I write to you with a heart full of serenity, for the mere thought of you stills my otherwise bustling day. Countless clouds have gone past the sky since I last breathed in the aroma of your company. And what charming days were those spent walking beside you along the silent stream of spring.

I have missed you with each morning and every sunset and would do all in my power to see you again and to speak with you. Tomorrow, I shall send you my royal escort to cordially bring you to me. I sincerely wish that you would oblige to my humble request.

Yours,

Lucius Psellus”

Princess Celina finished reading the letter and gazed down the vast corn field spread across the horizon shimmering in the golden sunlight of the drowning sun. The evening wind blew across the field and rattled that piece of paper in her hands. A smiled lingered in her eyes and a song of joy and contentment started whistling on her lips.

She had met Prince Lucius a few months ago at one of the Gala of Spring in Provence . From the moment they laid eyes on each other they fell in love. Spring in Provence brings clear blue skies with spotless white clouds, a calmer ocean and a melodious air. Intoxicated in the beauty that surrounded them, the prince and the princess spent many a days and nights strolling along the silent shores; conversing about each other and falling in love ever so more deeply.

She felt the soft but firm touch of his hand on her hand as she glared down at the letter once again. She started smiling again. It was a beautiful evening. Tomorrow, when the sun loses its pinch, she will leave for Greece , the land of the Prince Lucius.

“ Nicaea Ducas,

I write to you with a heart full of distress. I believe somewhere in my heart I always knew that one day I shall write this letter to you. It has been three years since we had been together. You have been kind and amusing. But I guess my heart always desired for more; something that I have found in another man, an escapade of a life. By the time you read this letter, I would already have departed to Greece . I am going to follow my heart; I hope you find it in you to follow yours.

Thaleia”

The jester finished reading the letter and laid down an idle gaze on the dusty road that vanished into the hazy evening that was spreading across the horizon. There was an unwanted silence in the air; for once he wanted to hear a human voice, any voice, any words.

Nicaea met Thaleia during one of his performances in a town some 100 miles away; she was a theatre student and apparently had loved his performance. For the first time, he had strayed away from his regular comic acts and played a lone musician whose work is continuously stolen by his closest confidant. From the moment they met, they felt a spark, a strange energy between them. He could feel her presence on him physically whenever she was around; but he never physically felt her. With all the chemistry between them, there was always a hint of a distance between them.

The jester stared down at the letter in his hand; the silence had finally broken, in the distance he heard the sounds of horses’ hoofs getting closer and closer.

The prince had read the letter over and over again, reliving all the memories of her moments with the prince. The royal wagon was rolling up and down the countryside as the shadows started stretching themselves and the sun lost its battle against time.

As the cartwheels hit a ditch in the dusty road, the jerk caused the letter to slip from her hand and fly out the window. The princess ordered the escort to stop and stepped out of her wagon to look for the letter herself.

The jester saw a shadow lurking around in the haze; a wave of jasmine fragrance wavered along with the evening breeze. As the shadow got closer and came out of the haze, he saw the princess clad in a white and blue dress, hair tightly tied on her back, with a lost look on her face, approaching him. Before he could stand up, the princess had approached him and was staring at the letter in his hand.

“Excuse me sir, that letter would be mine and I would like to get it back” she said with a straight but firm tone.

“Pardon me my lady but I believe you are mistaken; this letter belongs to me” he said while standing up.

“How dare you claim such preposterous claim? I demand the letter be given to me. Guards!” her guards approached him and took the letter away from him and gave it to the princess.

As the princess started reading the letter she realized it didn’t belong to her; a soft smile appeared on the jester’s lips. The princess looked at him and gave his letter back to him, “Please accept my apologies”.

He smiled and looked at the princess’s worried face; he offered her to look for her letter, which she approved without paying much attention to it.

“A special letter/” he asked while searching for the letter in the haze of the departing evening.

“A matter that does not concern you” she replied with a stern tone.

He smiled again and kept looking for the letter.

After a while the letter was found but by that time the night had opened its wings; her royal council advised her to stay overnight just outside the town. Once the station was made for the princess, she occupied her seat beside the fireplace and started reading the dirt-ridden letter again. The jester, who was offered a meal in favour of his efforts to search for the letter, sat at the farthest corner and stared at the princess.

Her face glowed in the shimmering flames that rose from the burning pile of wood; a lock fell down on her shoulder and a faint smile rested on her lips. She felt his eyes constantly staring at him; she looked at him with lost eyes, and while thinking of something else, kept staring at him.

“I have seen you somewhere, from before” she finally said to him.

“I was the court jester” he said with a painful smile.

“Was?” she needed explanation.

“I wasn’t funny anymore” he said with a wide smile appearing on his face as he enjoyed the statement.

“Not a good trait for a jester” she said with a smirk of satire.

“Most definitely” he said.

“So what do you do now, except for sitting on a deserted road outside the town at the dying hours of the day?”

“I perform at theatres” he said with an unintentional pride in his voice.

“Are you any funny there?”

“Tragedies only” he said while the smile still accompanied his words.

“Interesting” she had nothing to do to kill time, so an interview seemed like a good thing to spend some time before she would retire to her tent, “The letter you were holding in your hand, is that a part of it?”

“The beginning and the end of it” he said.

“Why did she leave?” she realized she shouldn’t have asked that question but then waited for an answer.

He looked at her, smiled with a squint in his eyes and said, “I wasn’t funny anymore”

She smiled, “What’s your name?”

“ Nicaea Ducas”

“Strange name” she said.

“Yeah, it was supposed to be funny”, he replied.

She smiled again and then rose up to retired to her tent. He stood up as well.

“Goodnight Nicaea. You shouldn’t need to travel back to town at this hour, ask my staff and they shall arrange a place for you to sleep”

“Thank you your highness and good night to you” he said.

He could hardly sleep that night; the moon month had lost twenty of its days and could hardly light the night through the roaming clouds that travelled through the night. He didn’t want to think about Thaleia so he started thinking about the princess; and her letter. The night finally landed onto his eyes and he fell asleep.

Next morning he woke up with the sun and was about to head out toward the town when one of princess’s staff brought a message that the princess had sent for him. He was surprised that the princess was up this early.

As he received permission to enter the royal tent, he stepped inside. The princess sat in her chair, dressed in a serene shade of green.

“You send for me your highness” the jester stood at the door.

“Yes. I have a proposition for you” the princess said without looking at him.

“I am all ears your highness” he said.

“Accompany me to Greece” she looked him with a slight tilt of her head, a sine in her eyes, a smile on her lips and utmost confidence in her voice, “as my royal jester”.

He smiled a big smile and politely said, “I believe you have a very short memory your highness, I am not much of an entertainer”.

“I am not convinced of that yet” she said, “prove me wrong, prove me right, either way, I command you to travel with me and entertain me”.

“Your wish my command” he had a feeling there wasn’t much of a point to continue arguing over a decision already made.

As the journey began, the jester, in his head, started roaming through his old tricks and comic skits. All he remembered were scenes and dialogues from the classic tragedies he had been playing lately. The comic skits he used to perform as a jester, all seemed lame. Still, he tried.

The princess herself had some tricks up her sleeves; so it wasn’t as difficult as he had earlier imagined. She hardly ever laughed at his jokes; and whenever she laughed, he couldn’t tell whether it was on the quality of his joke or the lameness of it.

The journey to Greece lasted for nine days and during that time, the jester found a different person in princess than what he had imagined. For one, she worried a lot; were they travelling fast enough, had the horses had enough rest, was there enough food, was the cabin cleaned or not; she would obsess about everything. It was a relief for the jester; since half the time he didn’t have to try to be funny, he just had to listen and console and more importantly, agree.

“Why do you worry a lot?” he asked her one day while strolling along the hillside as the escort had stationed itself for the night.

“I don’t worry” she said firmly.

“Well, you obsess about things” he adjusted his statement.

“I care about things, there is a difference, you won’t understand” she said with a mischievous smile.

“Oh please, I can tell the difference between caring and obsessing” he said with a frank choice of words.

“So you are using this opportunity of travelling with me to pass judgement on me?” she asked with that tilt of head and a smile.

“No. But admit it, your ride wouldn’t have been fun with this boring escort of yours” he said, hoping to hear an agreement.

“Oh, so that’s what you think? I believe it’s the other way around” she said, “you were all lost, now at least you are going somewhere; learning things on the way”.

“I don’t think so. I am the one offering good company here” he said knowing that a retort was coming his way.

“Do you want me to leave you here? Because rest assured I will and will bid you the longest and slowest possible farewell while going uphill”.

“No you won’t. You can’t. I am the only interesting thing happening in your journey right now …”

“Blah blah blah …” the princess brisk walked away.

He smiled and walked after her.

Nine days had passed very quickly and they had reached at the palace of Prince Lucius Psellus . At the Gates, the jester got off the wagon to leave. The princess followed him out.

The jester stood in front of the princess and stared right into her eyes; a smile still on his face. The princess looked back with a hint of smile.

“It’s been a pleasure” the jester said.

“I know, I am a joy” the princess said.

He laughed, “You are”.

The jester leaned forward a little, still staring into her eyes. The princess realized what the jester was going to do.

Her smile fainted and a sober look appeared on her face. “Don’t look for another tragedy” she said in a tone which was nothing but a loud whisper.

The jester stopped; his smile vanished and then reappeared again. He took the princess’s hand in her hand and kissed her cylinder fingers. They exchanged a smile and the jester turned around and left.

As he walked down the road; he realized, he had long lost Thaleia’s letter.

Tara walked away from the window towards her vanity table and sat on her small cushioned stool. She glanced at herself in the mirror scrutinizing for tiniest flaws on her face. But she could not find any; she was as perfect as ever. Tara was the envy of every young maiden in the town and the desire for many eligible bachelors in her town and farther away. She had a porcelain complexion that never faded or aged, delicate bone structure that seemed to define further with time. The most captivating feature on her face was her eyes, a pool of fresh mint leaves, anyone who gazed into them were truly mesmerized. There was a rumour around, that her eyes had magic that had an ability to cast a spell on anyone. She sighed and picked up her hairbrush and ran it through her long white blond hair that cascaded down her back. Anyone who saw her would take her as a young aristocratic woman who has all luxuries of life at her feet. How appearances can be deceived, she spoke to the mirror. She put down her brush near the arrays of bottles and walked to her bed. She noticed an embracing figure expressing their love under the elm tree, she moved closer to the window to look. The man took out what looked like a ring from his pockets, went down on his knees and said something. The young woman wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and extended her gloved hands to wear his ring. And they will live happily ever after, Tara sniffed in the air.

