No one noticed the sky darkening to an inky gray. Once the workers had left the building site, night descended into a darkness that inched into every corner of the abandoned cement building. Mist had risen from the rain that had fallen in torrents. The downpour had cleared the air and sky of impurities. The steps were slippery and the unfinished walls had let in the rain. Puddles, seemingly an endless expanse on the unfinished concrete floor, reflected the sky. The ubiquitous splash of purposeful steps was loud in the silence of the work site.

Asha was here with a purpose. Her coat collar was up to unsuccessfully protect her from the odiferous stench of sewage that overwhelmed her nostrils.

As she stepped toward the middle of the rooftop, her flashlight focused on an old man setting up a telescope. Dressed in brown slacks and a neat jacket with its hood pulled up over thick white hair, the man struggled to lift one of the heavier parts of the telescope. Asha rushed forward, the man’s name on her lips, forgetting the slippery slate of the roof. She barely stopped herself from sliding forward into Naseem, her friend, an old man so out of place in this setting. Yet he emitted an aura of confidence. He glanced up at Asha when he heard her gasp of surprise. After adjusting the telescope until it was trained at the clear, starred sky, Naseem smiled and motioned her over; he knew he didn’t have to break the comfortable silence that surrounded them. Asha stepped closer, carefully this time. This unlikely friendship had blossomed in the lonely days after Asha’s mother had died. Over the three months that had passed, Asha and Naseem had come to the work site every week to gaze at the stars that they both shared a passion for. They had become close friends who had come to count on each other. Asha didn’t have to pretend in front of Naseem and could revel in the silence they shared. There was no pressure to make small, happy talk or smile.

Asha flipped her flashlight off and peered into the telescope. The stars were beautiful tonight. They lit up the sky like millions of lamps lit for Diwali. They reminded Asha of her mother, who too had shared her passion for star-gazing. She had met Naseem through a family friend when she had mentioned her love of star-gazing just days after her mother’s death. The pain had still been raw and she had welcomed the distraction. This abandoned worksite, a secret of her and her mother’s, soon became Naseem’s secret as well. Tonight the stars in their heavens appeared so close to her that Asha reached out her hand to touch them. Here was the only place where the city’s heavy, cloying smog that choked all its occupants, didn’t exist.

“Asha, how was your day?” Naseem finally spoke, his raspy voice interrupted by deep intakes of his cigarette. Asha was transported to a time when her mother was still alive. Just months ago, her mother had met Asha at the door as she came home from school, with the same question. It had been just 3 months ago, when her mother had died. She had grown steadily more and more ill. Asha’s mother had always been home. She was a steady presence contrary to her working father who put in long hours during the day as a construction worker, and held another job as a watchman at night to pay the bills. It had been a long time since someone had asked her how her day had been. She and her father were alone now. Her father was even wearier these days and rarely spoke to Asha.

“Fine,” replied Asha turning from the telescope. Naseem had filled a void lacking of communication and steady companionship since Asha’s father worked even longer hours to pay for the medical fees. The two friends were silent for the next hour taking turns looking at the stars. Asha focused the telescope on a cluster of three bright stars her mother had picked out. “Our family” she had proclaimed, glancing at Asha. Asha had asked why there weren’t any more? Why were there no stars for her grandfathers and grandmothers? Her mother had just responded with a mournful look.



As she grew older, she learned that her family extended only to one grandfather, who showed great dislike for her mother and her. Her father had been his only child, a devout Muslim boy, who had fallen in love with her mother, a Hindu orphan. Asha had been raised with core values from both religions. She loved and gave charity, she prayed and sought peace, but that wasn’t enough for her grandfather. He would never forgive his son for his sin of marrying a Hindu; the grandfather disowned his son. From that moment the grandfather had no family. Although Asha had never met him, she felt a deep, abiding hatred for that prejudiced man.

Naseem noted her growing fatigue, and checked his watch, its bright dial illuminating his face. Asha glanced at him, studying his face, “I have to go. See you tomorrow.” She dashed towards the stairs, almost slipping again. She raced down the stairs two at a time. Asha cursed herself, as she ran gingerly through the wet sand. As she reached the edge of the construction site, she stopped under a street lamp. Moths fluttered near the top, drawn to the dim light. The flickering light was enough for Asha, though, as she pulled a faded photograph from her pocket. The photo depicted a grinning man next to his son. His eyes, full of pride, were concentrated on the boy. His large, protruding nose was duplicated on his son’s face. Asha had seen this nose countless times before; every time she looked at her father, every time she looked in the mirror and now, every time she saw Naseem. Of course, Naseem was her grandfather!

