me out of my room as I had fantasised and I was getting restless now. Amma had loudly decided that she will not allow my tetchy behaviour to go on anymore and that no one else should feel compelled to call me down.

By now guilt was replacing anger. I wanted to express my remorse but my ego didn’t allow me to. Why I, a mere 14-year-old, had so much ego was beyond me. I knew there was something wrong about that. I was never thankful enough. I never saw my fault. I never thought before speaking.

I had no reason to be this way. I just did whatever I felt was right in the moment to get to my goal. But was I even aiming at the right goal? No out of city trips? Fine. I’ll enjoy what I have. No enthralling stories to tell my mates? That’s okay. They won’t care anyway.

I timidly got out of my room, found Amma and hugged her waist.

“I’m sorry.”

Amma smiled and smoothed my hair. Someone thumped my back and I turned to see Abba smiling down at me. I apologised to them both and revealed what I had been thinking all day.

“Looks like our Hiba is all grown up, hmm?” Abba pinched my cheeks and I smiled shyly.

Everyone’s laughter grew as the night wore on. Something expanded in my chest. Elation rose up my back like weightless clouds. I felt lighter somehow; like I could float straight up into the sky.

And as I sat there, in the slightly damp grass, biting into kebabs and revelling in old memories, I realised I didn’t want to be anywhere but here. Because right there, in that moment, that was all I could ever ask for.

Here, I was happy.

Published in Dawn, Young World, August 24th, 2019