Tara fell onto her bed and cried, tears poured out happily from her eyes. Her heart heavily embedded with sorrow and darkness. She felt her life slowly sinking without any meaning or purpose. On the front, she was like any other normal woman with dreams in her eyes, love and hope in her heart and great expectations from her life but deep within she carried a hollow secret that threatened to poison her being. A deadly curse, she could not share with any one but swallow it until it swallowed her.

Tara could not ever experience eternal love and lasting happiness, any man who proposed lifetime commitment to her would end up in her death. Those words of love would cause her to die in the arms of that man. The curse was so sinister that it cast an irreversible spell. The curse made her more captivating and beautiful that made heartbeats of many men thumper, yet she could never feel its passion. Tara never allowed herself to fall in love with any man nor could encourage them to the point where there was no turning back; she always maintained a cold distance with the men seeking her attention. People whispered about her attitude and single status despite the attention she received but Tara turned her ears upon them. She had accepted her life in solitude and loneliness.

Tara wiped out her tears as done many times before and got up from her bed. Dressed in pale peach gown, she picked up her ever-ready parasol and went for a walk near the stream.

She looked up the sky to feel the heat of the sun; she walked slowly along the trail of the banks plucking the blades of the grasses randomly, the sunlight beaming through the branches and birds chirping happily into the surroundings. She smiled in spite of herself, the serenity made her entirely emotional. She sat on a rock nearby and allowed the weight of her thoughts to soothe. She glanced around to the source of the chattering and peals of laughter echoing around her, couples of fair-head children were engrossed in their excursion. She smiled wistfully and stared at the whirlpool of ripples in the water aimlessly. How I wish to live a normal life.

Her thoughts glided back to that day when she faced the harsh reality of her fate. An innocent trip to the fortuneteller at the local carnival changed her entire course of life. The gypsy, crackled to her in a hollow voice that deadly spells was looming over Tara that was conceived by a very evil relative of hers. The sinister jealously was to surface over her in form of this curse. Any man who desires lifetime commitment with her would end up causing her death. She was doomed for eternity.

She was so deeply disturbed in her thoughts that she had not realized a figure standing behind her.

‘Good day, mam,’ the gentleman tipped his hat in gesture. Tara raised her eyes towards the tall man standing beside her and strained her eyes against the sun. She blinked cautiously at the defining presence of this man, dressed in an army’s attire.

‘Apologies for giving you a fright, but may I sit here?’ he pulled off his hat and smiled.

Tara did not offer any consent but did not remove her eyes off him either. He was certainly tall, with dark smooth hair and dark eyes, his nose and chin well defined as his presence. She lowered her eyes and slowly stood up, but almost losing her balance. The man quickly caught her hand to prevent her from falling and the sudden contact of manly skin caused friction against her skin. She pulled her hands away hastily and walked away without a word.

The man watched her in wonder; she was as pretty as picture whilst she sat on the rock and on an impulse, he went to her without realizing what her reaction would be. An action he was regretting it now, he had scared her off even before a conversation could take place.

Tara walked back to her house silently, deep in thoughts. The man’s strong image kept disturbing her all the way and couldn’t help wondering who he was who triggered such a reaction from her. She wondered if she would ever see him again. And she did, the next day at the town square. Dressed as elegantly as ever; she paraded around the fair on her own as always. Every pair of eyes locked at her bewitchingly. Blocking herself under the parasol, she raised her lashes towards the clear sky basking in the afternoon glow.

‘Ahh, so we meet again’, the very deep voice sparkled from behind her.

Tara staggered clumsily in response; her heart was thumping at a clinical rate and the warmth of the air around her was slowly creeping around her cheeks.

The man noticed her uneasiness and quickly replied, ’I apologise for yesterday; I had not meant to scare you away. I apologise once again.’ He smiled hoping that would ease her nerves.

Tara tried not to feel the effect his smile had on her; instead she asked the first thing that came into her mind’, Are you a sergeant?’

He looked at her questioningly for a second, and then looked down at his crisp, bright uniform he was wearing and grinned,’ yes, indeed I am. On top of the order and the very best as a matter-of-fact.’ He added in proudly.

She laughed in spite of herself. Her laugh lingered on his senses causing him to stare into her eyes. Tara couldn’t help but stare back, profound silence deepening around them, until he cleared his throat,’ we have not introduced ourselves formally. My name is Sergeant Edward Cunningham’. He tipped his hat in gesture.

‘I am Tara De Bough’. She smiled.

‘Shall we take a walk?’ Edward suggested hoping she would agree. In answer, Tara raised her parasol and nodded.

They had a leisurely walk around the town fair that was progressing heartily. The weather drew in many crowds to enjoy the merrymaking. As the conversation progressed, the self-conscious Tara eased down. She enjoyed the confident presence of this man who strolled alongside her with poise and dignity. She peered at him through her lashes wondering where all this would head. He caught her expression and raised his eyebrows questioningly. She shook her head and continued to walk gracefully. Edward, on the other hand looked at her in confusion. All along the conversation, it was he doing the talking and noticed certain aloofness around Tara. Despite of being with him her mind seemed to be elsewhere and yet he caught her staring at him wistfully. He was quite puzzled by her attitude. But there was something magnetic about her that he could not define, instead felt himself being pulled by her cold charms. They walked further until it was time to depart.

Tara couldn’t remember the last time she actually enjoyed being with a man without her senses cautioning her. Edward had been charming and chivalrous nothing like those men who were just attracted to her outer beauty, without giving much thought about what Tara felt. A tiny hope of meeting Edward again ignited her heart drums. For the first time she went off to sleep with a tiny smile on her lips rather than swollen teary eyes.

Their meetings became quite frequent. Edward comfortably shared everything about his life, the regiment, and his childhood with Tara but she never spoke about her inner secrets. Edward realized a certain hesitation but never probed further respecting her feelings. Tara dared not speak anything about her curse for she wanted Edward, be with him, to love him, to feel him, to touch him…The more she was with him, the more she grew restless, her heart burned with intensity. He was so very near to her yet he was eternally apart. This new sensation frightened Tara for she did not want to die. She did not want to hurt Edward even though either way he would be shattered. Tara would stare at him silently holding back her tears and swallowing her heartburn. Edward loved her and wanted to share his entire life with her but whenever he tried to get closer to Tara; she would look at him with solemn expression and walk away silently.

‘Tara, since the time we have met you’ve kept your guard on, acted indifference to whatever has been going on between us, why?’ Edward spoke. He wished to know what was troubling Tara.

‘Whatever do you mean?’ Tara knew what he meant but pretended to be surprised.

‘You very well know what I mean, stop this pretense’, Edward was on the verge of losing his temper.

‘Edward…I’, Tara started but could not carry on. Her nerves threatened to wipe her senses.

She couldn’t bring herself to speak and shook her head, ‘never mind…’

She glanced at him quietly and turned to walk away once again. But he caught her arms before she could slip away.’ Tara…don’t….’ he warned her.

‘Edward, please….’ she pleaded. Her pleas did not depict any signs of understanding from him.

She sighed,’ you may not understand, it is very complicated.’

‘Tara, I want to know what your problem is. Why do you drift yourself away from me whenever I try to come closer to you?’

Tara’s lower lips trembled, she could not control herself and burst into tears, ’Oh Edward, I love you very much but I can’t love you and I don’t want you to get hurt which you will eventually anyways.’

‘You do not make any sense at all. If you love me then why would I get hurt and why can’t you love me in spite of you loving me?’ Edward was trying to decipher what she was saying.

‘It’s the curse…a curse that has been cased on me, a bloody curse that will take my life if any man proposes his undying love to me. That’s why I have been behaving coldly towards you. I do not want to die and lose you; I cannot bear to see you hurt.’ Tara sobbed hysterically.

For several seconds Edward stared at her without blinking, ‘Tara that is utter nonsense I have ever heard in my life. If you do not care about me just say it rather than snubbing me off in this way’

Tara frowned at him, chocking on her tears, ‘I told you; you would not understand but believe me I do not want to hurt you. This has silently been killing me’. She sobbed quietly.

Edward sighed, ‘Tara, I love you and that’s all I know or can think of….’

Tara looked up at him, frozen still. She raised her hands to her throat to sooth back the choke.

‘I want to share my sorrows, my happiness, my life everything with you….’

She raised the other hand to hold on to her heart, a burning sensation passing through.

‘I want to wake up every morning, feel the morning dew and the golden rays of the sunshine right beside you…’

She clutched her heart to control the sharp pain that shot right at the core of the heart. She felt as if a glazing splinter had been stabbed mercilessly into her heart over and over again.

‘I want to share my every fireplace moments with you, I want to grow old with you Tara…’

Tara held her throat trying to free herself from the shadows of death piercing in front of her eyes.

‘Tara… Tara…? Are you all right? Tara, look at me!’ Edward panicked when he saw Tara. He took her in his arms to hold her.

Her face went all blue and cold. She was grasping for air. She stared at him in horror unable to bring herself to say something.

‘Oh Lord, Tara, say something, please, what is happening to you?’ he cried helplessly, not knowing what to do but just stare at her. He suddenly realized what Tara had told him a while ago and looked at her alarmingly. She was saying the truth. His very word of love was going to take away the life that he wanted to be with. He would be the cause of her death.

‘Edward….’ Tara choked, ‘I …I’m sorry…’ Lifeless colour creeping onto her face that proved the existence of the curse, the authority it had over her. Its cynical wings were finally going to claim Tara.

‘Nooooooo, Tara do not leave me,’ he cried pleadingly. ‘TARA…TARA!!’

Tara smiled faintly and touched his face, ‘I do….’ Final shot of pain sprouted out of her mouth and pulled her soul into darkness. Her body lay limped into his arms.

At this hour only one or two autorickshaws can be heard in the distance. All other traffic is still sleeping, waiting for the crack of dawn to start buzzing like a bee or a young lover desperate to suck the nectar before it falls prey to some other, before fading in the summer heat, amidst cows, stray dogs, hawkers, beggars, road-side Romeos, shoppers, buses, trucks, cars, more rickshaws and anything and everything that can stir and crawl.

