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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Zaryaab
My heart shuddered as I placed the flower over the soil with all the spread fresh rose petals. The light pink flower standing out against the bright rose petals.
It was her favorite flower.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I gazed at all the other graves. Moving away from her grave, I felt tears building up in my eyes. My gut wrenching painfully. The late afternoon sun shined down upon the green land. I walked down the hilly path of the graveyard and came out of the rustic gates.
My black car parked not far as I opened the door and sat in. Casting a last glance at the graveyard, I whispered a small prayer and drove away.
The peaceful roads of Swat greeting me as I drove. And I sighed out loudly. No matter how far I'd go, all roads would lead me to Afaaf. All paths would lead me to her. And she'd become the destination. No matter wherever I go.
She was everything that I needed. Everything I could breath. No words were able to describe what I felt for her. And being away from her for so long made me realize this. I was drawn to her, almost magnetically. My feelings for her were as of the strong current of sea that's engulf everything within if caution not be taken. A large gulp and the whoosh of wind that'd destroy anyone playing with the tides. But it wasn't anything that brought the roughness or edgy-ness to the relationship instead it was relation of utmost care, softness like silk, pure and honest, rosy and extremely magnificent.
It was love all along that I felt for her.
But I never confessed.
I had instead pushed that chance away.
The familiar gates came into view and upon seeing the car, the guards pulled them open making me roll the car into the drive through. When I stepped inside my home, the fragrance of fresh flowers greeted me as I took a soft whiff of the smell before making my way upstairs.
Opening the bedroom door, I was greeted to the sight of my baby boy softly crying making me almost rush to him and take him in my embrace.
Carefully swaying him in my arms, I hushed him by singing a Pashto lullaby softly to him. Feeling him instantly hush down. Pulling away, I held him close to my chest.
The door of the bathroom opened and she stepped in. A soft smile plastered across her face as she walked out. Her eyes softening making my heart warm. As she stepped besides me, I placed a small kiss across her cheek.
" Mm. I just went to the washroom a minute ago!" She said softly running a finger across our baby's soft cheek.
" Look he looks just like you!" She laughed as the baby boy scrunched his nose in his sleep making me grin.
He did look like me but he had brown eyes, so brown that they didn't resemble with Afaaf's rather with Ronaq. My sister had the same eyes. Rich brown. And he had a slim nose like mine and beautiful lips like Afaaf's. He had forehead like Afaaf's but overall according to everyone and Dadi Gul Jan, our baby looked like me.
