Zehnaseeb ✓

f i f t y

[a healthy mind is not easy to achieve, but it's the most important factor in life. you need it to be able to enjoy the only life Allah's given you.]

—  S A W E R A  —

Airports are so so so fun. But what's even more fun is reaching home.

A home I never called mine.

The second jail.

It's the first time I've laughed at it instead of cringing. I was cute a few years back, had a very different mindset and it was very sweet and innocent.

In these eight months I've had lots of first times.

They make me so happy, I don't know if I want to go back to Azaan or if I want to bring him here, with me, and go on a long long road trip and become a khanabadosh.

I always thought recovery would happen all of a sudden. Just the way I landed back in Azaan's life, I thought it'd just happen one good day. One day some situation would arise and I'd behave so different, so unlike me... I forgot I had planned to fall in love with myself.

Falling in love with me.

Not becoming someone unlike me.

I did not plan on changing myself.

And aaagh! it really was a journey. It was meeting new people. Good and bad people. They all picked a highlighter and marked out the best parts of me. The change never happened all of a sudden, nor was the self-love forced on me, but yes I did forcefully leave the negative thoughts.

I ignored them whenever they arised. I knew they were the root of all my problems.

A month ago, I decided going back to Seville. I started living in the same small house where we spent our honeymoon.

This time, I didn't know how long my stay would last. I just knew that at the end of the stay, this journey would end. I knew this was my last stay, after it I was going back to my love.

And here I am.

Turning the keys on the door of our apartment, where he's currently living.

Not yet a perfect human being. But a very confident, strong and beautiful one.

I tiptoe inside, embracing the cold of November.

2PM of a Sunday afternoon.

I haven't talked to Azaan in three weeks, he's definitely not expecting me.

As I walk in, I notice the whole house dimmed obscure. As if nobody were living here.

Is he back? Or is he still in the office.

I walk to the empty study, look around, then to our room and sit there. Kind of disappointed.

It's always my self-care, my self-love, my self-esteem. He never thinks for himself.

It's unhealthy to work at such le—

I hear small thuds and turn the lights of our room on.

I roam my gaze.

He's not in the bathroom either.

Where is the—

It comes again. Seems like it's coming from the guestroom.

I turn the lights off and walk there with a heart full of love.

My Shahrukh Khan stands there, trying to mimic the painting he bought for me.