It is at this hour that she stands with her back against the about two and a half feet high balcony handrail. To say that her back was resting against the banister would make no sense, since she was far from it, even though she was touching it. Though, she might have felt at peace having made up her mind on how to escape.

She pushes herself up to sit on the still-wet railing, not even wondering if she would fall in the process. If it would all end before it all began.

Droplets of fear race down to her swollen lips which she licks without blinking hoping they would quench her thirst. This was not the time to give in to the urge, run to sip that last sip. Let fear cripple, society hold back, and love to vanish. They had given some, taken some, and now was the time to exchange some more. It was to be now or never.

He had said, “I love you.” They had said, “Never.”

Having got this far, she does not look down, her mind does not waver, even though her body quivers. Chickening out, pulling back, giving up, running away had never been her style. Instead, she lowers herself down holding on to the vertical balcony rails. By now she’s dangling. In spite of herself, she wants to cry out for help, but does not. She does not want to wake anyone up. Already her arms have begun to ache. She tries to pull herself up, but cannot. By now she’s convinced that climbing back up would be impossible, besides even if her parents did show up, they wouldn’t be able to help her up. Any attempt to do so would result in the inevitable. So she lets go first of her right hand and then her left hand.

Before time could travel, she had done so and landed on her back in the lap of mother earth, to whom it did not matter if is she had worshipped Lord Shiva or fasted during Ramadan.

Her name was Pooja Ramnani and she was eighteen when she decided to escape.

She had not stepped out of her room the night before to have dinner or to apologize to them. Instead she lay curled in a tight ball, in her bed, crying until she had no more tears left, biting her tender lips until she had tasted blood.

She had heard their muffled sounds, whispering about a couple of matrimonial prospects the matchmaker had told them. Her father, Ishwar, had wondered if she had been hungry since he was having his dinner and wanted her to join him.

“I think she’s asleep,” her mother, Parvati, had said.

“How could he have done that?” She had thought. Humiliate her in college, in front of them all. What was worse that even her mother had not helped her. And this was after she had grown up hearing over and over her mother say,

“We are all one. God is one. Hindus and Muslims are alike. We are all human beings, made from the same clay; must learn to love and understand. Here, dear Khala, take some flowers for me to the Darga; say a prayer for our good health and so that Pooja may find a good boy.”

Understandably Pooja had not wanted to speak with either of them that evening or later that night. But she knew that she could not tell them this. If they had found out that she was awake she would have to talk to them, because that’s how it was. Parents were to be respected. If they wanted to speak with you, you couldn’t say,

“Later, not up to being with you folks right now, or, leave me alone; this is my life.”

What could she do, but pretend to have fallen asleep, while all along hearing random words like “suitable boy, Muslim, Hindu, shame, name, game, dowry, marriage within a few days, or else too late.”

A couple of hours later when Ishwar had stood at his youngest child Pooja’s bedroom entrance he had not switched the light on, since there had been enough coming in from the kitchen and the sitting room to see if she was still sleeping. They had suspected about him, all along. But what in the God’s name could they have done? They could not allow it. They had left their home in Karachi to run away from people like him. And now, how they now allow her to marry him? What would the people say? He must be using her they had thought, like they all do in movies.

But now that he had caught them red-handed, they had done something about it  taught her a lesson.

When Ishwar had seen that Pooja had not stirred even though he was in her room, he knew that this time she was really asleep. Before he quietly stepped out, he covered her with the bed sheet since it was a cool night.

As soon as Pooja had seen the kitchen light go off, she had thrown off the cover even though it had been a little cool. She had done this because she had not wanted to be tricked by the mistress of sleep. As she saw it, the only option she had was to climb down from her bedroom balcony. That way she could escape from her parents and marriage to a complete and absolute stranger.

A sensible option would have been to pretend to go along with the marriage. And then just as she and the chosen by the parents stranger, to whom she was to be handed over so that their name would not be completely tarnished, were about to make the sacred rounds around the fire, she could have untied the knot and walked away. Just like that.

But this had not occurred to her. This could have made it clear to the general public that this in fact had been a forced arranged marriage, one to which she had never consented.

She had ruled out setting herself on fire, because her intention had never been to hurt herself or destroy her parents home. She knew how hard her father had worked his entire life to provide for them.

The bottom line was that she wanted to escape, but without harming anyone, or financially ruining her family. So she had decided to stick with her balcony plan.

Having thought that if she could get herself down from her balcony, she would walk fast or even run down the dark, quite, narrow streets of her neighborhood to get to Mustafa’s apartment, which was no more than a couple of miles away. She had been aware that the possibility of her getting a fractured limb or two existed, but she was willing to bear the pain, as long as she could escape. With her new-found tolerance for pain, she would be able to make her way through to Mustafa’s.

By now he seemed to be her only hope. She had reasoned that if she walked close to the edges of the narrow street, where it was bound to be darker, perhaps no one would notice a pretty young girl out alone in the middle of the early hours of the morning. The planned time to escape was around three in the morning, because by that time there would be minimal traffic, and hence less people would notice her. Even the homeless would be asleep a little after three.

Having decided her route of escape, she had concentrated on details.

Boy: Hello.

Girl: Silence.

Boy: Hello (with a sharp voice).

Girl: Silence (thinking she may lose herself in his voice forgetting all about the rest of the world whirling around her).

Boy: Hello!! (This time a bit furious and feeling disturbed in the middle of the night due to the time difference between two continents).

Girl: Ends the call (with a heart beating more and more every passing time).

Looking back into past, calculating the balance of pain and happiness he gave her till now…pain gets heavier. Is she able to see this fact? Love is blinding her eyes right now. She feels the bitter taste of experience in her but at the same time she knows she can forget everything else that happened to her till now because he is the best thing in her life (or she believes in fairy tales).

Phone rings (again).

Boy: Hello.

Girl: Hi, it’s me.

Boy: Hey.

Girl: Sorry, it was me last time calling you by mistake; my cell was in my pocket and…(before she completes her sentence…)

Boy: it is ok.

Girl: hmm ok. Take care then. Bye.

Boy: Yea, bye.

Now she feels ashamed of herself as she lied to him and also let him lie to herself for so long. What he has till now, what he feels, what he expresses, or what he tries to render till now was not love! No matter how much she wants it to be so!

With a sudden rush in her blood flow due to anger of all those years, and feeling like challenging a liar against her true love,

Phone rings (once more).

Boy: Yea.

Girl: It’s me again.

Boy: Hmm.

Girl: I lied to you. I missed you; I wanted to hear your voice; that’s why I called you.

Boy: Smiles. (may be feeling pampered without knowing that these simple but honest words win the battle). You can call me any time (he continues).

Girl: But you sound as if you don’t want to talk to me (she is braver with her words now).

Boy: There is nothing like that, why do you always think negative? Nothing like that. You can call me any time you want.

Girl: Silence. (Thinks for a second…”I WANT, WHAT ABOUT YOU?”…She doesn’t express herself this time because she comes to know the person across the line is not the same person she fell for 3 years ago).

Boy: So what’s up, how are you?

Girl: I am under tension.

Boy: Why, What happened?

Girl: Silence. (What happened? She tries to be calm, consoles herself… don’t bother, don’t worry, don’t cry).

Boy: Why? (Asks again).

Girl: Because of you. I cannot forget you. (She brandishes her sword once more against him in this war of love).

Boy: Silence for a moment and comes the killing sentence. I don’t know what to say!

She can hardly say “ok”….trying to hide her tears but her cracked voice let him get that idea.

Boy: Please don’t cry.

Girl: Ok, I’ll call you later (she lies as she will never call him back again).

Boy: Ok, bye. (He doesn’t try to stop the girl to bury herself under agony as he always chooses to run away when the true emotions come to surface).

With a mixture of all kind of feelings stirring inside, and seeing her past with him like a film strip, she turns her face across the cold blowing wind to regain her conscious and to come to her senses. While he was previously loading her with his excessive amount of love, what changed now? She knows she will never be able to find the answer. She whispers to herself tasting the salty tear on her lower lip “Sometimes conditions take you to wherever you are now and this is called life”.

She looks at the phone screen for the last time.

Call ended!

‘We shall be taking off from Dubai International Airport in the next 10 minutes and reach Heathrow Airport in an estimated 7 hours. Enjoy your flight.’ She ended in a chirpy tone.

Goodbye vacation, Cherie sighed inwardly and reached for her seat belt to fasten it. It was 2.45am. She already longed for the exotic shores of Arabian Peninsula, to feel the heat of the golden sun and sand. She never assumed she would actually enjoy her 2 weeks stay in Dubai.

She glanced at the empty seat next to her and wondered who shall be her partner this time.

Just that minute, a tall well built man towered above the seat next to hers confirming the seat no.

He shoved his handbag inside the passenger cabinet above and plopped onto the seat next to Cherie’s. He unlocked the mini table in front of him, switched on his laptop and disappeared into his work without a glance towards his partner.
Oh well so much for the niceties, she thought. The strong spicy scent that wore around him almost intoxicated her nerves. She stretched out in her seat and diverted her eyes to the images outside her window. The runaway was glowing with neon lights, stretching its brightness to the sky. She always experienced nervousness when the plane was on the brink off a take-off or landing. As the plane moved slowly, she felt her nerves reacting immediately. She closed her eyes and reached for the arms of the seat to support her. Her heart pounding harder as she felt the plane adjust its position in the air. She opened her eyes slowly to look out of the window and all she could see was a dim orange reflection of the plane inside.

‘Err…Excuse Me’, she heard a deep voice sloughing through her nervousness.
She turned her head to see herself staring into a pair of dark eyes, eyes the colour of mocha. She looked at the man next to her lost for words.

‘As….’ He cleared his throat, ‘As much as I would like to consider myself irresistible to the opposite gender, I wonder if your grabbing my arm had anything to do my charms’, he gestured to her hands on his arm, a devilish smile, appearing around the corners of his mouth.

She immediately removed her hand, her face burning with embarrassment. She felt a flush of heat race through her, ‘Uh..I..I’m sorry’ she managed to whisper.
‘Fear of flying, eh?’ he raised his eyebrows, ‘I thought so’, he chuckled at her nod.
To pretend as if it was nothing, she fidgeted through her handbag for a novel. Anything to do that would dilute the effects of this moment. She pretended to divulge in her reading, hoping to wear her eyes out into slumber to soothe her embarrassment. After a futile struggle, she dared to sneak a glance at her neighbor who was deeply engrossed in whatever glowed on the screen.

