“What? What is your name? Can you please say it a bit louder?” I asked the newcomer in my class. “Sir, I am Zahra,” she said stammering. “Oh, Zahra, where are you from?” I asked the six-year-old girl again. “Sir, she is from Buleda,” her friend answered for her. I felt that she was uncomfortable for it was her first day, so I didn’t ask her anything rather gave her some time to settle herself with the class’ environment. The bell rang soon thereafter. Before leaving the class, I assigned the students to draw a painting and bring it the next day. “The painting must contain a good message behind it,” I instructed them. They all said “yes” in one voice and I left the class passing the last smile to the newcomer Zahra. When I went home, I recalled everything about my last class specifically about the newcomer. She was so astonished and hesitant. I was reminded of my little sister who had passed away. The next day when I reached the class, I asked the class monitor to collect the paintings. “Sir, Zahra is not giving her painting,” the monitor complained. I asked her to move and went to Zahra myself. “Yes Zahra, have you accomplished the assignment?” I asked her smiling. She kept her eyes down and hesitated. “Don’t be afraid of me. I am your elder brother, dear,” I added. After a brief silence, she asked me to come closer. I bowed my knees down and took my ear to her. “Sir, please don’t show it to anyone. Please sir,” she requested. I smiled and asked her to bring her ear closer. “Don’t worry, dear. I won’t show it to anyone. Now smile,” I said even more slowly. She smiled and looked at me thankfully. After the class finished, I hurriedly left for home owing to a bad headache. I remember this headache the day my sister had died. I took the drawings with me. At night, I took out all the paintings from my bag. I checked all the drawings but Zahra’s was missing. I searched my complete stuff but couldn’t find it. It was nearly 10pm. I took my bike and went all the way to my school’s office to see if I had left it there. Even after almost 30 minutes of searching, I couldn’t find it. That only drawing meant a lot to me because it was made by someone in who I saw my little sister. The headache grew intense and I fluffed in a chair with my head in my hands. Suddenly someone touched me from behind. As I turned around, the lights went out. I could see a girl was standing there but couldn’t see her face clearly. “Yes! Who are you and what do you want at this time?” I asked her. She didn’t answer but handed over a page to me and turned around. The lights came back. It was Zahra’s drawing which was in my hand. “Excuse me! May I know you, please? And from where did you get it?” I asked. She stopped and turned her face to me. And then my world collapsed. The Earth shook and my eyes rolled over after seeing her face clearly; she was the one for whom I had thought each moment of my life after her passing. She was the one I smiled at the most. She was mahwish, my little sister who had left the world many years back. “Don’t think I am far from you Lala. Zahra is also me. Allah the Almighty has gifted me back to you in the shape of Zahra. How can a little sister be far from her brother? Take care of your angel, Lala. Never lose her and always be with her. She is your little sister. She is Mahwish in Zahra.” She said emotionally and then vanished. I ran after her but she had long disappeared. I wailed loudly taking her name but she was not going to hear me now. For she went back to the world she came from leaving Zahra for me. The whole night, I couldn’t sleep but looked at the drawing which was made by Zahra. Coincidentally, the drawing which was drawn by her, was once shaped by Mahwish back in the old days. The next day when I asked Zahra about the drawing, she just smiled but did not say anything. “Sir, when she was making the drawing, she had a different picture in front of her but when she started to draw, her eyes were closed and she drew this one.” Iqra her friend revealed. I understood it was Mahwish in Zahra who drew this painting. Afterwards, whenever I was around her, all my worries started to fade away. Because she had become as special for me as Mahwish was. All of a sudden I got a new life. The writer is a teacher at DELTA in Turbat. He can be reached at alijanmaqsood17@gmail.com Published in Daily Times, February 2nd 2019.