Just yesterday Asha had found the photograph in her father’s drawer while she was cleaning. Instantly she had thought it was Naseem. Written in a neat script on the back, the photo was labeled Dad and I. It was her grandfather in the picture. She had just wanted to prove her suspicion. But she feared a mistake and sheltered her discovery in looking at the stars. She had to look once more. Only when the watch had illuminated Naseem’s face was she certain that the photo and his face clicked. He was her grandfather.

Who was this man? Was Naseem the kind, benevolent star gazer, or the vengeance-seeking man who had cut ties with his only son? She didn’t know what to think. Naseem was so nice to her. She needed to ask him. It was time for her father to meet her new friend, anyway. She was apprehensive and continued to walk towards her home, imagining the scenario in the millions of ways it could play out.
- - - - -

The sunlight flooded the room and Asha grimaced at the brightness. She had been unable to fall asleep the night before. She was going to have a grandfather. Her stomach was filled with butterflies as she stepped out of bed. She made her way downstairs to her father in the kitchen. “Dad, can we meet my friend Naseem this afternoon?” Her father looked up, startled at the mention of this name. But there are many people named Naseem in this large city.

“Sure,” he replied with a guarded look of doubt. This was a rare afternoon he was going to spend with his daughter.
- - - - -

Asha and her father took the train to the other side of the city. Asha’s excitement mounted with every inch of city they passed by. Naseem lived near a family friend and she had been the one to initiate a meeting with Asha and Naseem in the first place. They stepped off the platform and walked toward the nearby apartment building. The posh entrance matched Naseem entirely, Asha thought as they rode up the elevator. With the ding of the elevator doors opening, Asha felt sick. Her insides quaked with apprehension and anticipation.

Naseem opened the door after she dropped the knocker onto the heavy wooden door. He smiled with surprise until Asha’s father stepped up beside her. The smile vanished and Nagaraj’s eyes hardened. He looked at his son with a distant shudder. Asha’s father’s mouth made an “o” of surprise as he looked from his father to his daughter, shocked.

“Grandpa,” Asha said, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes darting between the two men. Naseem turned to her at the sound of her voice, and looked at her with cold eyes that were nothing like those of her star-gazing friend.

“Who are you?” Naseem’s voice was calm in its rage; it froze Asha’s body. His snide tone had cut through her like the jagged edge of broken glass dragged across flesh. Tears welled in her eyes, like blood pooled on the surface of broken skin. “You are my grandpa, aren’t you?” Asha questioned, petrified to hear the answer.


“I have no family,” Naseem exclaimed, his voice sharp and his eyes flashing.

“But…”

“I do not associate with Hindu scum.” Naseem’s voice cut through Asha.

“Don’t speak to my daughter like that!” Asha’s father interjected, anger replacing the shock on his face.

“I have no family!” Naseem’s voice dripped with venomous acid and finality.

The door slammed shut. The prejudice in Naseem’s voice had silenced Asha and her father. Asha’s body unfroze, slowly, just as the ice melted around her. She turned to her father. The unsaid apology in his eyes broke Asha’s feeble wall of strength.

Asha bolted. She ignored the sound of her name as her father gave a withering stare towards the door and followed behind her. She could no longer see; the tears that had threatened to fall now escaped. Her braid hit her back to the beat of her pounding heart. She sprinted down the sidewalk. She knew that if she stopped, she would lose momentum to carry on. Her emotions, the feelings she had kept hidden since her mom had died, would come tumbling out. Her mind hadn’t yet registered where she was going; she just knew she needed to run away.

She bounded up the steps of the abandoned building. There were no workers there on Sunday. She finally caught her breath when she reached the edge of the roof before she dropped to her knees. She looked out at the broad city stretched around her. She began to see the flaws of what had once been her perfect city; now its old, unkempt buildings with their crumbling bricks, captured her attention. Today her star-gazing in the bright light of the sun showed no glittering, hopeful stars. She had never been as disappointed in life as she was in this moment. She lived in a world where people couldn’t get beyond prejudices and stubbornness. While the death of her mother was beyond human control, Naseem’s betrayal of their friendship did not have to be. She didn’t want to dream beneath the stars ever again.