She is, Afaaf
عفاف ; Chaste, Virtuous, Decent , Pure.
A beautiful young woman with sparkling brown eyes.
He is, Zaryaab
زریاب ; Rich , wealthy, possessor of gold.
A handsome young man carrying the secrets of world on his shoulders.
She runs.
He ru...
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کچھ ایسا ہو یہ شام ڈھلے کوئ ہاتھ میں تھامے ہاتھ میرا کوئ بیٹھے میرے پہلو میں
میرے ہاتھ پہ اپنا ہاتھ رکھے اور پونچھ کے آنسو آنکھوں سے
وہ دھیرے سے یہ بات کہے یوں تنہا سفر اب کٹتا نہیں چلو ہم بھی تمھارے ساتھ چلیں!
Afaaf
(At 7 months pregnant)
I hadn't known how we landed into Islamabad and how we spend the last forty eight hours here. Everything was a blur before my eyes. I didn't know what we were doing. How we were doing?
It was the time I was chasing, running again. Trying to embrace his scent even if I could find it.
But the problem was, he was lost!
I couldn't find him.
He was no where.
No where in Karachi.
No where in province.
No where near me.
No where, where I wanted him to be.
No where, where I wished to see him.
I had lost him and the thought made me cry of whatever I had done to us. To the promise of the life we had made. To all the memories we had created. To the bond we had created. To the life we had shared.
And losing him meant losing myself!
And I was on the brink of losing my sanity without him.
Where had I not looked for him. Called out for him. He was a liar, he said he was with me all along, far but still with me. No he wasn't. He was a traitor. The biggest liar. He never understood me, never loved me. He was never there when I needed him the most! He wasn't anymore near me.
He was only in the dust of my memories.
I had lowered my gaze in utter agony when that day Shaya screamed to me about how cruel I was. She said that the man had begged her for granting him a day with me on the anniversary day. She had angry tears streaming down her face as she screamed and yelled for hours about how unlucky I had made myself.
Realization had slapped my face hard.
And then I was on my feet, running to stop him from leaving. Running to stop him from separating from me. Running to stop him for all of the remaining life. I had searched for him then everywhere. On the roads, outside my house. Every possible place where he could be but he wasn't anywhere. I'd turned to look at my back whenever I had an appointment. Whenever I shopped. Whenever I stepped out of the house. And each night I'd stand by the window and gaze out. In hopes that he'd be there, down the window.
