تمھارا انتظار کرتی رہی تھی میں
تم آؤ گے، اعتبار کرتی رہی تھی میں
آنکھ لگے تو کٹ جائے گی یہ غم شب
اسی امید میں ساری رات جاگتی رہی تھی میں
کتنی شامیں ڈھلی دیوان لکھتے لکھتے
تمہے بے ساختہ یاد کرتی رہی تھی میں
کبھی چاند اور سورج بھی ایک ہوئے ہیں؟
کم عقل، خوش فہمیاں پالتی رہی تھی میں
اس اک دید کی خاطر،
اپنی عمر برباد کرتی رہی تھی میں
اپنی کم ظرفی کو چھپانا چاہا تھا میں نے
بے بس تھی، مقدر کے آگے ہارتی رہی تھی میں
تم تو فائز تھے سدرۃ المنتہیٰ کے روبرو
تمہے فرش پر تلاش کرتی رہی تھی میں
~سدرہ
( I wrote this poem on my own, please show some love. )
//////
Two days, she told him she could do this wait. But in real she felt so incomplete as if she had lost something which she couldn't find.
After coming home from hospital, she didn't even know what to do. Everything felt empty. She kept aimlessly lurking in the hallway, staring at his grandfather's proud portrait, cuddling
the shirt he had taken off before leaving for the Islamabad and eventually she plopped in the lounge, defeately. Her body was lethargic, there was no more energy left with in. Her muscles were fatigued.
She didn't want to make Iftar or go to his parents' home. She just wanted to be alone and cry for a while. Which she did, her heart was filled with unexplainable miseries, her mind was jumbled.
She didn't know she loved him this much, until now.
It was hard to spend an hour without him let alone two days. It was half an hour until Maghrib Azan and she knew for an unprofessional and broken crap like her, it was way too less. She at least needed 3 hours.
Realising of how much little time was left in Iftar and she hadn't even boiled an egg yet; it brought another set wave of tears.
She instantly wiped her tears away and got conscious of her surroundings as her ears caught some shuffles from outside.
"Api?"
Emir sticked his head inside from the door. "O, you are here. What are you making today?"
"Haven't decided yet." She played cool, like she wasn't crying a minute ago after his brother.
"Okay." He randomly nodded. "Are you missing bhai?" He asked out of blue, startling her.
"Kind of." Amarha laughed awkwardly, even tho she knew that this kid will be thinking of her a maniac.
"Your face is flushed. You have been crying." Emir gazed her calculatingly, just like his brother did most of the times.
"I can take you to Zam, if you want me to. Its only two hours ride and I know how to drive."
Amarha laughed slowly at his kind offer and shook her head.
"I am serious."
"I can't go, Emir. Your Appi's job is really tough." This poor boy was offering her something more than he was capable of. She knew her father-in-law would never allow him to drive.
He tsked, "then stop crying. Want me to help with something?"
"You are really nice but I yet haven't decided what to cook."
"Api, its very late. You need to kiss goodbye to your breakdown right now and better be frying some goodies."
"You didn't tell me the reason of your visit." Amarha asked Emir who was now frying some some frozen chicken rolls that Amarha had in the freezer. Amarha herself was making spaghetti.
"Ammi sent me to tell you that you should bring some necessities along as you will stay with us. She thinks it isn't safe for you to spend night here alone."
Amarha stopped mixing the fried onions and freshly added tomatoes together as the point sank deeper in her mind.
"Ammi is right. Why didn't I think of it before?"
"I guess this is what elders are for. To remind us." He shrugged and scooped out two rolls.
***
Amarha settled down in the single bed. A sigh escaped her mouth as the squishy mattress engulfed her. God! It's so comfortable.
Her eyes travelled around the walls. The one opposite to the bed had many postures on it, a map and some polaroids.
She got down the bed in curiosity to see what it was on Polaroids and just like she had anticipated, it was his Polaroids. Little Zaman, his friends--among them she could recognise Bazil, his partner since school life.
Once again, Amarha was proud that he have had a really colorful life unlike hers. He have had experienced lots of things. In a small picture, he stood in front of the Eiffel tower. Had he he been to France? She never knew. He looked quiet young. May be of Emir's age. In the other picture, he sat on a beach. Amarha couldn't recognise the place.
