Sunday, December 14, 2014

A Winter Embrace

Prelude to This

She sat on the old wooden stool, her back in a rigid posture with her fingers nimbly playing a melody on the pianoforte. It was Schubert, one of her favourites. She had always loved the rough silky texture of the black and white keys, that when felt by her delicate fingers gave birth to a world of its own.

Her fingers came to a halt as she let out a tired sigh, the piece had ended. He was too mesmerized to even applaud. It was then when she curtsied to him, that he broke out of his trance and clapped. Realizing it was nearing sundown and that they were the only ones in the small chapel, he interrupted the quiet.  

“I fear the weather has taken a turn for the ghastly. Would you like a ride home mademoiselle?” he spoke in a very aristocratic manner.

“Ah! Just the offer I was waiting for my kind sir,” she replied in earnest taking his proffered arm.
Not able to hold it any longer, she let out a giggle at their playful disposition and he joined her. Finally letting themselves out in hopes of searching some abode, safe and sound.

--*--

The weather was exceptionally colder than the last time they had met; this time they were trapped in a small inn due to the sudden snowstorm that had invaded the city. Thankful to have found this inn at some walking distance from the chapel. The wood burning in the fireplace cast a glowing amber about the room, warming it. They sat huddled together on the hard wood polished floor nestling a cup of hot chocolate to warm their insides. They were covered from head to toe, but the shivering was yet to recede as they were wet from the rains earlier and the fresh falling snow.

“I feel like trash. I thought I had one good thing in my life, so that I could start over. I didn’t know that sole being could mess me up more than anything I predicted. Each day I come across things that were mere lies. It’s sickening to know, so bad that unlike last time when I thought I was guilty I now realize I've just been a, prey.” Ayah mumbled eyeing the fireplace.

Yasin let out a frigid breath before taking a sip from his cup. He was startled by the new revelations from Ayah, when she gave him a call a month ago. Patience and time were the only keys to heal her all over again, he realized.

“You just don’t understand how to react. And it’s absolutely understandable that you’re hurting.  Your life in real was never screwed, you gave him the power to rumple it. I daresay it was messed up and confusing but never really screwed.” He responded.

“The more you care the more you suffer. Nada zilch there is nothing that gives people the right to play with someone’s feelings and heart or as a matter of fact taking for granted. I’m sorry for all the troubles I've always caused you, even when you were nursing your own broken heart you were constantly there for me. However, would I repay your kindness?” she cried in earnest.

“Is it something we shouldn’t do then? Care?” replied Yasin, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “Do not embarrass me, for rather I am glad to have been there for you, as you have been for me,” he added after a short pause.

Ayah, still being a bit distracted forged on, “I don’t know, it’s an abstract thing. Care is more important than love. You always love people who you care for but the other way round is not always true. Love can be abusive and obsessive, care cannot.” She paused letting go of the anxiety that gripped her, and forced herself to speak; “I’ve realized not to store my happiness nor sadness in people. They leave us when someone new comes along. And maybe even we leave some. It’s a fast forward world Yasin, you can’t find people waiting for you.” 

The conversation had like always reached a point of vulnerability. There was too much said, felt and left unsaid too.

“It taught me to have faith,” said he, “don’t be too sentimental nor wear your heart on your sleeve. People find it easier to exploit you then. But then again don’t become a cold stoic person, who I was on the verge of becoming. Had it not been your frank temperament and playful optimistic outlook, I would have been lost.” 

Ayah colored at that and let out a laugh as she replied, “Ah! Yes, you’ve seen me at my best and my worst too. I should not have brushed off your affections all those years ago, would have saved me the heartache.”

“I was certainly wary and devoid of wisdom. I am sure if I was more open and persistent, things would have been different. And we would have never had the misfortune to cross people who left us scarred. Then again, in retrospection I believe it was for the best. The past teaches us awfully lot, doesn’t it?” he asked in an expecting manner.

“It does, it surely does,” replied she.

Uncovering his hands from the woolen mittens and doing the same with hers, he swiftly stood up proffering his hand to her, “May I have the honor to secure the next dance? I believe it’s a waltz,” Yasin asked her politely with mischief filled eyes.

It was indeed the music for waltz that could be heard playing down in the inn ballroom. A blush rose on her cheeks as she daintily placed her hands in his, “It will be my pleasure Sir,” replied she with elation as he led her to the makeshift dance floor.