He has a nice profile, she thought. He had short dark hair, similar to his eye colour. His nose straight and aristocratic, rooming a pair of glasses. A well sculpted masculine jaw, lined under tiny stubble and an extremely sexy mouth that carried the deep smooth voice threatening to melt any senses. She noticed a deep scar lining on his neck and wondered how far down it went as it was hidden by the collar of his shirt. She realized that she was still staring at him, or rather at his scar when he turned his head towards her and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

She mumbled an apology and went back to her pretense of reading, why can’t I just go to sleep?!

He gazed at her intently. She has a nice profile, he echoed the same thought. When she had suddenly grabbed his arm, he had felt a sudden jolt of electric current shoot right up to his arm. That had certainly taken him up by surprise, since he had least bothered to notice who was sitting next to him. He had turned to see her, her eyes shut nervously. A lock of fair hair teased her cheek, restricting his view of her face. A perverse thought of actually lifting her hair to see her face knocked his mind! When he spoke to her, he found himself staring into a pair of very aquatic eyes. Lost for words for a moment there, he quickly regained his composure. He probed further when she continued staring at him but was rewarded with another apology.

He tried to focus his attention back to what he was working on. But after tapping aimlessly on his keyboard he snapped off the laptop, took off his glasses and turned to her, ‘You know since we are flight partners and it is a long flight back, we might as well introduce ourselves. I am Michael Stanford.’ He extended his hand for a shake.

Cherie smiled hesitantly and shook his hand, ‘I’m Cherie Wainthropp.’
The moment their hands shook, they both felt it. The same jolt of current he felt earlier. They both stared at each other in surprise, Cherie withdraw her hand abruptly. He gave a slow nervous laugh.

Their discomfort was interrupted by the flight attendant offering the routine rounds of refreshments, which was highly appreciated.

After a prolonged silence, they mumbled an apology in unison. A few more fumbling of words and the tension between them eased out ultimately.

‘So what bought you to Dubai?’ he prodded hoping to get to know her further.
‘A vacation, I was here to visit my parents who live in Dubai’, she replied taking a sip of her soda.

‘You live alone here in London then?’ he asked rather surprised, noting her ring less finger. He wondered why an attractive woman like her was still single.

‘Yes,’ she heard a note of surprised in his voice. ‘Why does that surprise you?’
‘No reason at all, just asking.’ He shrugged it off.

‘Well my parents shifted to Dubai couple of years back, I wasn’t keen on re-locating and starting all over so I refused. Besides I had just gotten my fine arts degree and an offer to display my works on regular basis at an art gallery in London, so all the more reasons to stay back.’ She explained.

‘So what about you, what made you come half way across the globe’, she smiled settling the question on him.

’Well unlike yours, mine was an official excursion. I came here to sign a deal for my software company. Now that it’s sealed, I can finally drink to success.’ He raised his glass to hers in gesture of a toast. ‘Care to join me?’

Cherie couldn’t help smiling and raised her glass in return,’ To success.’

‘And….to new acquaintances,’ Michael added with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. To that Cherie’s broke into laughter.

The next few hours of the journey flew smoothly. Their acquaintance paced a step forward, the physical attraction that sparkled earlier continued to glow with intensity. Their conversation glimmered with silent whispers of humor and seriousness, balanced equally. They were so engrossed with each other that they seemed unperturbed and oblivious to the passengers around them. Sleep finally conquered Cherie while she was in the middle of discussing the basic elements of arts that are now replaced with modern technology.

When she returned to the living world, she realized she had dozed off on Michael’s shoulder. To her relief she noticed Michael asleep and unaware of her actions. She couldn’t bring herself to stop staring at him. Her heart beat accelerating a step faster. She fingered the deep scar on his neck ever so gently and removed it quickly when he stirred slightly. Though he never mentioned the story behind his scar, she couldn’t help wondering.

With a sigh she turned to look out of the window. The sky was now a spread out of grayish white cotton sprinkled with layers of bright golden rays. She peered closely out of the window to see first sign of dawn winking at her. The clouds glided swiftly alongside the plane brushing itself on the exteriors. She gazed at heavens dreamily and smiled, I think I’m falling for Michael.

Michael woke up to find Cherie staring out of the window, far away in thoughts. The hidden rays of the sun glistened on her golden hair. Her skin smooth and glowing despite of the long journey. She was curvaceous but on a smaller side, he decided. But what he loved most about her were her eyes, whenever he stared into them he felt himself drowning hypnotically. Damn! He realized, I’m falling for Cherie. He analyzed the odds of developing feelings for someone you just met, on a plane, beyond the real world. But, he decided, I definitely want to see her again and see what these feelings mould into.

The rest of the journey was a mixed bag of emotions for both Cherie and Michael. Neither talking much but could feel each other’s presence. The feeling was like a pulse igniting slowly, enveloping them in a warm cocoon of love. The same thoughts penetrated through their minds, a tiny expectation building into their hearts to follow this trail of new developments to where it leads.

Just then a voice announced their landing schedule interrupting their thoughts. The shuffling on the seats and the clicking of the seat belts bought them back to reality. Though she would prefer the comfort of her apartment, Cherie found herself well-settled in the plane. The idea of leaving this haven suddenly seemed alien to her. Must be the lack of oxygen getting to me, she shook her head to discard the silly thought. But she already knew the reason for feeling this way. Michael.
Cherie’s nerves threatened to waver off as soon as the plane was on a brink of landing. But this time, Michael spotted the tense on her face and reached for her hand. Cherie looked at him in surprise but he only smiled in return. This was just the beginning.

The aftermath of the higher altitude suddenly gripped her body. As soon as she put her feet on the ground she felt everything spin around her. She somehow managed to control herself and completed the regular airport formalities. She made her way to the baggage claim counter to collect her luggage along with Michael.

On reaching the airport exit door they both stood still, not attempting to depart. The airport was bustling with people arriving and departing but neither wanted to say goodbye to each other yet and let this momentum pass away. This journey had kindled unexpected emotions that promised to spread out its wings and explore. They stared at each other for a long time, each wanting to say something but unable to speak the words aloud. Michael finally broke into the unspoken words.
‘So this is it?’ he said looking around him.

‘Hmm…, oh yes. This is it’, Cherie answered absently.
‘Cherie…..’
‘Michael…’
They both spoke in unison and stopped, waiting for the other to continue until Michael spoke once again.

‘Cherie, I……, he took a deep breath, ‘I know this may sound a little absurd considering the situation but I think I’m attracted to you and…….and I would love to meet you again. If it’s alright with you of course? He looked at her expectantly.
Cherie looked at him, eyes wide and shocked. She smiled and nodded an approval.
‘It’s a date then,’ he confirmed. He bent his head towards her to plant a slow feathery kiss onto her lips and lingered there for a moment before raising his head.
He pulled out his business card and jolted down his private numbers, ‘Call me sometime soon.’

Michael picked up his luggage and walked towards the permanent parking area. He turned and waved at Cherie. Call me, he signaled once again and disappeared into the crowd.

Cherie’s heart pulsated at a different beat and a sudden flush of heat passed through her body. She stared at the business card he had given her. Oh yes, I will definitely meet him again. On that note she picked up her luggage and walked into the crowd smiling her heart out.

After having lumbered through the streets while the night fell softly from the sky, he rested on a rude patch of the sidewalk. An aged lamppost glared at him with its quivering pale light; adding extra melancholy to his already burdened day. Words had run out; and whatever voice was left to his thoughts came out bitter and wild.

A meaningful relationship should be able to maintain itself; he always thought, and as time crawled on his wrist, this idea sunk in so much that he let it all happen on its free will. His lack of effort in maintaining all the human links in his life led to many rotten moments create pages of unsettled conversations.

As he sat there drenched in broken pieces of light, he noticed a crack on the concrete, a small and otherwise unnoticeable split line that started from this end of the road stretching across to the other end. That road was actually split into two. As his eyes followed the crack, his mind wandered into comparisons; every road that took him to another human was fractured with a subtle crack, invisible to a roaming eye, caused by some words polluted with anger or disapproval.

The lamppost, all of a sudden, fell asleep and its grim light was replaced by rays wrapped in haze and some left over pieces of night. It was time.

He walked into his house to get ready for work; his younger brother came out of the shower and ran across him outside his room. The dirt from a stormy argument long ago was still floating between them. His brother looked at him, said an automated hello and started walking towards his room. He walked after him and knocked at the door.

“Hey brother, what’s happening?”

“Nothing much, the usual.”

“Ahan …. So I hear you are buying a motorbike?”

“Yeah, planning.”

“What’s there to plan, just go and buy it.”

“I am still short on some money.”

“How much?”

“Why? … Are you trying to buy something here?”

“No, I am not trying to buy anything here, just trying to help.”

“You could’ve done that long time back.”

“I know … But I didn’t. … And I don’t want to feel the same about this; this is now and I want to help.”

“Why?”

“Because you are my brother.”

“I always was; and I always will be. Then why now?”

“I am trying to understand now.”

He had never learnt to value having a brother, it was a default relationship; he never thought he would have to put in an effort to keep it.

“You don’t have to buy me anything to understand.” His brother walked towards him and hugged him, “you are my brother.”

He wrapped his arms around him and for the first time, hugged him. Something fell off his shoulders, off his mind; he felt a hint of lightness on his soul. A smile crawled onto his face.

As he walked away to get out of the room, his brother said with a mischievous smile, “But I wouldn’t mind a cheque for thirty thousand you know.”

He turned back with a smile, “You son of a …” He signed him a cheque and walked out.

He always avoided running across his manager unless it was utmost imperative. That morning, as soon as he reached his office, he knocked at his manager’s office.

“So you want to argue a little more over that report?” his manager naturally couldn’t get over his blunt disapproval of the last exhibition report.

“No, I just … wanted to say good morning.”

“And you are not going to say anything about that report?”

“No, I will. I still think the report is insufficient and lacks objectivity.”

“Look, my not having the authority to transfer or even fire you does not mean that you supersede me or directly defy my actions; I am your manager.”

