• RAHAT - راحت •
[ Inhal ]
In the hushed corridors of the hospital, Uncle Ram's eyes had flickered open, a sign of recovery. The doctors insisted on keeping him under their watchful eyes for a few more days, a decision that brought a sigh of relief to my anxious heart. Soon, the responsibility of his care would fall on my shoulders, whether in the sacred walls of Lal Mandir or elsewhere.
I had made a silent promise to myself: I would never leave his side.
My train of thought screeched to a halt, jolted by the abrupt silence of the rickshaw's engine. Aariz, who had been by my side all day — shadow and friend intertwined — stepped out of the rickshaw. His hand casually slipped into his pocket, reaching for his wallet. But I was quicker, my fingers already clutching a 500 Rupee note, handing it to the driver before Aariz could protest.
Aariz gave me a look, slightly irked, yet his eyes retained their usual tenderness. Did he even know how to be angry, or was it just impossible for him to direct his anger towards me?
Our walk towards the temple was slow, punctuated by Aariz's subtle, worried glances in my direction. He was afraid I might break under the weight of it all. Little did he know, I had weathered many storms before, the storms I have braved in solitude.
"Should I go upstairs with you to help you pack Uncle Ram's stuff?" His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he focused on the path ahead.
"Yes," was all I managed to reply. How do you explain to someone that they've become an integral part of your life? That they are there to stay? You simply don't.
Suddenly, Aariz froze mid-step, his gaze locked on something beyond the temple's threshold. We were mere steps away from the temple. I craned my neck slightly, seeking a glimpse into his thoughts, trying to decipher the reason behind this abrupt pause.
"What's going on there? Does anyone else live in the temple, besides Uncle Ram?" he asked, his face reflecting the puzzle in his mind.
I turned around to face the temple, only to witness a scene of chaos. A group of men clustered around the stairs, their presence ominous and threatening, like predators circling their prey. They seemed to be after more than just flesh; they were invaders, disruptors of peace, violators of a sacred home.
The street, usually cloaked in a dim, comforting twilight, was now illuminated with an unnatural light. The men, or perhaps more fittingly, monsters, held fire torches, their flames casting a sinister glow.
At that moment, the rest of the world vanished. I dashed towards the temple, propelled by urgency, knowing that every tick of the clock was a step closer to an impending tragedy. My bag slipped from my shoulder, forgotten in the dust, as I left Aariz behind.
"Inhal!" His voice reached out, a distant echo, but his presence or absence held no weight in that moment. I was prepared to confront this alone, as I had with all life's battles. The fear of monsters had long since faded into the background of my existence.
A storm of indescribable fury raged within me as I navigated through the sea of men, reaching the temple's first step. Standing there, I surveyed them — their faces covered with a purpose that seemed to scream of vengeance, of a misguided mission to save. A haunting hush fell over us, broken only when one of them spoke.
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HIJR
RomanceDr. Inhal Tariq still finds herself looking for her lost pieces on empty roads and abandoned homes. An embodiment of strength carrying the weight of an unhealed past. She forbids herself from falling back and breaking down. Aariz Hassan, a man walki...