aab e hayat ( English version)

chapter no 3

Salar blinked and opened his eyes. The room was completely dark. He couldn't immediately understand where he was. His ears caught the announcement of the dawn from a distant mosque. As he searched the pitch-black room with his open eyes, the next thought that crossed his mind was about the dream and the Imam. He had been dreaming, which was what had awakened him.

He couldn't remember what he was going to show the Imam in his dream. The Imam seemed to stop for a moment, like the beat of his heart. Where was he? Was last night just a dream? He suddenly woke up, as if struck by an electric current. With his paused breath, he turned on the bedside table lamp with a frenzied action. 

The darkness in the room seemed to vanish instantly. He turned quickly to his right and felt a deep sense of relief. His paused breath resumed. She was there. He hadn't transitioned from one dream to another.

Suddenly, as the bright light from the bedside table lamp fell on his face, the Imam, still half-asleep, instinctively covered his eyes and face with his hands and arms. Salar turned and dimmed the lamp's light. He didn't want to wake him up. 

He was just a few feet away, in a deep, peaceful sleep. One of his hands was resting under his face on the pillow, and the other was covering his eyes at that moment. His half-open palm and wrist were adorned with beautiful henna patterns. Faded patterns, yet still making his hands and wrists look beautiful. Salar remembered that the henna had been applied for someone else. A smile appeared on his lips.

He involuntarily closed his eyes for a few moments. For someone else?

Once again, the previous evening had passed before his eyes like a scene from a film, in thousands of seconds. He had seen this face in Saeeda Amma's presence after nine years, and those nine years seemed to have vanished somewhere.

He leaned forward slightly and gently moved his hand away from his face. In the yellow light of the bedside table lamp, he bent over him, just a few inches away, and kept looking at him intently. It was as if she was breathing life into him with each deep breath she took. Looking at her felt like he had reached a magical realm. In an immensely subtle manner, he carefully brushed away a few strands of hair from the Imam's face with his fingers.

Imama's eyes opened with the sound of the alarm. With sleepy eyes, she tried to turn off the alarm on the bedside table while lying down, but instead of turning it off, the alarm clock fell onto the carpet below. Imama's sleep disappeared instantly. 

The sound of the alarm seemed to be mounting on her nerves. She shouted out and got up. Turning on the bedside table lamp, she emerged from the blanket and shivered uncontrollably. It was very cold.

 As she removed the blanket, she tried to find her woolen shawl by bending towards the foot of the bed, but it wasn't there. She bent down to look at the carpet. She remembered that she had placed the shawl on the sofa last night, but at that moment, she didn't dare to leave the bedroom. The alarm was still ringing, but she still couldn't find it.

 Her irritation grew. Then, suddenly, she thought of looking at Salar's bed. It was empty. It was as if she suddenly remembered where she was. The irritation vanished instantly, along with the sound of the alarm... It was dawn. Imama was at Salar's house, and it was the first day of her new life.

She sat back down on her bed. She tried to cover her shoulders with one corner of the blanket. The shivering of her body eased a little. For the first time, she looked closely at the things on her bedside table. There had been a clock there last night, which Salar had placed, but it was no longer there. 

There was a small writing pad and a pen. Nearby was a cardless phone. A small bottle of water was also there, along with her cell phone. She thought once again about the alarm clock. She remembered that she hadn't set the alarm; it was supposed to be Salar's responsibility. Perhaps he had set the alarm for himself.

Then, as if a jolt occurred in her mind, she realized that the side of the bed she had chosen to sleep on last night was Salar's bed. She had naturally moved to the right side, and Salar hadn't stopped her. She sat quietly for a while, then picked up her cell phone in a very casual manner to check the time and, as if jolted by an electric shock, threw off the blanket. There were only ten minutes left until Sehri, and Salar must have set the alarm to wake her up. She felt a surge of frustration; he could have woken her himself.

By the time she changed her clothes and went to the lounge, her anger had vanished. At least today, she wanted to meet him in a pleasant mood. There was food for Sehri set out on the dining table in the sitting area. She quickly went to the kitchen to get some dishes, but she was taken aback to see used dishes from two people in the sink. 

The food must have come from Furqan's house, and she had already eaten with Furqan. She had foolishly assumed that on her first Sehri at his house, he would share it with her. With a heavy heart, she picked up a plate and went to the dining table, but she could only manage a few bites. She should have at least waited for him today... she should have eaten with him. Imama was genuinely very disappointed.

After just a few bites, she started removing the dishes from the table with great reluctance. While washing the dishes, the call to prayer began, and it was then that it first occurred to her that Salar was not to be seen in the house. While washing the plate in her hand, she left it in the sink and went outside. She searched the entire house, but he was not there. Then, after a thought crossed her mind, she went to the outer door. The door was locked, but the door chain had been removed.

He was not at home. Where could he be? She hadn't thought about it. Her sense of disappointment grew. How could he so carelessly disappear, leaving her alone at home on the second day of their marriage? Everything from the previous night seemed like a deceitful plan. Returning to the kitchen, she looked at the dishes in the sink for a while, overwhelmed by a deep sense of defeat. She had become a wife, no longer just a beloved.

Not so quickly, though. Even if he didn't have any pride, he should have at least cared. Something else had been added to his absence. How could someone change so much in a few hours, but at night, his discontent was only growing? Surely, he must be lying; otherwise, he would have cared a little. That discontent was now turning into shock. She had finished her prayer, but there was still no sign of Salar. She was a bit concerned. If he had gone for the Fajr prayer, he should have returned by now. Then she shook off this concern from her mind."

This passage seems to reflect a growing unease and a sense of betrayal or neglect, with the character struggling to come to terms with the situation.