Adios Beloved!

Untitled Part 1

    Date: 14th june, 2064.

I'm here to tell you my story I have almost lived a century now, I'm 87. Ya, Allah! At childhood I often wondered how did Grandpa and Grandma survive for these many years, or were there born that way? Childhood imaginations, wild and untamed just like the wind, no barriers, and the heights of creativity of, course, but now I'm of course a Grandpa. Yes, a Grandpa, I don't have my own lineage but, yes, my vicinity, children, they are the spark in my life. In short I'm a bachelor Grandpa, that's my name the vicinity kids have kept. Please don't get bored by my story, I have an interesting tale to tell. I'm not here to tell you and bore you till death with Granny tales; I'm here to tell you about, her.

 Yes, her, not my wife, but she's sure my lover, my Jodha. The story can be adjusted in one of the historical records or so, because it's an old story, it happened. Sorry, I've forgotten to introduce myself I'm Jalalludin Mohammad a famous business tycoon (now retired), who is now waiting to meet with eternity, because now, my limbs ache and finally I believe I can have eternal rest and get relief from my aching body.

 Ok, now coming to the main part of the story, yes, my Jodha. I met her in a hotel, not under favorable circumstance, as it happens in any movie or t.v opera that you crash with a girl and she is about fall, and you hold her in an inclined position and you have the eye lock and sparks fly and there's melodious background music, no nothing as such happened when I met her, or nothing so close, happened. See the unfavorable circumstance was that the hotel was under a terrorist an attack. Yes, terrorist attack sounds scary, giving you chill to the bones but not for me. Obviously she was scared, because she was the victim. 

She was sitting on the floor correction trying to sit, because she had this uncomfortable position, probably because she was not used to sit down, she was wearing shorts and tank tops, beautiful as she was her, brown eyes, ever expressive, her beautiful tresses, I think, I should stop and finish singing the praises of her beauty, or I belief I'll end like one of the love sick poets, in short she was beautiful inside out

. OK, now to the fact you might be thinking hard that was I so bold enough not be afraid of the terrorist attack ?or was I from the army? See either of them are no, for me. Then who am I? Let's break the ice I'm the most wanted TERRORIST "Jallad". Yup! The terrorist, only god knows how we fell in love under such odd circumstances. No it's not the spicy love stories you would expect, it an odd love story. 

Oddness not only due to the circumstances but may other factors you'll see. She had a beautiful amalgam of fear and rage in her orbs. I did not why but I was attracted to her, probably infatuation, I guessed at that time, but I now affirm that my soul had found its mate. She was the brave kind, because after long hours of terrorizing all the people, I could still see rage evident in her orbs. 

 There was constant pressure on us that the people should not over power us and secondly, the patrol, outside were waiting outside for their feast. It was risky work, they had to manage out alive, after completing your given task. My group's head began to negotiate through the mike, but the patrol hard enough to bend. To be honest even though I hate them I respect their dedication and courage to give life for an unknown correction non-existent person. When weren't being able to hold bargain, I could see my group leader go mad with rage, a different kind of rage, which was too deadly. 

She spoke up- Excuse Me! All eyes turned on her; there in her eyes I read that she did not like being the centre of attention. She continued I a faking bold voice- That lady needs a seat to sit, she's pregnant. All eyes turned out on the pregnant lady, she had a baby bump, and she looked sick it reminded of my sister. She was uncomfortable, and she needed a seat, it was not safe for a lady who is expecting to sit like this. Suddenly my group leader came near her pulled her hair and said- Who are you to bother Mother Teresa? Or Neerja Bhanot? This won't work on us.