The Summer Crown.

Middle East summer prevailed at its peak, and the timing was painfully wrong to land on international grounds for the first time in my life.  They said it was 46 degrees, but for me it felt like boiling point. The sun rays seemed to burn the skin and the eyes.  I held her close to myself knowing that people were staring. I held her gently.  I could hardly see much ahead of me, just shadows as they came nearer and fleeting assumptions of fast approaching people.

I held on to her expecting her to elevate me from the core of the volcano I was in, literally. Cars drove past like lightning and the friction the tires made with the road was deafening. I could almost see sparks being emitted. My chiffon dupatta was at the verge of catching fire. Hot winds blew against my face giving it a steam sauna. There was steam in my hair.

 I missed home.

I continued to walk. More and more people stared at me. Some of them whispered to each other and laughed. I knew they were amused that I was holding on to her like she was the Bible. I knew I was fiercely possessive about her and it showed in my eyes. I noticed the laughter aimed at me, but I vowed never to belittle my prized possession and vowed to carry her wherever I went.

Days passed and it took me immense strength to adapt to the new place. She was my only saving grace. I became famous for carrying her around all the time. To most people, I was a complete weirdo.

I braved a lot of criticisms and still carry her around. She shadowed me when I wanted her to. I did not even ask her for it. She canopied me giving me the calm, and the exclusive darkness I longed for. She hovered around me like a guardian angel.

She is my POPY umbrella.