Hello Friends, 

How are you? It’s been a week of many happenings around the world. There’s so much pain that’s calling for our attention. Just as I was recovering from last weekend’s ousting of Pakistan’s Prime Minister setting the country up for even more uncertainty, I was traumatized by the subway shooting that took place in Brooklyn, NY. My family and friends, in particular my Mom, rely on the subway system to commute. After I called my circle and was relieved to know that everyone was well, I thought about people around the world for whom this sort of trauma is an everyday reality. During this weekend of collective holidays, I am thinking and praying for everyone facing hardship and insurmountable challenges. In this instance, I am grateful for the opportunity to lean into community and for the reminder of the fragility of life and the illusion of safety. This brings a deeper sense of appreciation for the life I get to live and the ones I get to touch. 

For this week, I’m sending you an excerpt of my short story, “Chanda’s Moon”, that I submitted to the Write Practice contest last week. It’s published on the Short Fiction Break where you can read the rest of the story. The theme of the story was “happily ever after”. I hope this story sends some light to your weekend. If you like it, you can vote for it here to give it a chance to win the Reader’s Choice Award. 

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Chanda's Moon

Chanda’s aching muscles were relieved under the soothing light of her namesake moon. Although Mrs. Khan offered her a ride from the evening’s festivities, she declined and walked to the station. Catching the last Lahore Metro Bus in the nick of time, she left the refineries of Gulberg and went to Babu Saba. Her humble, little town was alive with food vendors preparing and serving from their carts to the many customers waiting in haphazard lines. The horns from motorbikes and rickshaws and the random neighing from the donkey carts added to the cacophony of people talking the night away in colloquial Punjabi. After a full day of hearing polite English peppered with some exquisite Urdu, the Punjabi was a ringing shrill.

Usually, Chanda would opt for a sweet mouth-watering jalebi, but she was already full with a continental full course meal from the Khan’s grand tenth-year Anniversary party. Working just under six months for the Khan’s, Chanda was honored to serve them and their guests at such a sumptuous affair. Draped in silky saris and dressed in three-piece suits, the guests danced and ate to celebrate the power couple fit to be stars in a Bollywood movie. When Mr. and Mrs. Khan descended from their spiral staircase with their two children, the glittering light from the chandelier highlighted their angelic faces and made the emerald necklace on Mrs. Khan’s delicate neck shimmer. Walking under the dreamy moonlight, she imagined herself to be one of the poised guests dressed in opulence with loving children and a husband who adored her. 

Leaving reality, she melted into a waking dream smiling to herself that such lunacy must be the gift of the moon. A motorbike passed by inches away bringing her out of the spell. The familiar license plate dropped her heart into her stomach. “It can’t be him,” she thought. Chanda covered her face from the nose down with the help of the fabric from her dupatta, but it was too late. He had spotted her and stopped to stare. He made his bike roar, but Chanda wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of reacting. With her head down and face still covered, she passed him by thinking about the many times she warmed the back seat of his bike. Walking towards her home, she let the moon illuminate her path.

Upon arriving at the ornate wooden door of her small dwelling, Chanda looked right and left as if she was being followed. With trembling hands, she held the rusty old lock and probed it with her key…Click here to read the rest. 

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If you like the story, the link to vote for the story is right here. Just click on the green button and vote for “Chanda’s Moon”.  

Tonight I have the great honor of hosting a family to break fast with us. I’m off to cook and look forward to a meaningful and fun-filled dinner. What are you cooking this weekend? 

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If you liked this week's email, I'd love it if you could share it with a friend. Thank you for your continued love and support.

With love and gratitude, 

Sana Fayyaz

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