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