“I know. I am not trying to do any of that; however, my stance on that report still is the same. But I think it would be unfair of me to question the report without offering an alternative, so I am going to submit in my report and it will then be up to you to decide which one is accurate.”

“Makes sense. I think it’s a good idea. Someone woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.”

“I didn’t wake up at all. I’ll send in my report tomorrow.”

“Great. And … good morning.”

“Good morning to you too.”

Walking out of his manager’s office had never been that pleasant. He felt another pebble of a load on his feet as he was walking out of the office. He walked towards the cubicles and reached his assistant’s desk.

“Hey, I know it was last week but good work on the exhibition, you did well; I appreciate all that.” The pebble fell off.

He entered his room and fell on the chair, throwing his glasses onto the table; a thought spun around his heavy head as he stared at his glasses. He rushed out of his office.

He entered his grandfather’s room as he sat there in his comfort chair bedside the window trying to read the newspaper.

“Hi grandpa.”

“Hey son. Hi. … Aaa … You are here … No office today?”

“I just took a day off … So what’s the news today?”

“Nothing special … same old same old, everyday.”

“Yeah. Hey you had an appointment with the doctor for your eyesight, right?”

“Yeah it was. But never mind; I didn’t have time, and I can read better all right.”

“I think … lets go to a doc, lets get your eyesight checked. What do you say?”

“You mean … you? … You have time?”

“Oh yeah … plenty of it. You want to get ready?”

“Oh no, I am all ready, we can go now.”

Even he didn’t know how long it had been since he spent more than five minutes with the old man, not that he ever complained or anything but there still was plenty of space but no time spent between them.

After the doctor’s, they went to grab an early lunch at a fancy restaurant. The old man, trying to seize the moment, fetched out every interesting glint of an event from his life and spread it on the table between them. The old man made him laugh; he took him along to his days.

“You better save some stories for tonight, grandpa” he said while dropping him off back home.

The old man smiled and walked in with a healthier walk than the usual.

As he was taking his car out, he saw his mother sitting in the lawn, clipping the dead leaves off the plants. He saw a small but completely black cloud hanging over her head preventing a part of sunshine from entering her eyes. There was one word still between him and her that added an unseen unspoken distance everyday.

He stepped out of the car and walked towards her.

“Hi mom.”

“My son” she said with a life sized smile in her eyes and kissed him on his cheeks.

“The plants seem fine mom” he said with a playful smile on his face.

“You can’t always tell from the surface my dear”

“You are right. We can’t. … Mom?”

“Yes my son”

“I said no because of reasons you know”

“We all have our reasons”

“Yes, but I never told you mine, I just said no.”

“We have our ways too”

“Yeah. … I said no because it was too sudden and there were so many things unknown. The girl you chose for me must be great, but I don’t know her. I couldn’t give you an answer right there right then, but they wanted an answer, and the only answer appropriate for something so strange, so nameless, was no. I didn’t say no to you, or your choice or your intentions; I said no to something I didn’t feel comfortable with, I said no to the urgency, to the lack of time and understanding. I didn’t even say no to her, but to the way it was all being done. Just … give me time. If there is anyone I would let make decision for me, it would be no one but you; but include me, let there be time to find out, to know, to like, to decide.”

His mother kept staring at him with a smile and shine of tears in her eyes, “my son has grown up” she hugged him and kissed him.

“I love you mom”

“I know son.”

As he walked towards his car, he looked back at her; the cloud was gone, there was sunshine smiling on her.

He parked his car and walked into his favorite coffee shop; he visited it everyday but two days back when he walked out of there he had promised himself never to come back.

He occupied his usual seat near the window and the mini waterfall and waited to be attended. A minute later a waiter approached him and asked what he would like to have. He looked at him with surprise; it was the first time when someone other than her would wait on him.

“Just give me a minute” he let the waiter go and walked towards the counter behind which she stood serving. He grabbed a stool and sat on it. He knew she had seen him but he was yet to be attended. After there was no customer left unnerved, she had to turn to him.

“What would you like to have sir?”

“And till a couple of days ago, I used to have a name.”

“I am sure you still do. What would you like to have?”

“A bit of attention.”

“You had it, more than your share.”

“I know. And I didn’t appreciate it; I wasn’t thoughtful. Something else determined my words that I spoke to you. What you do is noble; something I don’t have the courage to do; I can’t serve. You do. And I like you for that, I respect you for that.”

“Words come easy to you don’t they?”

“I wish they did, I wish they did … All right, here is the deal, come out of the bar, please.”

He requested her to come out and to sit on the stool where he sat. He walked in behind the counter, wrapped an apron around his waist and served her coffee. Her beautiful smile finally came back.

He sat in his car in the parking lot and dialed a number.

“Hey, its me”

Silence held its breath for a while and then finally a girl’s voice came from the other end of the phone, “hey”

“How are you?”

“I am good. You? … Why?”

“I don’t know. Its been two years.”

“Yeah, I know. I thought … Why did you do that?”

“What could I do? I couldn’t just let you go.”

“But I was still there, as a friend.”

“You think that was enough?”

“You think this was enough?”

“No.”

“I couldn’t find it in me to forgive you, you know that.”

“I know. That’s why I couldn’t call”

“At least you could’ve tried”

“I have now”

“What do you want now? Is it that easy?”

“No its not. I am not looking for an answer now. Whenever.”

“I don’t think we can be friends any more; I am married now.”

“Yeah, I know”

“ … but I am glad that you called”

“Yeah … I am glad I called too”

He hung up to a stale memory that was just stirred by a harsh moment in today. He sat there silently, rerunning the gone by days in his mind when another face with an old but familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. He switched on the engine, put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot.

His father’s personal assistant greeted him with surprise.

“Is he in there?”

“Yes he is, you can walk in. Its good to see you”

“Good to see you too”

He knocked softly and opened the door. His father sat in his office filtering through a pile of papers in front of him. He looked at him with surprise, affection, pain, remorse and joy in his eyes; his son had stepped in his office after years.

“Hey dad”

“Hey son. You surprised me”

“I am glad I did. How are you?”

“I am good. How is your day?”

“Not bad. Took a day off.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Coffee?”

“Nah, I am ok. Just came to say hello.”

“Great.”

“I’ll be leaving now.”

“All right”

He turned on his feet and opened the door to walk out when he heard his father’s old voice after a long time.

“Son!”

He turned around to see him.

“I am trying to be a good father.”

He looked at him, his hair all gone grey, his face gone soft and his eyes gone tired.

“You are a good father” he said with appreciation of a lifetime and walked out.

As he approached the main exit, he heard the personal assistant shouting in surprise, “you are taking a day off sir?’

He smiled and kept the door open as he walked out.

The evening was slipping through the barricade of the day; the sun was admitting defeat.

He parked his car and walked towards the city office blocks. It was just after six.

She walked out of the office building and saw him standing across the road; she turned left and started walking towards her car. He walked after her and reached her after a few steps. She stopped.

“Hi”

“Aah, so you can speak.”

“Yes I can.”

“Good to know” she started walking again.

“Please, wait, can we talk?”

“Of course, this is what we always did, except for the last few days when of course you couldn’t take all that talking anymore”

“Its not like that”

“Yeah? Then how is it?”

“I didn’t go silent because of you”

“Well that fixes it, doesn’t it?”

“I just didn’t expect it, I wasn’t prepared”

“How difficult was it, this was such a regular thing”

“I know, but with you everything is special, I don’t think of anything as regular”

“Then why did you do it? Why did you shut me out?”

“That was not the intention. But I did it because I was tired”

“Of what?”

“Of telling myself everyday, every time I would speak to you or see you that we are just friends, I have to tell myself all this, and keep it all there. It doesn’t come naturally; I have to deliberately do it. That day, for some reasons, I couldn’t. And I thought it would be fair to put in a little space for a while, to bring things back to what they were.”

“Things never changed in the first place.”

“I know. But it was … This is ridiculous; this shouldn’t be happening. I mean how many times do you want to undo things, to go back in time and erase it all, to find the pages where its all written and tear off that page, to go back to those moments and not relive them. But it doesn’t happen like that. This is how things are; this is how human beings live in a relationship, no matter what that relationship is; they make mistakes, they say things they don’t want to say or they don’t say things they should. A few moments, a few words, a few deeds do not make what we are; its how we meant it all that makes us. I didn’t mean it the way it was all delivered.”

“You think I’ll buy that?”

“I am not selling it to you. I am just telling.”

She went silent for a while as they stood on the side walk. Evening had opened the first door of the night. A lamppost woke up and coughed its pale light onto the concrete.

“What if it happens again?”

“I’ll bring more words to explain”

“But you’ll still do it?”

“No, that’s not what I meant”

“I know”

Tired and perplexed, she sat down on the footpath; he sat next to her.

She looked at him, in his eyes to find any grain of truth, and said, “Ok”

He took a deep breath and stared back at the road trying to find a crack. There were countless cracks on the road but he didn’t focus on them anymore. There was no burden of unspoken words on his days.

Silence froze between them for a while as they sat next to each other, caressing their shoulders; and then he said to her, “I can fly.”

After losing the glare offensive, the five soldiers of her hand started creeping towards me. These soldieries were not communists any more, if they were, they would have imprisoned me by now. I can feel the vibration, caused by her creeping hand, falling into my bones. Although her hand is yet to touch mine; the oscillation of that heart-soothing near-future has made my hand to frustratingly wont for a passionate hug of that slender-finger neighbor. I desire to alter the coldness of my hands with the coolness of hers and it is not impossible. There is no one else breathing in this little hut of a bus stop and our hearts are anxiously excited to listen to each other’s beats.

But far away, in the deep hollows of my past, there is another heart, which has imprisoned my intentions. That heart has lived in my chest for countless heartbeats and I can’t ignore it.

It is Mia’s heart. My wife’s heart.

Trembling winter. Lonely afternoon. Muddy clouds. Some melancholic rays peeping through those dusty cornflakes in the sky.

Death faced skyscrapers. A road polluted with clumsy vehicles. Countless worn-out faces rolling on the road. Silently breathing hearts. Eyes fed up with monotony. Venomous minds. Incarcerated souls and frail bodies carrying the burden of a forced freedom____ This is Moscow. 1988.