She could not help smiling at his ease with her, their delightful companionship and most of all his invaluable support and guidance in her time of need. Time passed tardily as snow covered the whole town white, welcoming bliss in the peak of winter.


-Fatima

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Small Towns


Click clack
The monotonous metro life goes on..

Ignorant secluded
With no one to truly call your own..

Peace serenity
Oh no! You've landed on an alien land..

Truth trust
Please dial the correct code..

Ecstasy contentment
It's to be seen every night and day..

There's so much the quaint little towns can offer
Only if we could abandon the city's galore..

-Fatima

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Mon Amie

We are so foolish, so utterly naive that when someone is good to us, we feel they are the sunshine after rain. Red, orange, green, blue like the colours of the rainbow. And no; no talking about lovers and crushes or someone you're simply attracted to. This is someone you think of as a friend. It is important to be a friend before anything else.

Leap of faith, liking someone and expecting them to reciprocate; that's love. But what about friendship? Do we expect there or cease expectations the moment we befriend. What about wanting to be surprised by an unselfish gesture is it too much to ask, from a very close friend? It's all a twisted labyrinth of strewn hopes and dwindling emotions.  All you wished for was a moment of companionship, sometimes it's too much to ask and other-times it's all you need.


-Fatima


Image Source: http://favim.com/image/419029/

Sunday, November 2, 2014

A Pair of Shoes


rough worn and battered 
travelling from town to town
now lost in archive 


Photo Credits: Oil Painting - A Pair of Shoes by Vincent Van Gogh, 1886.

-Fatima

Monday, October 27, 2014

Distance


I haven't heard from you
In five months
And twenty-eight days

The soft sigh
After a tiring day

The secret smile
That graced your face

Sometimes mirth
Other times rue

The ones I could listen
Even from miles away

I haven't heard from you
For so long
But your voice still resonates.

-Fatima

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Regret


remember the strings?
walk one step coming back two..
sigh, to time gone by

-Fatima

Friday, October 10, 2014

Those Sunlit Nights


The sun was slowly growing dim. They were sitting on an isolated bench eyeing the frozen expanse of the sweet unsalted lake. Days like these were his favourite; snow laden mountains, chilly winds and memories. He often heard people say, winters harden your heart yet to him they bought warmth. A box of nostalgic memories leaving him barren like his favourite oak tree but wrapped in hope.

Letting out a puff of foggy breath he spoke, "Weird isn't it people could never love you, even though you gave them your everything. And still these are the very same people who eventually fall in love with another, hating you and damaging you to the core. So much damage that the world around you thinks you want love in your life; like a love affair or even marriage out of love. When in reality you are questioning love and the idea behind it, whether you will be loved or will love someone. You're scared.."  he hastily ended heaving a sigh.

She held his mitten covered palms in hers tightly not knowing what to respond. How does a grieving heart mend another? She didn't want to lie or maybe she couldn't. It was a short while later that she began speaking her voice soft,

"Sometimes you're hurt to such an extent that even though tears fall from your eyes, there is no pain in your heart. You are numb and all you feel like is to drown yourself in despair, or to hug someone tightly or if you're like me consume caffeine. But sadly none help, not a single one. Moreover the reason due to whom you're in this state, doesn't bother or maybe never did," although her voice verged the near of tears she continued, "I wish to get wet in the rains and pour out all my tears, maybe, maybe then there will be pain and the numbness subside.."

Time passed languidly as she let the tears finally fall, crying for all those moments that made her nostalgic. She cried, cried for them both and truly letting go of the past. Hugging her deeply, he embraced his present as she did hers too. The mellifluous melancholy orchestrated a symphony in cacophony as the sun lastly set.


-Fatima   

Sequel to This

Monday, October 6, 2014

Absence of Joy


breathing shallow breaths
bare soulless standing all alone
withering away in cold

-Fatima


Monday, September 29, 2014

Winter


snow laden mountains
whizzing wisp of wailing wind
barren land remains

-Fatima


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Love Letter Writing Contest: Love, Lost And Found

Note: This story was written in October 2013, for a short story contest. Although I didn't win it, I decided to share it out here. I know it's a bit late but those days my blog was closed and better late than never :)

......

