Personal Narrative: My Trip To My House

Every Saturday night I invite few of my friends to my house. We play PlayStation and order food. A little party, we call it. But last night, I didn’t invite anyone. In fact, I never wanted anyone near me. Except two. And those two, didn’t bother. I advised all my servants to make people go if they ask for me.

‘Make any excuse you want’ I said.

Few friends came uninvited and left unattended. I wanted to sit alone in my room. And ponder over what I have done. I was sinful and being in quarantine was the punishment I decided for myself.

It wasn’t a good day yesterday. A black cat crossed my way and I have seen such things in movies. A bad omen, it is. I had a row with Kamran. But that isn’t the mistake. Had I got some more time, I would have

I was looking for my car. Hands in my pockets, searching my keys in those. Behind the row of cars, I saw Kamran standing with a guy. Propelled to his black Civic, hands crossed on his chest and one leg curled around the knee. Pushing the door of the car.

I galloped towards him, having no idea of what I was going to do. I disentangled my hands from my pockets.

‘I was going to leave her any….’ I started pounding his face. In me, there was a fire lit years ago. Kindled now. On his face, I saw confusion, fury and covering that, was blood. That soothed me, calmed a bit of fire in me. And with that consolation, I continued. I continued pounding him. Thrashing him. Tossing him from one corner to another. But one thing I still wonder, why he didn’t riposte.

I was going to land a punch on his nose when a bloke stopped me. He took me away from the ground. And in fury, I smacked him. With that smack, exploded a silence. Funeral silence. I saw a crowd of people circling us. Maham hiding behind a girl in the

He was Danial. And when I saw his face, the fire in me diminished. It dwindled and ended like it was never there. I wanted to apologize, hug him, and tell him how sorry I was. But I stood there like a mannequin. He darted his rheumy eyes on me, sniffed and left the scene. Crowd dispersed leaving me and Kamran alone. He stood there and watched me go in my car. Hands crossed like they were before, blood still on his face.

I have texted him twenty three times and every time I wait for his reply. But he never does.

#

‘I’ll have lunch in my room’ I said to Chacha Silu. He has been working with our family since my father was of my age. He was a small guy when he joined. Now, he is in his fifties. He came with his father who was our driver. His name’s Saeed but his father used to call him Silu with love. Now, only his acquaintances refer to him with his real name.

Chacha Silu nodded and left the room.

I look at my cellhphone. The LED blips. A new text message. Danial replied. Wait. No. It’s