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I didn’t say such a big thing just like that — there are moments in my life that make this statement a reality. I was a strong girl. My name is Alia. I used to live in a joint family. I had a cousin and two cousin-sisters who were like real sisters to me. My cousin's name was Ali. He had just recently started living with us.
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There was no friendship between me and him — in fact, forget friendship, whenever he was around, I would just walk away. I didn’t even know him well. One day, my parents and my uncle and aunt had to go somewhere — they had to spend a day and a night out. At that time, I was the only one at home. My cousin-sisters had gone to college, and Ali had also gone to university. That day, I had taken leave from my own university.
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My parents didn’t really want to leave me home alone, but the trip they had to make was very important. I told them, “I’ll manage — anyway, everyone will be back in two hours.” Eventually, my parents agreed and left.
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After they left, I was alone in the entire house, and my happiness knew no bounds. I went into the kitchen, picked up a pack of noodles, and started making them for myself. Along with that, I took out some tea, biscuits, and a pastry. Once I had everything ready, the door suddenly knocked.
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I was surprised — it was still early for my cousins to return. Who could it be now?
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I went to the door and asked, “Who is it?” The reply came, “It’s Ali, open the door.”
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Why would I open the door? I was alone at home, and he had come alone too. I went inside, quickly put away my food, wore my chadar (shawl), and then walked toward the door. I opened it, and he looked at me in surprise and asked, “Why did you take so long? It was just a door to open.”
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His tone was gentle. Had it been me standing that long at the door, the other person wouldn’t have been spared. Then, when he saw me wearing the chadar, he asked, “What happened? Where are you going? Is everything okay?”
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I said, “I’m going to a friend’s house. My parents aren’t home. When your sisters come, open the door for them, and don’t go out — I don’t have the keys.”
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Saying this, I left.
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My friend’s house was just a few houses away. I told her everything, but she wasn’t home either — she had gone out. Then, I went to another neighbor’s house. I didn’t get along well with them, but it was manageable.
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The only thing I didn’t like about their house was their son.
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Look, when a female guest comes to your house, shouldn’t you either go into another room or step outside? But no — wherever me and my friend would go, he would just follow us around, with his so-called “style.”
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Anyway, I didn’t even want to look at him, but that day, I had to tolerate him for two hours...
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