I was born here and grew up here, under the dark daylight of the red sun. This red sun was there for everyone, whether one needed it or not. It was everywhere, in your house, your bedroom, your entire life and even in your thoughts. It never set anyone free. So many juvenile faces, novel ideas and enthralling dreams were burnt to ashes in this sun. Nothing could evade the red sun, not even the night.

I was also a part of this system. Who am I? Well, my introduction remains in constant use of millions of people in this world; “I am a common man.” And along with all those millions of common men, I lived in this system where we labored our lives. Carrying the burden of a compulsive freedom on our shoulders, we were transferred from youth to old age, and from old age to demise. At numerous occasions death separated the youth from old age. Our minds, our thoughts had so unfeelingly become a part of all this. Days, dates, years, all meaningless. Our time scale was the amount of work done by us. How many shoes made, how many cartons packed, how many radios loaded, and how many abuses assimilated. We were all inebriated. The dream of change was buried in the grave of our stomachs. And yet, in such suppressive conditions, an eccentric thing happened; instead of my mind; my heart revolted. In this atmosphere of belligerence and hatred, my heart opted for tolerance… and love.

She was beautiful; and full of life. She was strenuously breathing in this suffocating air. She had a smile dancing on her lips that would make me smile. She had eyes where I could see my dreams. She had voice that would disquiet my heartbeat. But most of all, she had feet that were treading towards me. Heavenly romantic. She was eager to step into my life, I don’t know why. I had nothing to give to her.

An aged room stuck into countless other lifeless rooms of a rotten building. Staring monotony. Intoxicated silence. Deceased air. Resentful walls. A wounded window. A colorless curtain waging a lost war against the firing snowflakes. A screaming, yelling wall clock. A repulsive towel. A pile of deformed suite-cases. A withered umbrella hanging on the hook. A clumsy picture making faces at me. A paralyzed bed. A tired pair of shoes sneaking from underneath the bed. A shelf sheltering a sorrowful row of ancient crockery. A faint effort of the bulb to lit up the room. A solitary chair sentenced a life imprisonment in these walls____ Nothing.
However, I had learnt to love. She taught me how to. I could fill her with love; touching her eyes with mine, driving my fingers through her hair, whispering my laughter in her ears. She would spread her tiny little complains with her head on my shoulder. We would aimlessly talk while walking on a deserted road in a tranquil evening. I would sing her songs in my gauche voice and she would disperse her melodious laughter in the air. I had planned everything. And along with this, I had also saved enough money to fulfill many of her innocent wishes.

And then, on a glistening day, she stepped into my world and became my world. There were just eighteen guests participating in our wedding. Ten of them were my factory worker friends; six of Mia’s friends and two were our combined, uniformed best wishers. Yes, the KGB. We had no one to call ‘ours’ but these few. After a short and simple ceremony, our friends departed us joking and laughing, while the KGB guests bid us farewell staring and glaring. They wanted to see us off to our bedroom door, I am sure. But I was not bothered by anything any more. I had found Mia. She was full of life and she pervaded me with it.
I didn’t buy her a wedding gift. I couldn’t find anything as incredible as her. So I decided to ask her.

“Mia! I know you must be expecting a gift from me on our wedding night. I hate to disappoint you but the fact is that I couldn’t buy you a gift. Not because I didn’t have enough money or that I couldn’t remember but because I couldn’t find something as gorgeous as you are. Everything looked dull compared to you. So I thought I better ask you. I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“You’ll get me whatever I ask you to?”

“Yes” I whispered with certainty.

“No matter how expensive, how difficult?”

“Yes.”

“Then listen. You don’t get tired of me. This will be your gift.”

“What you mean?”

“I don’t know why am I thinking this, but you get tired of looking at me every day, or when I get old and would cease to be beautiful, would you leave me, and not even look at me?”

“No, it won’t happen. I’ll never get tired of looking at you every day. And when you get old, so would I. And you’ll always be beautiful in my eyes.”

“Promise?”

“Yes promise.”

At that moment, she looked to me like a little girl. In a stormy night, afraid of lightning and thunderbolt, hiding in a corner, scared and trembling little girl. I assured her there was nothing to be afraid of. Storms, lightning, darkness, nothing could hurt her.
“I am with you, all around you.”

She turned my room into a home. I suggested of buying a little house but she insisted on living in that room until two of us turn into three. And I agreed with her. In this little home of one room, we lived very close to each other, without any distance. You must be thinking how and for how long could two people living in such a small accommodation tolerate each other. Believe you me; Mia and monotony are the names of two firmly and utterly opposite things. Mia is simply astounding. Every day she would put such a thought in front of me that I would be bewildered. She would ask questions that would leave me speechless. She would make such childish requests that the entire building would resound with my laughter.

One night, she was sitting in the chair sewing a button on one of my shirts and I was lying sideways on the bed reading a book. When suddenly, she put the shirt on the chair and lied down behind me the same way as I was. Placing her face right beside mine, our cheeks caressing, she held the book from where I was holding it.

“What is this?” I asked politely.

“Nothing. Just!”

“Just what? I am reading dear.”

“Then read, whose stopping you?”

“But what’s this all about?”

“I wanna read this book too.”

“Then read it when I am finished with it.”

“No, I wanna see how it feels the way you read it.”

And I was lost.

She was an expert on unexpectedly starting a mind twisting conversation. While experiencing silence or right in the middle of a chat, she would abruptly ask outlandish questions.

“Are you happy?”

And I, perplexed, could only utter, “What you mean?”

“I mean, are you happy living with me?”

“That’s a stupid question. And anyway I should be asking this question because I am the one who proposed you.”

“Then why don’t you ask?”

“What? should I ask it every day now?”

“No, but at least once in a while.”

“All right honey, tell me, are you happy living with me?”

“Alllooottt !”

And I was flabbergasted.

One day when I came back from work, she invaded me with a question as soon as I appeared from the door.

“Why don’t you twist my ear?”

“Are you crazy, you think I am mad or something? Why would I ever do that?”

“Well, last night while picking up the dishes from the table, I broke a plate and you said nothing to me.”

“And you want me to twist your ear on such a petty little thing?”

“At least you could chide me.”

“Ok, my fault. Next time I will.”

“Then do it.”

“What!”

“I broke another cup today.”

“That’s ok, I’ll get a new one tomorrow.”

“So you are not going to chide me?”

“No way, not on this one.”

“Then what am I supposed to do to make you chide me?”

“But why do you want me to chide you?”

“Because then you’ll say sorry to me.”

And laughter burst out of my stomach.

I could easily tell my friends that I have married a riddle.

But it wasn’t her; it was the system and the atmosphere in which we lived. In such a breath-hindering air, she was not only living but was keeping me alive as well. She had kept alive that precious feeling of love that had died in us. To remain alive in such a breathless air, she needed me and I desired her. That’s why I never got tired of her strange acts. I couldn’t leave her alone. If I had left her alone, I would have become alone as well.

Then one day, this system left me no option but to hate it and stand up in revolt against it. Mia was pregnant. She was facing a delivery situation. I rented a car to take her to hospital. We were both delighted. Everything looked fresh and new again. I hadn’t yet reached the main road when two policemen stopped me. They told me that I couldn’t go ahead. On my humble inquiry they told me that a member of the Politburo was to travel through this road so the passage was closed for general public. I informed them of my irresistible compulsion but they were earless. Justice is deaf in our part of the world. In response to my pleading, however, they had mercy on me enough to guide me to an alternate passage yet at the same time informed me that the road was under construction.

I considered it a blessing and turned the vehicle towards the alternative. That road was like highway to hell, full of ditches. I was trying my best to drive carefully so that Mia doesn’t get hurt, but it was all in vain. All those bumps and jumps; and Mia was in sheer pain. I would look at the road for one moment and would turn to Mia the next. I was continuously consoling her but I knew words would do no good. I never felt so much helpless in my life and I hated all this helplessness. I don’t want to go through all that misery again by stating the pains waged on Mia. All I can tell you is that this dreadful journey had a terrible ending. I couldn’t become a father and Mia, after hanging in balance between life and death, was deprived of ever becoming a mother again.

I entered the hospital room that was mourning the death of my dreams. Mia looked at me and tears sneaked through her eyes. In a torn voice, she started apologizing to me.

“I am sorry dear, you can’t be a father…”

I put my fingers on her lips.

“No, don’t say sorry. Its stupid. Rather I should thank you.”

“Why?” her eyes asked.

“Because you have come back.”

A soft smile appeared in her eyes. She wanted to say something but I stopped her. And then I kept on combing her hair with my fingers until she went to sleep.

If this system was some person, I would have killed it by now. It tortured me, refrained me from living a life of my own, but I never cared because I don’t care about myself much. I don’t care who does what to me. But Mia, these people harmed Mia and I care about her. I care about her more than anything in this world. I forgot every injustice ever done to me but I could never forgive the tyranny inflicted upon Mia.

That’s where I revolted against this red system. After taking the first step of revolt, I felt that numerous people were waiting for that first step. I only remained alone till the first step and then I was thronged with myself, the common man. We ejected the fear out of people’s hearts. The lava of emotions was given way and it melted that system to ashes. The country that had stretched the largest darkness on earth had lost its spell. The people living under the red sun found freedom; a freedom of their own.

The red sun had set.

During this revolution I couldn’t pay much attention to Mia. I had to hide in different places to avoid KGB. When I would go home with a break of few days, I found Mia waiting for me as if she knew the time of my coming home. She had become very weak. There were dark shades around her eyes. Her cheeks started losing their freshness. Bones started to peep through her round wrists. The shine in her eyes seemed to have gone quite some distance. And her smile was left on her lips only as her job. In spite of all this, she was still my Mia.

Once, when I came home after some days, I found a completely different Mia. A sad Mia. I could never see her sad.

“Mia, what’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”

“No, I am ok.”

“Then why you look so sad, so withered?”

“No, you are mistaken. I am just tired, nothing else.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you look happy?”

“I am happy, how else should I look?”

“No, I don’t see that joy on your face. I want to see your face full of life and happiness.”

“I am happy”, she said tiredly. But I couldn’t leave her like this.

“Tell me, what I should do to bring those smiles back again, to make your soul happy.”

“You really want me to tell you?”

“Yes, tell me. I’ll bring whatever you want.”

“No, I don’t desire a purchasable thing. All I want is… I want to stand right in front of you, so close that we feel our breaths hitting our faces, our hearts listen to each other’s beats, our eyes play together, your whispers vibrate my body, and I, taking your hands into mine, thrusting our fingers together, taking a deep breath, would scream so loud that all the tiredness inside me, all the sadness will vanish in the air.”

