Death Certificate

"My uncle's getting us the permit, didn't I tell you guys?" Leila looked around the others, watching their blank expressions.

Rafay shrugged as he kicked at a pebble on the ground. "No."

Ma'az cocked his head. "I can't recall that ever happening, no."

"Well he is." Leila said, sounding doubtful. "Though I'm sure I did tell, you must not be listening."

"None of us?" Sasha scoffed, stretching her hand to wet it from the fountain as she was perched on it's edge, careful not to trip over it.

"You could have actually told us before, Leila. I would have been spared from all the beating around I've been doing for the passes." Bilal scowled as he propped his elbow on Hadi's lap who was sitting behind him on the fountain ledge.

"Oh poor baby." Ma'az snorted and earned a kick from Bilal who was up at the bench beside Leila.

"What is the problem with you, dick?" He growled.

"I'll kick you straight into your crotch, I swear if you say another word." Glowering at Ma'az Bilal snarled.

Hadi let loose a soft laugh as he averted his gaze from his gaze and looking around the garden he spotted Mirha in a distance standing on the cobbled path that led to the front gates, hand resting on a suitcase by her side, eyes roaming around the campus, as if looking for someone.

"I'll be right back." Hadi found himself saying as he jumped to his feet.

"What-?" Bilal began but Hadi was already walking away.

---

Even though she'd already bid him goodbye, Mirha wanted to know if he was free and out here if only she could talk to him about the paper and not anybody else, before she left for the holidays without discussing the exam with anyone.

Turning around on her heels to look on the other side of the path, her eyes found Hadi coming in her direction, hands shoved down in his pockets. Her mood instantly brightened and a grin split up her mouth. Half raising her hand she waved at Hadi, who smiled back no matter how faintly so.

"Were you with your friends?" Mirha asked once he reached her.

"Yeah." He shrugged. "Never mind though."

Tucking a strand that came undone behind her ear under the scarf, Mirha said sheepishly. "I was looking for you."

"I know." With the corners of his lips slightly curling up, Hadi peered down at Mirha who only came up to his shoulders. "So," he said after a pause, slipping a hand into the pocket, "how was the exam?"

Mirha bit down on her lip and gazed timidly at him. "I'm sorry."

His eyebrows arched up. "It wasn't good?"

"It was!"

"Then?"

"I was pretty confident about this problem regarding optimization, but someone told me I got the answer wrong. It held fifteen marks, Hadi."

"I see." He said looking away, his jaw clenched. Mirha feared she had disappointed him.

"I'm sorry." She said and added quietly, as if she knew it didn't really matter. "The rest went good."

"Did you recheck?"

"After doing it, twice, yes." Mirha nodded.

With a shake of his head, Hadi said. "I meant with the person who told you yours was wrong."

"No."

He scoffed. "And you accepted that it must be true just because the person said so?"

Mirha simply blinked.

"Do you remember the question correctly?"

"Yes."

"Good." He nodded. "Come on, let's get a seat somewhere." With that, Hadi turned around and started in the direction of the building of the department.

Upon reaching the fence wall, with Mirha bringing along her suitcase and a shoulder bag hanging from her arm, trudging behind Hadi, she took out a note book from the front pocket of the suitcase and pen from the side one, and handed it to Hadi who stood waiting.

Opening the notebook to an empty page, he placed it on the surface of the wall and bent over. "Question?" He glanced at Mirha.

Once she'd tallied the data of the problem question, Mirha waited as Hadi's hand worked over her notebook.

When he finally straightened up looking at her reproachfully, Mirha saw the answer that he'd circled a couple of times with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Next time girl, just don't put blind trust on someone."

Slowly, as if she still wasn't sure, Mirha let out a low laugh, eyes still on the circled answer; '5.80909'. "Oh thank God, oh thank you so much." She breathed, a hand on her chest as she finally looked up at Hadi.

"So how was the paper?" Crossing his arms over his chest, Hadi leaned against the wall.

Mirha immediately dived into a detailed description tallying every question she could remember, and the answer she'd written, making sure they were correct. She beamed once she finished. "So what do you think?"

Hadi smiled."I think I'd have to take you out for a treat."

"Okay." She laughed.

His eyebrows arched up as he gazed at Mirha doubtfully. "I said take you out. That means out of the college."

"Oh." She said, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "Not out. Get me something from the canteen. After all, I got all your hardwork paid for."

Hadi laughed. "Your persistence more likely."

"Not true." Mirha flushed as she muttered. "I'm getting late anyway. Better get going." She added with a perk.

"Sure."

She opened her mouth but before could have said anything, Hadi raised his hand. "Now before you start thanking me and apologizing for some really unnecessary stuff, let me confirm if I'm seeing you again, in what, a week?"

She chuckled. "Yes, okay."

"Good."

"Allah Hafiz." Mirha said.

"Yeah. Bye."

With a grin in his direction, she walked away, dragging her suitcase behind her.

Hadi watched her leave, with a weird unsettling feeling gnawing at his heart.

---

To say Mirha had fun at home over the break, would be wrong. Very wrong.

The evening she reached her small village, her brothers stood by the bus station waiting for her. Once at home, the melancholy that reeked from every corner greeted her like an old friend. Her sick, spluttering, coughing aunt the source of it. Her brothers didn't say on the way, and Mirha was caught off guard. Without a moment's rest, collecting the money she'd saved from the two months' pay to get herself a new phone, she took her aunt to the hospital.

The doctors, after inspecting her condition, told the family to have her admitted. Mirha's aunt refused, complaining it'd waste a lot of money, to which her uncle wanted to comply. Determined over not having any of it, she promised the reception she'd have the money deposited by the morning and sent her brothers to get their mother's jewellery cashed.

When Mirha had found out about the scholarship program, she'd been overwhelmed, for there was the chance of saving her mother's jewellery they'd intend to sell for her next year's college fee, and instead give it as a gift on her sister's wedding.

Life is more important than weddings and colleges, jewellery or even a piece of land you own. They lose every shred of significance in your life because you aren't living anymore. Life, for Mirha, was more important than saving what once belonged to her dead mother.

She took turns with her sister to stay at the hospital with their aunt, while one man of the family tagged along to keep guard, taking turns amongst themselves. The rest stayed home.

Her condition was not improving, she stayed unconscious, only coming back for brief moments. The rest stayed up all night, heads hurting, eyes burning from lack of sleep. Medications weren't working, and the week was already coming up. Mirha had to go back to college for the next semester.

Then the last day, her suitcase all packed up, prayers on her lips, dread growing in her heart, a miracle happened. She stayed conscious for half of the day, spoke a few words. Choking back a sob, Mirha felt as if a humongous weight had been painfully dragged across her heart, but finally lifted. Relived, that she'd be able to get back to college without having to worry as much as she was, she packed a box of the all time famous sweet that was known particularly for the village that was her home - intending to give it to Hadi who she hadn't quite been able to shake off her mind from whenever she thought of going back.

The final night, when Mirha came to meet her aunt, she was sleeping, her sister had gone to the washroom and Mirha saw that her aunt was never going to wake up again. Her heart fell down with a drag, she was scared for the second time in all her life.

People don't always get to have someone by their side as they die. Not everyone is fortunate enough. Her aunt for one, wasn't. That's what fate wanted of her life - alone you weren't when you came, but alone you better be when you leave.

Mirha called her coordinator, requesting she wouldn't be able to make it on the first say, only to be told a death certificate is what was needed to permit her from remaining absent.

Off running she went again, something she'd been doing for the past week and something she did for the coming three days. The hospital issued the certificate, the family performed the funeral and then Mirha finally booked the ticket for a ride back to Islamabad.

---