Now she understood why he wasn't as excited as she was when they planned their honeymoon; when she'd ask him to take her to northern areas. That was solely because he had visited forgein countries and was totally normal when it came to cities of his own country. Unlike him, Amarha had never been to other cities let alone other countries and hence when he gave in to the idea of Northern areas, she had been so crazily happy.
She wanted to facepalm herself for her dumbness now.
She could remember when he suggested Turkey for their honeymoon. It was may be because he wanted to visit it or may be revisit it? Who knew?
She laid down in his bed with the determination of asking him in the first place about his trips when he comes, and she'd tell him how much she actually felt lost without him.
The worst part was the fact that she couldn't name that feeling, that emptiness and a deep regret of being left out. She would never be able to see what Zaman had been doing in his teen life, how did he cope with his matric exams, how he celebrated his eighteenth birthday, what was his behavior before he stepped in his practical life. She was sure he was well-pampered child, she could gauge it by the little of details that Zaman told her here and there about his life.
***
It was his fourth day here and how his heart ached to fly back. Their was a strange restlessness in every fiber of his body. He never ever had felt this kind of homesickness before.
It was as if some invisible chains were pulling him back.
Zaman gazed down at the cityline of Islamabad from where he sat. The twinkling was something out of the world. So pacifying, so occupying that for once Zaman's mind was off the things that vexed him.
He always thought that each light in outskirts belonged to a home where lived a family, just like his one. But how lucky they were that they had no such worries like his. They were all peacefully sleeping. No one received threats, no one had healed from a deep damage of soul after being almost killed once.
But may be they were living the worst, Zaman just didn't know about them like they didn't know about him.
Sometimes he wondered what it would have felt like if he had died right away, if the bullet hadn't missed the aim. How his mother have dealt with the grief? Who would have married Amarha? Who would have made her blush?
Amarha. He sighed again. Wasn't she supposed to be with him right now?
His ears perked up as some bushes shuffled behind him. After a few moments, Bazil jumped out, shaking his head at him.
"Are you on the same hilltop again?" Bazil wiggled his eyebrows at his bestfriend.
"By what you see. Yes."
This hilltop was something both of them had discovered many, many years ago when they were on a college trip to Islamabad. They both sneaked out in the middle of the night from their hotel and were goofing around when they hit upon a track that went up on a steep path.
It somehow looked challenging and fun so their teen brains programmed and ordered them to just climb it up.
In the middle of the night, they made their way up through the grown wild bushes on the hill, their giggles clamoring through the hushed trees.
"Here." Bazil lit up two cigarettes and handed one to Zaman.
Zaman first stared at his hand hesitantly and then took it. He knew his wife had strictly prohibited him. But then Zaman shrugged the thought away by thinking whose gonna tell Amarha.
He sucked in a deep whiff and instantly started to cough as his lungs shrank, gasping for more and more oxygen. Bazil patted his back as Zaman wiped the water off his eyes.
"What happened bro?"
Zaman shook his head, "I am alright. Its just Amarha didn't let me smoke since the wedding." Zaman tossed the cigarette away.
"I see she is bossy."
"She is timid."
"Whatever, I hope you are happy."
"More than happy. I truly understand now why this sky, moon, stars, mountains, rivers were brought to existence--these were all made out of love. This feeling is just so powerful, it holds us together." Zaman laid down on the grass, facing the night sky with his hands resting on his chest. "Bazil, I think if I hadn't fallen in love, I would have never found me. I was so much into the worldly matters, and so many hyprocrite wolves surrounded me that my faith was almost lifted up from humanity." Zaman looked at his friend who was plopped down beside him.
"May be that is why she is sent to you."
Zaman tilted his face, the side of his cheek touching the grass as he gave his friend an i-know-right look.
A good seconds flew by before Zaman confessed, "I miss her."
"She was the one you should have called to Islamabad, not me."
"Noted for the next time." Zaman scoffed, his eyes stayed at the array of three stars that Amarha had showed him once from their terrace.
"Zaman, these are three sisters; Mintaka, Almilam, Alnitak!"
Her voice played at the back of his head. He himself was amazed when he realised that he actually remembered their names. If it wasn't for Amarha making him chant them on terrace, he would have forgotten them long ago.
