Eight

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"I can never think of doing anything bad. My gestures have always displayed my love for this country. A group of smugglers was blackmailing me but when I rebuked they simply made life miserable for me. What do you think that I have been taking rest since when I was deported? I am passing the most difficult days of life." He was broken.

News anchors were after him and he was tired of justifying. 

"What are your further plans? Will you be apologizing for your shameful deeds?"

Every time when he had to answer the same questions he was left with no choice but to take a deep breath. He was used badly and the world didn't know the secrets.

He was an honest person and was highly committed to the fact that he was serving his country. He was shattered when the team manager communicated with him for his return. International cricket had closed its doors on him. He was left alone in the mob. He was just breathing but his life had died a couple of weeks ago.

When he reached back to the country it was getting difficult for him to lift his eyes. Those who screamed when he just showed his single appearance were silent. Those who tried to touch him when he had to pass through the fully crowded places in a rush had pulled their arms back. They were maybe ashamed of their choice that simply caused a bad name to their motherland. 

But where was his stance? 

Where was the soft corner for him? 

He was just blamed. He was a convict not a criminal. His crime was yet to be proved.

....

It was another morning after a sleepless night. He turned a little to see the bottle of tranquilizers, claiming a hundred tablets, and just two tablets were left. Resting his stiffened back on the bed crown Abdullah closed his burning eyes. Whole night he had been talking to his lawyers' team and they were just focusing on patience. He was tired of expectations. He desperately wanted to go out but he was not an ordinary human being. 

For a second he wished to leave earth, or to disguise himself in a road side vendor again, or to get dissolved so that the world would cease thinking of any Abdullah Ahmed. He wanted an escape but his every attempt was failing.

It was the day when he thought of attempting suicide but a sudden force gripped his heart. He had to live. He had to make another few days of his life justifying himself. His career was lying in a hot desert with no oasis nearby. He had nothing to do but to cry when the newspapers appeared with the main leads about him. There were rumors, speculations and a ton of wrong believes.

............

She was just staring in the blank skies. Wearing a pale yellow dress, she was looking like the perfect fit in the puzzle. Her heart was signaling that he was true. Her heart was witnessing his purity. She knew his passion and was with him, still.

Kinza was reminiscing the days when he used to appear as the most carefree person on the planet. Her heart was aching when she recently saw him justifying again on television. She on the very moment wished to ease his pain so spread the prayer mat.

...

Abdullah was called at the National Cricket Academy for the sake of his career. The officials were assuring him and were still hopeful. He was tired after many sleepless nights and such meetings. These buildings were once his dream and now the bitter reality of his life. Why do the dreams that make us cry merrily in sleep turn into nightmares?

.........

He was driving and remembering those days when he used to cover himself in the maximum possible manner. While taking a turn his brain agitated a little for the circumstances and then the tranquilizers finally started working. He was dozing and this catnap was going to take his life.

......

AssalamoAlaikum.

I wish I had an option for dedicating each chapter to multiple fellows but wishes are not always fulfilled. 

The story is growing and I want you to participate. I would like you all to message me and tell your ideas regarding the scenes between Abdullah and Kinza. I would really appreciate it and will try to use your ideas in the best possible way if you PM me.

So gear up as the idea-mania has started..!!!

Byeeeee..

*stops the closing door*

thank you.. thank you.. thank you..

Allah Hafiz.


*Oh! I still love you all with the same passion or say, a great more than the past.*

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