By: Hafiza Humna
‘Hello!’ I said to the girl sitting next to me. ‘As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum’ she answered with a frown. That’s strange, I thought but I didn’t say anything as just then our teacher entered the class and we all sat down.
We had shifted from USA to Pakistan. I was 11 years old and the only child of my parents. I was admitted into a very high-standard and famous English medium school of the city. All the students were very rich and modern but the girl named Rida sitting next to me was quite strange. She irritated me with her very presence. Almost everyday we had arguments. Many times I decided to change my seat but I could not do so for one reason or the other.
On the very first day we had had a fight. Her eraser had fallen on the floor. I picked it up and gave it to her hoping she would be my friend. But she said, “Please give it to me with your right hand!” I got angry and threw it on the floor saying, “Stupid, pick it up yourself.” Next day she made up with me but after a few days, it happened again. This time I was giving her a pen and she told me again to give it to her with my right hand.
“What is the problem with you?” I asked her.
“Islam tells us to do everything with our right hand,” she explained.
“O.k! Let’s go drink some water. I’m feeling so thirsty.” When we reached the back yard of school and I started drinking the water while standing, “Ruby sit down!” she said.