I knew the answer to her wish but I couldn’t say what I should have.

“Mia, I understand your pain but I have obligations. I have to be careful. The path that I have opted for, either leads to freedom or death. But believe me, we will be free soon. We will throw this blood-polluted system out of our lives for ever and then good times will come.”

I took off again to my destination. I knew after that incident Mia was very upset but I was doing all this for her, wasn’t I?
When the red sun was set, a bright new sun rose at us with a shining light. Its sunlight wasn’t red. It didn’t pinch. It shone to give us relief and warmth. But with the passage of time this sun also started throwing its hot spears at us. Its light only proved to be a sparkling darkness, which attracted us but failed to comfort us.

This system wasn’t flawless either. The government of the people couldn’t do good to the people itself. There might have been a change of system, but for us, the common men, it only brought “another government”. Too much freedom didn’t bring us too much prosperity. It became more and more difficult to make both ends meet. I lost my job and I would wander like a dog in search of work. Mia got sick because of malnutrition. I would come home late in the night and would get out early in the morning. We were running our lives somehow. There wasn’t much of a conversation between Mia and me. Perhaps there wasn’t anything left to talk about.

And then in such compellingly disappointing conditions, I found Tina. Even under these conditions she was full of life, breathing with all the energy. She wasn’t very beautiful but she was definitely very attractive. So it was natural for me to take interest in her but what surprised me was that she was attracted to me as well. I met her with reference of finding a job. She gave me the job and her company. I don’t know why, even though she was married.

This job was better. I was being paid well. She would take me to places every day, to cinema, coffee house or sometimes for nothing. Her husband worked in another city. It was her second marriage. She got divorced by her first husband; or she divorced him would be even more correct. She didn’t recall her present husband in good words either. Quite often she would reveal upon me the dark sides of her husband’s personality and I just listened silently.

In the mean time, Mia kept on getting farther and farther away from me. She never asked me where I stayed all night, where I worked all day, where I got the money from. She kept on doing house chores, quietly. May be her words were out of stock or may be she forgot how to talk. But I couldn’t feel all this. And even if I did, I suppressed the very thought of it in the graveyard of my heart where my love was sleeping. I was too busy spending the time with my boss.

With the passage of time, Tina’s conversations turned into passionate whispers. And I kept on drowning into the sea of her talking lips. I never tried to swim, resist or take control of myself. I left all of me on the waves of emotional mistakes, no matter where they take me.

And today, she is ready to swim me away. She is sitting very close to me. She tries to touch my hand with hers but I hesitate and put my hand in my lap.

“Give me your hand, I want to mix it with mine.”

I lost my strength for a moment, but then the very next moment a well-acquainted voice resounded from the unfathomable vacant of my heart. Mia’s voice. She asked me for such a favor once, but how innocently, not so professionally like her. Mia asked it for the comfort of her soul and she…….

Should I sacrifice Mia’s sincerity over Tina’s outwardly attraction? Should I forget all those innumerable moments spent with Mia for the sake of temporary pleasure? Should I betray Mia’s blind folded trust for a selfish wish of mine? No. Never.
I am running towards my home. On a distorted road, my feet are getting shaky but not my heart. I have nothing to give to Mia. My pockets are almost empty. But my heart is filled with love. I will give Mia the pleasure, the happiness. A happiness that would reflect on her face. I will get her back her long lost shining eyes, her smiles, her vigor, her innocence, her childish mischief, everything.

I enter the house. Mia is busy washing clothes. I grab her from her shoulders and make her stand right in front of me, so close that we feel our breaths hitting our faces, our hearts listen to each other’s beats, or eyes play together, and I, taking her hands into mine, thrust our fingers together.

At this moment with a loud scream, our entire tiredness and our sadness has vanished into the air.

————————————————————————————————————–

This short story was originally written in Urdu; has been published in magazine a number of times and has won best short story award. It is also up for short film production.

It was a rotten phone call.

In utter confusion and helplessness of unexplained gestures; I asked her, “don’t you trust me?” And that’s when silence struck like a thunderbolt; the line dropped and all I could hear was a melancholic tone ___ just like the one you hear in an ICU when someone dies. Something died between us.

It was a forgotten phone call.

I sailed through empty days in sheer absence of time. Days started wearing months. That melancholy was still there each time I picked up the phone to dial her number. That constant tone and saddening fear stopped my fingers from pressing the buttons.

Then one day, the phone rang, she called me up after all those years and said,

“I don’t know.”

Moon was sleeping behind the clouds and the stars were on a leave that night. A solitary breeze was strolling through the lonesome streets. It was half past twelve when Elisa got on the bus. She was late; very late. At the last minute, her manager showed up with a pile of work; a project proposal that was to be submitted the very next day. She had to sit late.

“I might get a raise if I pull this all right”, she fed herself with a hope and got back to work. By the time she completed that proposal, the sun had gone home. She looked out the window; a thousand stars were vividly ornamented in the casement of the modern pyramids of the downtown. “May be they need a raise too”, she murmured and then picked up her bag to leave office.

When she reached the bus stop, the last bus she used to take, had left. So she had to take another one that dropped her a block away from her apartment building. She got off the bus and started walking with the soundless breeze. It wasn’t as quiet as she could hear. A faint__ to a certain extent, oppressed___ whistle of the breeze, the sound of her shoes hitting the pavement, a can dancing its way across the street and a car passing by on a distant road; she had some company.

She turned into a street which was lit by an old, pale street-light. The street was too long for that pale light to have veiled it completely. More she walked towards the other end of the street; more the darkness swallowed her shadow. She had reached half way down when she heard a footstep that wasn’t hers.

Without stopping, she looked back but couldn’t see any feet making that sound. She made her feet race each other a little faster. After a few yards she turned right into another street. The moment she turned, a shadow wavered in front of her eyes and a rough-edged hand was posted firmly on her nose and lips. A very thin space between those rugged fingers showed the way out to her torn breath. A loud scream started off from her lungs, into her throat and then went straight into her head instead of coming out of her mouth. Her brain reverberated with that scream and she felt as it would burst into pieces.

She clutched that arm to remove it from her face but it was cemented there. His other arm was searching through her skirt. With very little exit space for her swollen breath, she was losing sight. The light in the street was withering away when a sparkling reflection of street-light flickered in her eyes. She didn’t realize it was a knife until she felt it on the pumping veins of her neck.

Holding his arm with her right hand, she tried to take her bag off of her shoulder. Her intentions tried to bargain with that solid shadow, trying to offer him the money earned during the week, to save the self respect earned during life time. This offer was refused with a wild swing of his left arm that threw the bag away.

Knowing what to expect, she started scratching those pieces of darkness from his body only to find an evil skin underneath. His hands started displacing her clothes and then pushed her down on the pavement. Stuck between two solid rocks, she fluttered as much as the strength of her flesh allowed her.

Having her clothes torn apart, she then felt that gleaming and colorful fabric of her soul being ripped off. Another scream started off from her lungs, through her throat and came out of her eyes in tears. Her eyes were spreading those warm, salty cries but there was no one listening. That stinking breath kept falling on her face and stirring silence into her already fading screams.

For a few moments, that she didn’t want to count, that she didn’t want to remember, her body was invaded with cruelty and lust. And then she was left there; soundless and motionless. She looked at that silent, non-existing world around her through that red glass in her eyes and saw that ugly shadow starting to disappear in the dark.

Her head fell on to her left and there she saw another shadow; standing still in utter silence. There was something so easy and calm in the posture of that shadow that she knew whoever that was, had been standing there since the beginning; watching. She closed her eyes but that horror started rolling in them like a film. She opened her eyes, stood up, gathering her broken pieces into one broken piece and started walking.

Reaching at the end of the street, turning into another, she looked back. That silent shadow was still there. While her eyes were moving away from him and turning into the other street, she saw that shadow move and disappear.

All shadows disappear in the dark.

Ethan had lived in this neighborhood all his life. It was a calm and quiet place in general but in the night, bizarre things would happen once in a while. He had always heard of those weird things but had actually never seen them. That night, for some reasons, sleep kept avoiding him. Tired of fighting the night, he went out to get face to face with it.

He was wandering in an eternally ill street when he saw a tall shadow standing at a cursed corner. Ethan knew there was something to happen; something that he had always only heard of. While he was standing there watching that shadow, he saw a young girl appearing from the curve. It was a prolonged moment of utmost heat in his brain veins when he saw that shadow move quickly and wrapping his arms around that girl. The girl tried as much as she could but that guy was too big and too strong. Ethan never expected this to happen. He didn’t know what to do. He just stood there, struck in that dreadful occurrence of the unexpected.

While that shadow had finished spreading its darkness on her, it left. Ethan watched him go and then looked at her. She was looking towards him; at him. His feet froze in the melting sand of time and he couldn’t move. He could feel her complaining, “Why didn’t you do anything?” Ethan had no answer. He just stood there wrapped in fear and shame. She walked away and then turned into another street. Ethan went back home.

Some moments never leave you alone.

Elisa entered her apartment and fell on her bed as if she was throwing herself into the abyss of forgetfulness. But it wasn’t so. She couldn’t sleep. It was too painful a night to have carried anything with it as consoling as sleep. She didn’t want to think of what happened while there was nothing else she could possibly think of. All night long, she kept thinking of nothing.

For all the twenty four years of her life, she kept herself intact in a land far away in her head. She stayed away from all the waywardness the unscrupulous colors of life had to offer. She completed her business studies and moved to the Big Apple to become the master of her destiny. She found a decent job and was busy making herself worth the life she was given.

Love did breeze through her heart once when she was in college. But it didn’t sail smooth since her boyfriend was more interested in short and sharp fists of passion than in long lived emotions. She would only give herself to a person who would sail through the troubled waters of life with her. That breeze of loving whispers turned into a sandstorm of arguments and she had to leave it behind her.

She was lying on the bed face down and all the fallen days were swirling through her head. She wanted everything to be perfect. A good job, a house, true love, family and satisfaction of living her life to the full. But it all looked so bleak now because of an ill-defined shadow in a dark street __ that wasn’t even on her way home. Someone took that first time away from her; pealed it off of her body, piece by piece; dream by dream. It all seemed over. Night was spreading across her eyes and sleep was stepping down from her eyelids.

