Thousand Years | A Shubman Gill & Ishan Kishan Fanfiction ✓

Harun and Kareem

Winter of 1282 AD, Delhi

“They took her away, Kareem. Her father could not pay the taxes so they took HER away. The Sultan's men dragged her with them. I begged her father to take my money but do you know what he told me?”

“What?”

“That she was taken as a slave and no amount of money could now free her.”

******

Summer of 1277 AD, Delhi 

Kareem watched as girl after girl came to the worshop asking for utensils, vases and pots. Some of them stayed longer under the pretense of watching his friend, Harun with clay-stained hands, shaping objects using his hands and his heart. Kareem could see that the girls were not looking at the life cycle of a pot but rather they were ogling at the handsome potter.

Harun was that work of art that knew it was rare but never took pride in it. Even now with a small audience, Harun’s eyes were focused. Kareem knew that Harun was aware that these girls were interested in him and not his art and that his father allowed the teenage boy to display his craft at the workshop because his beauty was good for business.

A lot of the eager visitors, coming only to watch him would gradually learn that Harun found peace in pottery. Fascinated by his calm demeanor they would slowly become one with him and the temptation to take something created by him would be too strong to resist.

About two years had passed since Harun started coming to the workshop.

He was a local favourite amongst all the girls.

At night, his visage coloured the dreams of many admirers. Some of the girls even had bets going among them regarding which lucky girl would finally win his affections. In moments when they would be tired of the lack of progress in their relationship with Harun they would turn to Kareem for help. Or even advice. Anything.

When Kareem would shrug at them saying he did not know the way to his friend’s heart they would silently curse him.

Beneath their hatred for Kareem, lied jealousy. Oh to be Harun’s best friend, they thought, looking at the sky, angered with the creator, what good fortunes you've given that undeserving boy!

*****

Monsoon of 1277 AD, Delhi

It was the first shower of the year. The whole town was wrapped in tranquillity. The rainwashed earth was bright with colour and as the smell of petrichor wafted in the air, Harun sighed. Kareem had finished embroidering a new carpet and in order to show it to Harun, he had decided to visit the workshop, show the carpet to him and have lunch together. As soon as the boys had finished eating, they heard the heavens rumble and before they had the chance to exchange a look of ecstasy, it had started raining.

Within moments the whole marketplace had emptied of strollers, the only people left were vegetable and fish vendors, potters, carpet-weavers and blacksmiths.

“Good lord, Harun, look! The heavens are in no mood to be merciful!” Kareem said, as the dulcet rain gave way to an impending storm.

Harun watched the rain droplets enlarge.

“It’s unusually heavy for the first shower.” His eyes were filled with concern for his father who had gone to a neighbouring town to buy some coal for their house trusting Harun with the business.

His thoughts were interrupted by a figure drenched in rain that was hurrying towards their workshop. When Harun looked closely, he saw a girl, probably of the same age panting.