This is a story of three mysterious characters: Hashim Rajput, Haneen Shirazi, and Armaan Malik. Each of them has a unique personality marked by flaws, yet they all possess an undeniable brilliance. Their past is shrouded in secrets that are profoun...
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Birds were singing there sweet songs or whatever you call them..but they were hurting my ears i want some more sleep..why they have to get up soo early ..i grabed a pillow and placed it on my ears to stop the voice but all in vain..aghhh..i got up with a jerk threw the pillow on the floor..
Still half-asleep, I stumbled my way out of bed and into the washroom. A couple of slapes of cold water hit my face, jolting me awake. I splashed more water on my eyes and tied my hair up into a messy bun, a few loose strands falling over my face. Despite it all, there was no denying she was beautiful - beautifully melancholic. Light, golden skin, with a hint of pink on her cheeks. Staring into the mirror, lost in thought, I was suddenly reminded of the large mirror that covered an entire wall in my room back home.
Yes, my room. That mirror. But it wasn't the mirror that unnerved me; it was what I saw in it, lurking in the corner of that room. Aik wajood kone me se jhankta hoa.
For a moment, I felt a chill run down my spine, my breath caught in my throat.
There it was - that reflection. The same tear-stained eyes, dried tracks of tears etched on her cheeks. The girl was sitting on the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, arms wrapped around them tightly... the same girl from the mirror, looking back at me with a hollow gaze.
"Haneen ,bas kar do kia tum thori thori der baad dar sy kanone lagti hoon..tum ab woh haneen nahi ho" she took a deep breath. "Haneen, stop it! Why do you flinch in fear every two seconds?" she scolded herself. "You're not the same Haneen who used to say, 'whatever happens, happens.' Death is inevitable, but what comes before that is something I can't bear to watch."
Why is it that our past never lets us go? Why does it love us so much, refusing to leave us in peace? It neither lets us live nor die, tormenting us every moment. As Haneen thought of this, all those painful, terrifying memories rushed back - the anguish, the loneliness.
A dark, closed room... her lifeless body lying next to the bed. The final memory - her form bound to the bed, tied with ropes. She raised her gaze, which she had kept lowered until now, and along with the water droplets, beads of sweat appeared on her face. Her heart raced, her chest rising and falling, feeling like it might burst right out. For a moment, she thought she was having a heart attack and was about to die. She tightened her grip on the shelf for support.
She stood, slightly bent forward, and thought, "How many years have passed? How many years... yet the past hasn't gone away." Sometimes, I wish someone would snatch my memory from me, take away all my recollections, leave nothing behind - no fear of losing someone, not even the fear of losing myself - just peace. But that can never happen. This mind, it's the cruelest enemy of a person. It thinks so much that one day it might burst, and that will bring peace. It finds pleasure in all this, preferring to dwell in the darkness of the past, no matter how bright the present might be.
