She was like a butterfly in spring. Flying from one garden to the next with her face pulled in a bright smile.
He was like a lonely Eagle. Soaring through the winds at high speeds, looking for happiness.
Life threw curveball on curveball in her path...
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S E A T E D in the back of a rickshaw, Hoor along with her mother were destined for the famous Ichraa bazaar. The particular November morning was bright, the sun over head shining on the planet Earth, spreading its rays all over the horizon. The sky was sprayed a beautiful shade of blue and the white clouds looked like fluffed cotton. It was a very unexpected Monday morning. Usually, during this time of the year, rain would make its way down on random times of the day. And such a clear day was a welcome guest.
Their bodies resonated in the plastic covered seats. The driver maneuvered through the lanes skillfully. At times taking out his hand to signal a lane change. Hoor gripped the metal rods that were covered with bright, glittering tape. To provide her body some stability. The constant "zzzz" sound acted as the perfect lullaby, attracting Hoor towards itself to fall asleep.
They were heading to the huge cloth market to buy some new clothes for her. Her mother insisted that she buy all new clothes to signify a new start. Her father had given her mother money to buy stuff that she desired. On top of that, it was decided that she would take a few of Jahan-ara's own clothes that she had never worn, but were gifted to her at the time of marriage. It was not unheard of. Daughters taking their mothers clothes was a common sight.
"Baaji 200 ruppayho gai aapkay," the hoarse voice of the driver broke Hoor's chain of thoughts. "Arrey bhai 200 bohat ziada hai. Waisay bhi baat 150 ki hui thi!" Jahan-ara lost her patience on hearing the outrageous price. "Ji baaji. Par orange line ki construction ki waja sai upar sai ana para. Is liye". The driver tried to defend himself. "Acha acha," Jahan-ara handed him the money, murmuring to herself about the unfair situation.
Hoor was the one who stepped out first. Jumping on the road, carefully. The traffic in this part of the city was heavy and no one stopped. So one had to take care of themselves. Hoor stood parallel to the opened door. Allowing for her mother to step down, placing all weight on her slender shoulders. Making her think for a second that she might dislocate it, whilst standing there.
Jahan-ara grabbed Hoor's hand, leading her into the main part of the large shopping street. The two made their way through several narrow spaces, turning left and right watching their steps. The passing motorbikes and rude women who bumped into you at any given moment, slightly annoyed Hoor. Soon they reached the heart of the area. It was a space that opened to four different streets. The loud sounds of generators and food being fried became the backdrop as soon as vendors began shouting. Trying to attract buyers to their shops.
"Sale lag gai. Sale lag gai. Sale lag gai!" "Appi aain andarbohat variety hai!" "Baaji aap pasand karein, rate bhi munasib ho jaye ga!" Were just a few of the several phrases that were continously being shouted by the sellers at the top of their lungs. One could not pass one shop without having been called at to enter for the best quality clothing.
