Kahani Hamari Fasana Hamara

Chapter 2

Faraj Ayad

I heard somewhere that "For every heartfelt dua whispered in tahajjud carries the promise of dawn's answer."
The woman who haunted my dreams, with her beautiful brown eyes, appeared to be the gentle dawn of a cozy autumn day. I once thought it was just a common eye color until I looked into hers. My mind wandered into a realm of loss I had never experienced before. There she stood before me, a vision of beauty so ethereal that I feared I might wake up and lose her.

3 years ago,
1 August

It was around 10 o'clock at night, and I was exhausted from working on a design. The rain was pouring heavily outside. I glanced through the window just as a bright flash split the sky, followed instantly by a deafening rumble. Through the downpour, I noticed a figure sitting outside. Straining my eyes, I couldn't make out who it was. Curiosity overpowered me, and, like a fool, I grabbed an umbrella and headed towards the person on the bench just outside my office building.

She was a woman. My footsteps made her turn in my direction, She glanced down as I approached. I stood in front of her, holding the umbrella over her head. When she looked up, our eyes met. Her eyes were filled with tears, which mingled with the rain streaming down her face. Her long hair was drenched, and her clothes clung to her, soaked through by the downpour.

She looked down again, avoiding my gaze as I studied her. I felt both helpless and awkward, unsure of what to do. An overwhelming urge to comfort her washed over me, but I was at a loss.

I tried to think of something to say, holding the umbrella out in front of her, hoping she might take it. But she shook her head. I closed the umbrella and sat on the bench beside her, creating some distance. The cold water hit my face, and I closed my eyes for a moment. I felt her gaze on me, and with a sigh, I spoke the words that slipped from my lips.

"Emotions are weakness," I said quietly.

"It's a very sympathetic thing to say to someone who is crying," she said dryly, looking away.

I hid my smile at her response, captivated by the gentle timbre of her voice that mirrored the grace of her face. As I sat in the silence, I watched the rain gently cascade onto the street before us, the air rich with the scent of petrichor. With each drop that fell, I stole glances back at her.
Interesting

"Heartbreak?" I paused before adding "Has someone broken your heart?"

"What makes you think I'm going to trust you and share my problems?" she said sharply, her voice edged with suspicion.

She wore a white tank top and straight black pants, an olive green jacket draped over her shoulders. The rain had slowed, but my suit jacket was completely soaked.

"I guess you're trusting me enough since you're still here," I replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

There was something about her that made me want to look at her, to talk to her, and to hear her voice. I felt a strong desire to get to know her, to understand her completely.

"You're just a stranger," she said, raising an eyebrow as her gaze locked with mine. Her voice was laced with a mix of curiosity.

"I'm Faraj," I replied, my eyes drifting away from her stare, focusing instead on the emptiness around us.

Why had I bothered to say my name? I must have seemed like a creep to her.

"Is that how you ask for someone's name?" she asked, her tone flat and indifferent.

She was no longer crying; the streetlight cast a soft glow on her, highlighting the quiet pain etched on her face. She seemed numb, and in that instant, I immediately regretted every word I had said. Did I truly lack the skills to talk, to comfort, to say the right things when it mattered most? The silence between us felt heavy. I took a deep breath before saying.