Amidst A Thousand Suns

~a rythm to live by~

Aaghyaa's P.O.V.

~~~

The overly excited grin on my face was reduced to a polite smile when Alfaaz's mom opened the door to her house instead of him.

"Hello, aunty! How are you?"

"Hi, beta. I am fine. Come on in.", she said and moved to the side to let me in.
I removed my footwear and entered.

"Came to see Alfaaz, eh?", she asked.
I nodded and she pointed to the wooden spiral stairs that lead up to his room.
"He's up."

"Is he studying? Because if he is, I don't want to disturb-"

"Ae sheesh! No! He isn't studying right now. In fact, he just came from his tution classes and is in no mood to study.", she giggled.

I chuckled out a breath and started climbing up the stairs.
I don't know why but I become all anxious and squeamish when it comes down to talking to someone.
Even though I have known aunty for quite a while now, I get awkward while talking to her.
It took me so much time to get properly comfortable with Alfaaz himself.
God, I am so awkward! What will I do when I will finally face the world?

Climbing up the stairs was a sport in itself for me, because when I reached the top, I was panting for breath.
No, I didn't need my pump, deep breathing would do it for now, but yes, it did effect me if I had to do a little more excercise than just walking.

All I can say is, it's getting worse day-by-day.
I noted this point to say to the doctor during my regular meet at the hospital that was due in just a few days.

I stopped my hand from turning the doorknob open to his room when I heard a soft humming coming from the other side.

I have heard Alfaaz singing his heart and soul out in front of me and a bunch of people, mostly strangers.
But, what does he sound like when no one is listening to him?

'harr dua mein shaamil tera pyaar hai,
bin tere lamha bhi dushwar hai,
dhadkano ko tujhse hi darkar hai...'

A soft, quite breeze.
That's how his voice felt like.
Unlike the hard, soulful tone with which he often sang, this one was meant to touch you like a soft breeze on a sunny day, linger on for a little while and then leave you when the next note was heard again; the freshness of the next one compensating for the absence of the previous one.
His soothing voice coupled with the soft tunes of the guitar, urging you to lay down with your eyes closed with your lips humming the song while he continued to sing and play for you, just beside you.

Before I constructed a whole-ass poem on his voice solely, I turned the knob and the door creaked open.
He was sitting on his chair, his guitar on his lap while his legs were on his table, his whole body facing the window and light air that blowed and ruffled his messy hair.
I entered a step or two inside his room so as not to disturb his musical trance.

'tujhse hai raahatein,
tujhse hai chahatein...'

Though his eyes were far off outside the window, he had a small, knowing smile playing on his lips, as if he knew about my mischief that I was secretly eavesdropping while he sang.

He looked at me straight into the eye when he sang;

'tu jo mili,
ek din mujhe,
mein kahin ho gaya lapata...'