Follow The Dreams

 Give me a photograph to hang on my wall - Superstar.

“So entry there is very tough in the Institute of Photography; they get thousands of applications and choose only a few for the course,” Jalal spoke as he cleaned the lens of his camera. Rukaiya nodded as she progressed to help him with the scattered papers on his desk.

“So what is the process to get in?” Rukaiya asked, observing a notepad with scribbled ideas.

“There is a topic of assignment for which we have to submit ten pictures each.” Jalal narrowed his brows a little. “But if mine is not unique, they won’t even consider my application.”

“What is the topic then?” Rukaiya enquired.

“Beauty.” Jalal shrugged halfway “And most people were already discussing nature pictures, babies, weddings… What will stand out?” He eyed Rukaiya, lost in her thoughts as she stared at one of the portraits he had taken of a child selling balloons on the street. It was a greyscale-toned picture taken in one of the busy intersections of the city. She smiled faintly as she placed it down and sighed. 

“I think beauty depends on perspective; you can find even the little things in life.” Rukaiya said knowingly, “Like this picture.” Jalal took the picture from her as Rukaiya wished him goodnight and retired to her room. Jalal smiled at the idea.

It was probably a week later when Hamida and Sultanam were sitting in the living area, munching on some dates and nuts, when Jalal came running. His sneakers screeched on the floor as he panted a little, throwing his bag down on the sofa, screaming, “I got in! I got IN!” Hamida got up, gasping, as she hugged her son proudly, as Sultanam eyed Humayun’s open office chamber, a little alarmed. 

“Your father is working. Be a little quiet.” Hamida reminded him as if she could read Sultanam’s mind. “Congratulations, my child.”

Jalal was so excited that he was sweating in his hoodie despite the pleasant weather. He took out an ID card from his jeans pocket and proudly showed it to his mother. “Here. I start tomorrow.”

“Go tell your father.” Hamida reminded him gently.

Humayun looked up from his laptop at his son, who was smiling his widest smile as Rukaiya, sitting across the table from him, jumped up in excitement to congratulate him.

“Can I see your assignment?” She asked. Jalal nodded, “It is in the backpack in the living room, go open it.” Rukaiya eyed Humayun for his nod before running down the corridor while Jalal turned to leave.

“You just got in. There is still a long way to go.” Humayun’s gruff voice made him stop and stare at his father, crunching his eyes to read a few numbers. He had again forgotten his glasses. 

“I know,” Jalal said softly.

“You see, people who don’t believe in themselves celebrate this. Look at Rukaiya. She cracked one of our biggest client deals today. Played them like a violin to accept our terms. Did you hear her brag? NO. Because she knows she can do better.” Humayun shook his head as Jalal inhaled before quietly leaving, closing the door behind him.

Jalal walked into the living room to watch the ladies beaming with joy at his assignment. On the table lay the ten pictures he had clicked, colourful and candid. Of the small joys in life. His mother’s smile when his father cracked a joke. Sultanam was tending to the flowers in the garden. Their cook smelled the freshly baked cookies. The children of the driver were playing with bubbles. Heer trying her hand at his guitar. Shakti was lighting the lamps for his mother’s puja. Jaivanta and Hansa were watching Heer’s dance performance. Udai was smoking his pipe, lost in thought, in a highchair below his father’s similar-looking portrait. One was a frame in his room, which was full of pictures and pieces of equipment. The last one was a silhouette of Rukaiya on the roof, the wind playing with her semi-curls as she watched the sunrise. The sky behind her was a hue of orange. He watched Rukaiya pick her picture up and smile at it. 

“Can I take this one?” She asked as he frowned.

“What will you do with it?”

“I will frame it, of course.” She shrugged. Jalal shook his head with a chuckle. 

“I will click better pictures of you to frame.” He reassured her. Rukaiya’s brows narrowed.

“No, I want this one. It will remind me of today.” She insisted.

“But…” Jalal remembered his father’s words. “It is no big deal. I just got in…” He shrugged. Rukaiya looked at him with a warning glance.

“Yes, it is a big deal. It is your first step towards a dream and a milestone that deserves to be celebrated.” She picked up the photograph and made her way to her room as Jalal followed.

“You didn’t tell me you had quite a feat yourself today,” Jalal spoke as they reached the threshold. “Baba said…”

“About the contract?” Rukaiya asked with her eyebrows raised. “I didn’t talk about it because we don't talk shop in the house, right?” She shrugged. “Besides, today is about you. Take the limelight, Jalal.”

“Why can’t we share it?” Jalal shrugged again. “Your achievement is also your first and deserves a celebration.”

“What do you have in mind?” Rukaiya asked. “How do we celebrate?”

“Let's go out to dinner.” He suggested. Rukaiya smiled at his suggestion. She had been following Jalal and Ajabdeh on numerous of their dinner dates like a third wheel, and they didn’t mind. Sometimes, Heer and Shakti had joined them.

“I will ask Heer.” She suggested picking up her phone.

“No.” Jalal stopped her by placing a hand on her phone. “I don’t want to tell them yet. Let it just be us.” Rukaiya nodded. 

“Okay, my treat then.” She insisted. Jalal smiled. “Okay, since you are the one who earns.” He made her chuckle.