Next morning, she called up at the office and asked for a leave for next two days. Given the work she had finished successfully the night before, she was granted leave. Now she had a long weekend to scratch that painful memory off from her heart and to fight back through her life.

Life was fighting back.

Ethan opened his eyes and felt a moment fallen from time, stuck in his sight. He could still feel those eyes hitting him on his chest. A bitter taste of yesterday was pasted on his tongue. He felt terrible. He stood up and got ready to go to work. He knew it was going to be a slow sunset today.

The day went away somehow. He was clueless as to what happened during the day. All he could see was two eyes shining in the dark, complaining. He knew he had to find those eyes; he had to listen to them. He took the next day off and rode the bus home.

He got off the bus and walked towards the street where his sleeplessness had come from. He stood there at the place where some dreams turned into nightmares. He could see small pieces of cries, a melancholic stain and a dirty red glass. He could hear the shattering of a life, tearing of a soul and that silent death of light. He then looked at the place where he was standing last night. He looked at that place with complains in his eyes.

The world around him looked dusty. He didn’t want to go home so he took off towards the city. He was strolling through the busy streets trying to keep his mind superficially busy in the artificial details of unvarying life around him, when he found those eyes. He saw her sitting on the steps of the museum. He knew it was her, he could recognize those eyes even in the broad daylight. That pain was still fluttering in her eyes. He stood there for a while, looking at her. He knew this time he had to do something. He started walking towards her.

Heavy feet carry the burden of the mind.

Elisa was feeling suffocated in her apartment. Somehow the walls had shrunk and the air was lessening. She went out to the city to make her mind wander on the busy roads of the downtown than in the dark street of her neighborhood. After roaming through a few hundred random thoughts, her mind got tired and she sat on the steps of the museum.

A soft rumble of countless footsteps had surrounded her stationary feet as people moved in and out of the building. She was staring at her soundless feet when another pair of feet appeared and joined them in silence. She looked up and heard, “Hi”.

There was a young man standing there blocking her sun. He was about 28, dark hair, dark eyes and a very fresh skin. She looked at him with no emotion in her eyes and meaninglessly uttered, “Hi”.

“You mind if I sit here?” Ethan asked with a polite tone.

Tired of listening to that deafening silence, she nodded in affirmation.

He sat down on the steps and for a few moments joined her silence.

“Too quiet today, isn’t it?” he threw some meaningless words in to the pond of no words.

“Yeah” Elisa hardly uttered.

“Silence always hides painful words”, he intended to get her to talk about something.

“Not always”, she paused for a moment looking deep into something in the air that only she could see. “Sometimes it merely reveals the absence of words.”

“Yeah. And what makes the words dry out?” he asked.

“I don’t know”, was the answer.

“Pain?” he asked again fearing he might be getting too personal.

Silence appeared again as she fell deep into her thoughts.

“May be” she said without any intention of saying anything.

“A silent pain is more painful than a screaming one” Ethan wanted her to say something more.

She looked at him with a thousand expressions on her face. Fearing that she might suspect him for someone he isn’t, he tried to change the subject, “Ethan, my name is Ethan.”

With her eyes looking towards him but not at him, she said, “Elisa!”

They sat there for a while and then he took her to a nearby restaurant where they talked some more.

Elisa found a temporary refuge in Ethan. He was keeping her at a fair distance from last night and with every word he said, the distance kept growing. There was just one thing that disturbed her, that made her feel distressingly uncomfortable; his eyes. There was something about them; something related to her. She shrugged those thoughts away as she didn’t want to tell herself that it was love.

Love makes you feel lonely.

Later in the night she entered her apartment and felt alone again. She was safe here, she was free. But she had this fear in her heart that a detailed memory of the night gone by will visit her again and will pollute every night that is to come.

She didn’t want to switch on the darkness and didn’t like the thought of losing her sleeplessness. Tired of listening to her cracking thoughts; she picked up the phone and dialed Ethan’s number, that was painted on her palm by Ethan himself. Her heartbeat kept ringing on the other side and before she would give up on her heart, Ethan picked up the phone.

“Somehow I knew you would call now” he said in a firm voice.

“Yeah? How?”

“I don’t know. I just___ I just wanted you to.”

“Ok, I have called now.”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know what to say and she didn’t know what she would hear. Silence was about to fill the distance between them, but before it would freeze, he broke it into pieces, and “Can we meet again?”

“Yeah” she wanted to hear that.

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“11:30?”

“Yeah.”

“Same place?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.”

She shut the window to let sleep in.

The night gave way to morning sun and she woke up with light falling on her face. It was a quiet morning. She stayed in bed; just lying there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of so many things that she couldn’t focus on any one of them. She never wanted a day like this in her life___ or a night like that. It was all so imperfect__ it so didn’t match her plans. But whose plan was it? Of that dark shadow? Of God? Of her fate? Whatever the reason and whoever the culprit, she was the victim___ and for what sin?

“What would___ or ‘should’ if fate allows me___ I do now? What is this morning so silent and unbearably perfect? Where will this day go when its finished? Where will I store it? In my head___ along with that night? Who is Ethan? Why doesn’t he fit into my life so perfectly?”

Questions remained her sole company till the sun rose above the window. It was about time. She took a shower, got dressed and left her apartment.

Dreams travel the distance we avoid.

Sitting in the bus, Ethan was looking outside aimlessly while his mind roamed through the brightest corners of the day gone by. She so perfectly fit into that day, the whole memory of it.

The bus stopped and he came out of his yesterday for a while. A rolled up paper bag was place in his lap. Looking at it and holding it tight in his hands, he let the day before yesterday enter his head again. That night when a few inactive moments took him on a journey promising a melancholically beautiful dream and abandoned him in the land of insomnia forever.

“Why didn’t I do anything? Why didn’t I move; why didn’t I call for help? Why didn’t I help? Why didn’t I fight that dark shadow?”
In the junkyard of so many useless questions___ for it was over now and the fact remained that he didn’t do anything___ he didn’t find one purposeful answer.

The bus stopped again. It was his stop. He got off and walked towards the restaurant.

Heart feels like an ocean when you feel so many things swimming through it at the same time.

Elisa saw him entering the restaurant. He moved like a warm morning breeze through the wintry beaches of her eyes. There was something so calm about him, in his eyes, on his face, in his gate; that it scared her. Perfect things are stagnant things, they don’t grow, they don’t change, they don’t improve. She didn’t want things to be perfect between them. She left that fear roaming in her veins. Those salty beaches were now hidden in mist.

She laughed__ didn’t know after how many days__ but she laughed. He made her laugh. He dived into the deep seas of her heart and fished out the happy days. When he surfaced, he came out with laughter in his pockets which he merrily gave to her and she decorated them on her lips.

Things were about to divulge into perfection when she looked deep into his eyes. There was something so silently calm about them that she knew there were secrets to be told. She wasn’t wrong.

After all that was done, what was planned, he put that paper bag on the table.

“What is this?” she asked without saying a word.

He unrolled the bag, took out a shiny, stainless knife and put it on the table in front of her.

“What is this?” she repeated her question, this time in words.

“I found it.”

Something in his tone told her that things were about to fall apart.

“I found it ___ on 23rd street ___ in the corner ___ on the sidewalk___”

She kept looking at him.

“___ On the night before last night.”

Her heart shook and stopped for a while. Silence fell on her ears, her eyes, her heart___ her life. He kept talking, explaining to her the illogical reasons why he didn’t move, why he didn’t do something, why he just stood there. She wasn’t sure if she listened to him or not. The cynosure of her heart was that sparkling knife ___ the emblem of her fear ___ lying in front of her. It kept wavering in her eyes, casting a dark shadow on her memory.

“All this time I have hated myself, cursed myself for being such a dormant coward. I didn’t know you, but that night when you looked at me, I thought that’s what I was born to do, to protect you, and that’s what I didn’t do. I wasted my whole existence there; I denied the justification of my being alive. Now I know you ___ and I regret it even more…”

She picked up the knife and silence stuck in his mouth. She just gazed at that sharp-edged object of arrogance and ignorance. He wanted her to say something; he wanted to listen to her but she didn’t say a word. There was nothing to be heard, not even a sigh.

And then she looked at him ___ with no complains, no resent, no regret; nothing. She just looked at him; to say goodbye and it was too hard to say in words that she chose to say it with her eyes. Not sure whether he understood that or not, se put the knife in her bag, stood up and walked away. Ethan just sat there with an empty brain.

You waste life all life, then one day life wastes you.

All day long, Elisa kept wandering all over the city. She went to places she had never visited before because she didn’t have time. Today she had all the time on her wrist, she was free; free of any boundaries of time, any relationship, any obligation___ any passion. She wasn’t obliged to think of anything; not her past, not her future, not even today. Why should she bother herself to think of things so unreal; so much unreal that they don’t exist.

By the time night fell from the sky, she was all tired. She approached the bus station and sat there with a motionless body and a thoughtless mind and kept watching her bus leave every 10 minutes.

It was late in the night when the announcement for the last bus of the day was made. She stood up and walked towards the bus, holding her bag tightly in her hands as this was one possession that could salvage her painful heart.

She got off the bus a block away from her apartment building. For a moment she stood there silently and then moved towards twenty third street.

The wind held its breath when it saw her again there. A can trying to dance its way over to this end of the street; stopped half way. Her shoes hit the pavement but didn’t leave the company of silence. The street had eaten up her shadow. She turned right and felt a black shadow creeping on her neck. Before the shadow could touch her, she took her hand out of her bag while turning around, swung that shiny piece of metal with every piece of energy in her raging mind and stuck it in his neck. The knife entered that rotten skin all the way and stopped. Silence broke into a surprise-struck painful scream. The shadow flickered for a while and then fell down. She stood there watching it until it went motionless. A red piece of glass melted and rolled on the concrete. In that thick fluid, she saw her memory dieing away.

She stood there for a while with her eyes shut; and then she felt two eyes looking at her. She turned around opening her eyes and looked at that dark spot across the street. He had been standing there all the time; watching. A wave of tears went through her eyes but she didn’t let it spread out on her face. She replaced it with a wave of arrogant smile and a successful march of shining stars on her eyelids. Life came back; a raise, a house, a family, love and above all her worth.

She turned around and started walking towards her apartment building.