"How's Armaghan and Zohan?"
"Terrible." Bazil laughed, "but I miss them."
"Next time if your bestfriend calls you to another city, don't mind him instead stay with your children."
"Noted for the next time." Bazil shook his head.
A good few seconds flew by and it was all silence until Bazil broke the ice, "when are you having one?"
"When ALLAH Wills."
He nodded, "you know I was never ready--for them--for babies. But when I took Armaghan for the first time in my arms, I just can't word those feelings. It was a sublime moment. And at that second I realised it was all worth it."
"I remember you were so nervous throughout. But why are you telling me this all of a sudden?"
"So if you feel any trouble regarding this, come running to me."
"Okie, but there's none right now."
"I know." He exhaled a sigh and Zaman watched him throw the cigarette away. "I wish the best for you, you know."
Zaman forced himself up, shifting his weight on his elbow and oggled his friend, a half smirk on his face. "I believe. So is that why you punched me in front of Abdul Kabeer?"
Bazil shook his head.
"My jaw kept hurting for days just so you know. Thanks for wishing best for me!" Zaman sarcastically witted.
"That was because you were being careless and I hate carelessness. Whether it's concerned with work or with someone's own self. I don't have any sort of personal grudges with you. Its just that you don't look around yourself to see people you put in pain and distress because of your silly ass." Bazil opened the seal bottle of falvoured milk and proceeded it to Zaman. "Remember when you were almost killed about four years ago. You were in hospital when I arrived, unaware of your surroundings. It was I who saw your mother, the condition she was in, was horrible. I pray no mother goes through that."
Remorse took over the brown orbs but he shrugged it away, "but I am alive, you see. And yes may be I did deserve a few more punches."
"Its not about that Zaman. You need to be careful and conscious of your surroundings."
He nodded only at his bestfriend as he took a sip of his milk. "You are right. But I am trying to improve. Besides assassinating someone isn't that easy."
"It is for some people, who have forgotten about Akhirah. Tsk. Only if once I get strong evidences against Azain and get him behind the bars. I have this strong believe that this was all planned by him, he wanted you out of the frame since the day one so that he could win the elections and run his dirty business in the town with no hindrance."
"He thinks it's that easy to have me out of the way. Even his generations will remember me let alone he himself."
"Zaman, exactly! You need to teach people like him a lesson. But before you protect citizens of your town, you first need to protect yourself."
They sat quiet for a while, feeling the tranquil as the midnight wind blew and some horrible past events played in the screen of their minds.
"Do you remember Nimra?"
"Never forgot about her." Zaman pushed himself up. "I remember her pale face, little black eyes when she regained her consciousness for a bit of moment."
Zaman turned to Bazil, "it haunts me that we couldn't find the real culprit."
"The pain she went through still gives me shudders. I hope she is happy in the vast gardens of heaven."
"Ameen."
***
Mohsin stompted the stairs up and was relieved to find his missing wife sitting on the last stair before the terrace boundaries starts.
He sighed and jogged to her, "I was finding you. What's up?"
"You needed something?" Layla turned her face to him. In the darkness of night, he kinda found her sad by what the outlines of her face vaguely showed but he shooed the thought away.
"Its not like I will come to you only when I need something."
She turned her face away to whatever she was looking at, before.
Mohsin tsked, taking her hand in his. His fingers stroking the wedding ring on which his name was engraved.
On his touch, Layla brought her face to look in his eyes. Her lips tugged into a soft smile as she saw her hand in his large ones. A second later, she took the hold of his hands, her thumb pad tracing his veins.
"Have I ever told you how much craze I used to hold for your hands?"
"Of all the things, my hands?" He snickered.
She nodded, shying sway. "When we used to have practicals together, I always used to stare at your pretty pretty hands."
"Ew", he snorted. "You used to ghost me?"
"I always thought what it would feel like to hold these hands."
"Okay, now you are being a cringe." He snapped his hands out of her hold.
"I am sorry." She instantly apologised, embarrassed.
"Moon's pretty today." She changed the subject.
"Yeah." He stood up, dusting his kameez, "Come downstairs. Mother wants tea."
"I am coming in a minute."