When we finish the meeting, unexpectedly, we bump into Noah.

Noah, as I call Nakash, and I have been friends since childhood. He is popular at school, but unlike me has numerous other friends. I did too once, but that was last year. He is always up to something, never studies, is kind, outspoken, short-tempered, and loves sports, or literally any kind of hassle.

We have practically spent our whole school life together; from doing homework to attending school programmes, from going on field trips to giving exams, from standing in assembly lines to participating in sports competitions, as good natured opponents and as best friends, we have been through thick and thin over the years.

This year, he has been looking out for me a lot, since he noticed something was awry, even though I haven’t offered any exposition to his suppositions till yet.   

“Hey, Lex!” he runs up to me in the corridor, his mahogany brown hair bouncing up and down. It dawns on me that we have numerous hues of brown hair in Pakistan, from light to dark, and every shade seems to rule. “I saw you guys from the window and got a toilet pass from the teacher. Did you get a bodyguard?” 

I look at Zayden, over my shoulder and he distances to let us have some space.

“Yeah, this is Zayden. What’s up?”

“You tell me what’s up? Are you alright? Are you transferring to some other place?” he frowns.

“I am fine. Yes, I am leaving. No, I will be getting home tutored.”

“What’s going on? When will you tell me, man?”

I look around, then pat his shoulder, “I will explain everything, call me when you get home. Okay?”

He nods. “See you, mate.”

“See you soon.”

He walks back to his classroom, which once used to be mine as well.

I tell Zayden, I have to get some coke and crisps from the canteen, at which he tells me to wait in the car instead, and heads there himself. 

Shrugging, I exit my college and make my way towards the car, walking down the pavement, fancying the grey pattern. A man in his early thirties collides into me. 

“Watch where you are going, will you?” he snarls.

“Sorry,” I say.

As he passes me, he mutters, “People just keep getting dumber. Feels like all the good in this world will be gone soon.”

“Well, if you saw that I wasn’t watching where I was going, why did you still choose to come and hug me?” I shout after him.

My conscience tells me to cool down and leave it be, but I don't heed the advice.

“You are blind. The fault was yours and now you have the nerve to talk me down,” he stops in his tracks, and faces me.

“I don’t need to talk shit like you down.”

“Hold your mouth, kiddo. If one more word spills outta there, you’re going down today.”

“I said, if you were watching where you were going, why didn’t you avoid me.”

“You really want your teeth knocked out that bad?” he approaches me.

“You didn’t avoid me,” I repeat, deadpan.

“You are going to die here.”

“Say that again,” I say smugly, feeling my restraint break free.

“I said, you are going---” he braces himself to throw a punch, and mentally I have already dodged it.

“Hey!” Zayden darts up, startled.

He apologises to the man, seeking peace. The man curses at me and resumes his trek. I roll my eyes, the anger spurning to dematerialise.

Zayden glances at me uneasily before unlocking the car. I follow him wordlessly.

“You can let it out,” he says, as he fires the engine up.

“What’s there to say? Some people have gotten so stubborn. They lack reasoning and logistics. They don’t want to have proper, ethical arguments. Why do they have to indulge in brawls, when things can be solved with a sensible debate?”

My anguish is met with silence, so I continue.

“You have proven your point and they will have no more to defend, but in the end, they continue to stick to their old views. It doesn’t make sense does it? Close-mindedness.”

“Extremity is always harmful.”

“Yeah. I know almost everyone has that concept of black, white and grey; but I am not sure how many people actually observe the grey in their lives. In real life, the extreme positives or negatives don’t even exist. Maybe they did, in some parts of history, but it has ceased since then. Most of the time, everything is grey. It's no longer good Vs evil. You are either more good than bad or more bad than good.” 

Zayden holds onto tranquillity at a stretch.

“Personally, I just refer to it as the theory of compromise. In all probability, it is already a practising concept to some, but to me it has an identity too. We don’t need to choose sides in everything, unless it is a competition, or a battle between right and wrong. There are so many different ways people view righteousness too. There is no complete righteousness or perfection anywhere, just like there is no ultimate wrong. It is rather just the greater evil and the lesser evil, or the greater good and the lesser good.”

Zayden looks at me, then chuckles. “It seems like you believe in this theory of yours, rather intensely.”

My ears turn red, and I speak no more.

“But I agree with you. I don’t expect any more from people than the basics of morality.”

I nod, peering through the windowpane, surveying the passing road, vehicles, buildings and the greenbelt, blankly.