“Bilal beta, for God’s sake, please wake up! You’ll be late again.”
Bilal turned in his bed to look at his mother standing next to the window.
“I barely slept, ma’a. What time is it?”, he groaned as he shielded his eyes from the sunlight coming through the window.
“It’s 7:45. You slept through all of your alarms.”
“What?!”, he blurted out, jumping out of bed— suddenly wide awake— and rushed to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, he was downstairs.
“Bilal, how’s your preparation for the maths test beta?”, his mother asked— motherly concern evident in her tone— from behind the kitchen counter, as Bilal hurried into the kitchen and took a banana from the fruit basket.
“I’ve been studying really hard ma’a, but I’m not so sure”, he said as he grabbed his backpack and headed towards the door.
“Good luck beta. I wish you’d have a proper breakfast”, his mother said, frowning as she followed him out the front door.
“No time, ma’a. Please pray. Khuda hafiz!”
Later that day, Bilal returned home— a bunch of yellow daffodils in his hand. Mama’s favorite, he had thought, while buying them from the local flower shop earlier. His father was sitting in the lounge, looking sullen. Bilal groaned to himself.
“Bilal beta, did you get into a fight at school? Your principal called today.”
“I didn’t start it, baba”, Bilal muttered quietly, joining him on the sofa.
“Look beta”, his father wrapped an arm around him, “I know that you’re struggling, but you must know that I’m here for you”, he paused, then smiled, “You got daffodils? They were your mother’s favorite.” He sighed, “You must miss her a lot, beta.”
“I do, baba”, Bilal smiled, looking across at the armchair, where he could see her, seated ever so gracefully, smiling back at her son.
*This was one of the top 5 stories at ChaiChalk’s 300 Word Stories competition