It was half past six and the last rays of sun were slowly setting welcoming the pinkish hues with fading blue, when a knock on the door startled her. Though it was early dusk it was a little uncommon for a visitor at this time. Keeping aside the partly folded clothes, she got up slowly and opened the door.

“Sorry for the late hour madam, these are some letters we accidentally came across.  It seems they were sent years ago but somehow couldn't reach the intended person. They are addressed to a certain Miss Aaliya, can you call her please.” Said the postman.

“It is me. And letters for me? Who would write to me? Anyways thank you.” Aaliya took the letters and stood at the door for a whole minute. Closing the door she headed for her bed and began inspecting the coverings, there were a million questions swarming her mind. The envelope looked rugged, the color too was fading and the ink on the cover was discolored when she caught sight of a faded name. A sudden sense of nostalgia gripped her, flickering with past memories she took the letters with trembling hands and began reading.


July 25th, 1940

Dear Aaliya,

Tough and tumultuous times lie ahead. And so here I am, sitting down to pen down a letter in the hope that all my love reaches you. I am not quite assured that I will have the chance to send this to you anytime soon. Yet I write to keep the faith alive in both you and I.

The sun is going down and we are surrounded with nothing but infinite stretch of gleaming water. I don’t really know where we are at the moment, maybe in the Pacific Ocean. But I don’t wish to discuss the state of affairs here nor the perils of being at war. I wish to feel loved and remain positive.

It’s been such a long time that I last saw you, the twinkle in your eyes and the innocence in your smile. Sometimes I feel I don’t belong here, I feel like coming running back to you. I liked it there, the rainy days and the messy fields. Those carefree days when we sat arm in arm under the banyan tree gazing at the serene blue sky, envisioning  an independent future. There was a kind of magical silence still the calmness didn’t haunt me.

Here too, I gaze at the sky seeing it change colors from time to time. However, my dear I don’t feel the tranquility I felt then. Hours pass by in the silent night as I keep on pondering of the catastrophe awaiting. It is uncertain, even more uncertain than the rains.  And then an unknown fear grips me, what will happen tomorrow? Will a bright sunshine greet me or the night cloak me forever. It is in those moments I question my decision and realization dawns, I chose this mission to protect people, to protect you.

I doubt my sweetheart I can continue anymore, I must at once leave for we’re being called upon. I will write at every chance I get, do not be uneasy for when you don’t receive my letters. I promise to post them the moment my feet touch the land.

Give my love to my father, tell him I’m safe.

Your Beloved,
Imraan

To read the full story please click here.

-Fatima

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Colloquy in Cold

Prelude to this

It was nearing eventide, the quaint cafe at the end of the cobblestone road was nearly vacated. A band of youngsters were crooning to some soft acoustic music filling the café with mellow notes.

She was sitting across him nestling a cup of warm black coffee in the confines of her mitten covered palms. Winters, coffee, conversations and them, they were the only things that remained unchanged in a sea of time, careers and friendships. The only ones they looked forward to every year.  One thing led to another, and laughter breezed through them.

"I suspect highly that sharing our feelings make us raw to being vulnerable. It’s better to not share because sometimes, some things are best locked in the crevices of our hearts and minds. You know it is not good when someone knows us to the point of vulnerability. It’s like they can exploit you and you can’t even put a stop to it," Ayah swift-ed the chat.

Having known each other for the past eight years he was not at all surprised by the sudden change in conversation. Yasin nibbled the last of his biscuit before reciprocating back to her.

"Sometimes you let people know you, and you do that to fight your own loneliness. Some might say, I prefer my solitude but aren't they the same people whose face lights up in the company of others. Aren't they susceptible to vulnerability? The smile that brightens their moment gives away more than words ever can. You know you aren't really vulnerable until you let yourself be."

"I wish I could hug you, but we both know how afraid I am. Afraid to trust someone all over again," she responded softly continuing to gaze outside seeing the rain loudly lashing the window pane.    

-Fatima

Part II

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Deep Within

I lay there wide awake..
Bathing in the pearly light of the moon..
Trying hard to bind myself in shackles..
And hold my heart in a cage..
But yet again today looking at the starlit sky..
Tears slowly stream down my face
As my heart whispers your name..


-Fatima

P.S: Blogging after really long time, feels good to write here again!