Mehreen tells me a story she had told me a few times before. She likes telling her stories and I like listening to her. A very sweet lady she is.
When she was a child, her school had these sweet scented Orange Sandwiches. She described them as having soft, milky pillow like bread that would gently compress under her fingertips. Inside would be a generous layer of orange jam that had a fragrance that would make her mouth water before her teeth would even touch it. When they did, the bread would collapse like a cloud immediately soaking up the sugary juices. Resulting in the perfect contrast of juicy orange against the warm pillowy bread.
Mehreen only ever got one rupee as her pocket money and she would spend it on nothing but on a delicious sandwich. She loved those sandwiches so much that one evening she decided that she would buy two next time instead of one.
The next morning, Mehreen went to a school with two rupees in her pocket. Happy about her soon to be lunch of not one but two orange sandwiches.
In class she quietly showed off her two coins sitting neatly in her plastic, stationary box. Her friend who at the time had only one coin, saw this and suggested that Mehreen put her two coins in her stationary box . Her reason being that they would have lunch together? Kids right?
Ofcourse when recess finally arrived, Mehreen rushed to take back her two coins. The innocent girl expected that her coins would be returned but her friend however, refused sharply, insisting that the two coins belonged to her and that Mehreen had only lent one. Mehreen was shy but she fought as much as she could for her money but this argument immediately escalated when the friend stood up to complain to the teacher.
Confused, afraid and betrayed, Mehreen couldn't do much to handle the situation on their own.
The teacher had no evidence as to whom owned two coins and who owned only one. So the most reasonable thing to do was to talk to talk to their parents. Since Mehreen lived right across their school, they went there first.
As Mehreen and her friend approached her home with the teacher, the faint rustle of the broom bristles became louder and louder. Someone was sweeping the concrete floor in steady, practiced arcs with a short handled jharoo.
At this point Mehreen was afraid and very nervous for she hadn't told her mother about the extra coin she had.
The night before she had waited until her mother was out of sight and then slipped quietly to her father and asked for a coin in a whisper. He had given it without question and she tucked her coin away, pursuing herself she would keep it hidden. A tiny but thrilling secret of a small child.
This morning, just like everyother day, her mother had pressed one coin into the palm of Mehreen's hand, completely unaware that Mehreen carried another. Two coins and no one in the house knew the full truth and wouldn't know unless the teacher asked more questions, which she didn't do.
When the teacher gently parted the thin curtain hanging at the doorway and peered in, her mother paused mid sweep, lifted her head and met the teachers eyes. Her expression shifted from calm focus to quiet concern, broom still in hand, a light film if dust settling around her knees.
Mehreen's heart was beating out of her chest. She knew what her mother was going to say. But her feelings forced her to stand there looking like a greedy theif next to the actual culprit.
"No, I only gave her one rupee this morning..."
I'm sure that if the teacher had actually spoken with the friend's parents the truth would have been revealed although I get the feeling her mother would've taken her side considering that's where she got her Cunning nature from.
Maybe If she had spoke she wouldn't have lost her coin. It is most likely that a part of her told her that no one would believe her since no one knew about what she did and saying something then would make her look desperate to save face or have that coin. She lost both things that day.
I can't imagine how her how her favourite, sweet smelling orange sandwich tasted that day.
I feel an insane amount of pity, feeling what she must have felt, because they're emotions that I, myself am far too familiar with.