The capital was immersed in all its night glory with mountains shrouding the city in gloominess, weaving the eerie silence in the designated corridor of the hospital.
Her petite form was slumped on one of the lined chairs, the sides of her shirt bunched up in her svelte and clammy hands. Her insides were on fire. A spark so profound, she felt being consumed by it as her doleful eyes bored in to the flooring as if it was the only thing fascinating in this mundane world.
The chemotherapies weren't working and now the cancerous cells had spread around the spinal cord. There was a thick chance of them spreading around the brain, as well, which is why surgery was out of option.
Mansha was balled up in her father's safe cocoon as both eyes mirrored each other, tears marring down their sullen faces at the bane their lives had become.
Azlan's muscular frame was leaned against the opposite wall when his eyes settled on her tattered condition. She was alone, clinging on to no one. When had she ever clinged on to anyone, anyway? She never had anyone to cling on to, to depend on. She was her own hero. She had always been. But sometimes even the hero needs an anchor to hold on to. Someone who'd assure them that everything would be okay. That it was just a figment and would pass in the blink of an eye. A false hope.
Taking small and calculated steps, he took a seat beside her. A distance of one chair was there as always. He didn't say anything. Not even a single word. Just sitting there, assuring her that he was there. Because sometimes even words are of no use. Just silence is needed. Silence that weighs way more than mere and empty words. Silence that gives hope. Silence that is enveloped around the presence promising to stick there no matter what.
His five o'clock shadow formed a halo around her bird frame. A protective shadow that wasn't suffocating in the slightest. It was comforting. His presence was comforting. She was slowly getting accustomed to him being around her; his soothing scent and sarcastic comments. Gradually, they were marking their territory in her daily life and she wasn't complaining. She had no idea if it'd be a salvation for her or a massive destruction. But, whatever it would be, she had become used to this labyrinth that was going to be a chaos in her life.
So she didn't utter anything and just stayed there, sprawled in her seat, breathing in his placating presence. While, he just sat there with his hands clasped together and elbows placed on his knees.
No words. Just a comforting silence. Holding thousands of emotions.
******
Back from dropping Safa's luggage in the Shehryar house, Arham was driving his way towards the shack when a figure balled up by the lake caught his attention, the hue of moonlight announcing it was Asmara.
Killing the engine, he hopped off his sleek vehicle and taking long and loud- so as not to scare her off with his sudden and quiet intrusion- strides, strolled towards her.
"Oh, so the H2O fascinates you, too."
He piqued once he had sat down beside her.
Asmara who had her gaze intact on the lake glimmering in the silver hue, turned her head towards him with scrunched eyebrows.
"Water."
Arham chirped on her perplexed expressions.
"You know, two atoms of hydrogen and one atom of oxygen. The chemical formula for water."
He grinned, flashing his pearly teeth, as if he was the one who had come up with the formula.
"No, I was confused at the clownery."
She jibed back, her arms wrapped around her knees that were drawn to her chest.
"Studied chemistry for one whole year. Had to throw a shade."
He shrugged his shoulders, nonchalantly.
"Anyways, gave Safa her clothes?"
She inquired, turning her gaze back towards the lake, her chin resting on her knees.
"Obviously. I have no intention of wearing them."
He replied sheepishly, his eyes fixated on her. She just stayed quiet, prodding into her only object of interest.
"You miss her, don't you?"
He had been sensing this ever since Safa had left. The change in her stance wasn't visible at first but as the time dragged by, the uneasiness and gloominess in her behaviour intensified, too.
"Of course, I do. It's been a month since I've seen my best friend."
The sadness in her fragile voice wasn't hidden from him, neither did she try to.
"I mean I do know Ayyan needs her and I'm not saying I want her to come back. It's just that I really miss her. I think I'm allowed this much liberty to feel this way, you know?"
She heaved a deep breath.
"And no, I'm not being immune to that poor child. I pray for his health and quick recovery daily. These are two completely different feelings that I'm going through right now. But, forget it. You won't understand."
She was sure he was going to judge her for being heartless enough to only care about her friend, thinking she didn't give a hoot about the sufferings of that forsaken child.
"I do."
His whisper intermingled into the darkness of the night and she looked towards him with astounding gaze; her face contorting into soft expressions.
"Thank you!"
A genuine smile crept up her lips but didn't quite overshadow the worry etched on her visage.
He knew it was something more than just worrying about Safa and Ayyan. But what he didn't know was why his heart stung on seeing her in pain.
******
"I think you should go back to the valley, Mansha."
Safa broke the silence as she addressed Mansha whose entire focus was his brother enjoying his rides on different slides. They had taken him to the park situated on the front of the hospital. He needed to get out of the boring and depressing confinements of the hospital, reeking with staunch smells of chemicals and medicnes always. Fresh air and co-curricular activities were very much needed to keep his brain working.
"What do you mean? I can't leave my brother alone in this tough time."
Mansha was confused at this sudden suggestion.
Pushing the swaying strand of her hair behind her ear, Safa put her hand on Mansha's.
"I'm not asking you to leave him. I'm just asking you to go back and continue your studies. You have just joined the school and you were already lagging behind. These procedures can take years as far as we know and you can't just stay in the hotel and put a halt to your ongoing life."
She was right, Mansha knew. One way or another, she had to go back. Her entire life was there. Her home was there but her heart? It was here. In the city. Stranded in the war between life and death. How could she leave him behind? How could she move on when her baby brother was stuck behind?
But this is what life is. It goes on, with or without anyone.
"And what about you? You also have your job there; your life."
She asked as the cool and smooth wind caressed her hollow face.
Safa shrugged in return as her eyes stared far behind the horizon.
Her life? Oh, how could she tell her she didn't have any life to commence this conversation in the first place? Her life had been smothered long back and choked out of her. She was just a walking vessel. An empty vessel with no soul whatsoever.
"There are other teachers to substitute for my position. Besides, you'd want someone you know would take care of your brother while you are not around so my being here will give you that assurance and relief. And I'm not asking you to never look back. You can frequently visit him every week."
She replied back, leaving a brooding Mansha in her chain of thoughts. Her mind had gone all foggy. On the one hand, what Safa had suggested made sense and was the only rational decision, too; while on the other, her mind was at a constant battle with her heart.
******