THE ENCHANTED SEA

Childhoods are built on memories. Both good and bad ones.  By some luck Aizah had been blessed with mostly the good kind, courtesy of a fantastic family. 

Aizah was a single child and as a result had had a childhood… far from lonely. She had grown up watching television shows with her grandparents, discussing movies and songs with the aunts and uncles and stayed up nights talking about mundane things with her parents. She had found friends in everyone in the family with an age difference of at least 6 years to her. 

But among all the people around her, she had grown closest to her aunts and uncles. Siblings and cousins of her mother, to be specific. There would be dance sessions and makeovers when it was just the girls, which would turn into movie nights and sleepovers when her uncle joined in. 

Her uncle's name was Rizwan. First cousin to Aizah's mother, he was the family comedian. Theirs was an odd relationship. He showed affection by scaring her with creepy smiles and creepier jeering reminiscent of a television clown-ghost she was frightened of. She in turn reveled in the satisfaction of getting him scolded by the elders afterwards. She cried and whined every time he so much as widened his eyes at her. The back and forth drove everyone else crazy, but it seemed to work for them. 

They played two other games, often. One was where Aizah pretended to be a hairdresser and attacked Rizwan's hair with imaginary scissors, painful ferocity and an even more painfully fake British accent. "I'm just going to C-H-U-T it a bit here. A little bit there and – STOP MOVING, yeah?" She'd mutter utter nonsense while yanking his hair around. It was nice of him to not hold her responsible for the hair fall he'd go on to face in his 30s. 

But that wasn't Aizah's favourite game. What she loved more was something else her uncle had invented – the one where they went underwater. Huddling on the bed or a couch, they'd dive underneath a blanket and pretend to be sea creatures. There were whales, dolphins, jellyfishes. There were races between fishes and exciting escapades from oncoming ferocious sharks. Aizah didn't know how fun or otherwise the games were for her uncle, but her Little Mermaid-influenced 7 year old mind saw underneath the blankets an underwater world that glowed with the blues, greens, pinks and yellows of Ariel's world. As much as she enjoyed the love-hate bickering she shared with Rizwan most of the time, the underwater game was what she enjoyed the most. 

After graduating from school, Rizwan prepared to leave for college abroad. The entire family spent the eve of his departure together. They laughed and cried. Aizah didn't do either. She'd never shown any outward sign of affection toward her uncle in all these years and it would be too awkward to start now. She just told her mother and aunts about how upset she felt. Of course, telling them a secret was as good as broadcasting it on television. They told Rizwan about it in less than an hour. She really should've known better. 
***
"Appiii, let's play the underwater game again!"
Almer thrashed around on the bed like he was made of springs. Aizah bit back a wave of exhaustion. She loved her 9 year old cousin, she really did. He was the most adorable thing to ever have happened to their family. She cherished every single minute spent playing with him. But she'd go crazy if she had to pretend to be a fish with him again after the tiring day she'd had. At 18, roughly the age Rizwan had been when she used to play the same game with him years ago, she wondered how he'd had the patience to go through it the hundreds of times she'd asked.
"Appiiiiiii we have to play the fish game! Will you please put your phone down?"
She really didn't know why he had asked, if he was going to yank it away and pull the blanket on top of their heads anyway. 
***
Years later, Aizah had a sense of déjà vu. 
The family was together again, as usual. Not for the regular dinners or get-togethers, though. They were all there to see Almer off to college. Aizah looked around and saw her grandmother fussing over whether Almer had packed everything he needed. She looked at her mother smiling, but secretly panicking at the prospect of her favourite nephew leaving home for another country. 
She'd seen Almer through all his phases – the polka-dotted shorts at age 3, the fascination with farm animals and traffic policemen at age 10, the beanie obsession during his teens. 
Aizah didn't consciously realize that Rizwan, or even all her other relatives, might have felt the same way at some point before separating from the family. They weren't nearly as sappy a bunch for that. But she looked at her baby brother and wondered when he'd grown from being a chubby little kid who needed his sister to create an enchanted sea for him beneath his blankets, to a late-teen ready to leave home for another country.