Complications of Heart

8

"Phir?" Samir spoke out. He felt they were near the end. An end that was meant to be and in somewhat bittersweet as he saw the traitorous tears welling up in Biha's eyes.

--

0.00 hours to go

The sky had turned a shade of peachy orange announcing the arrival of the awakened sun. Slight sounds of birds could be picked up from the canopies with an insistent fluttering of wings. The lush green shade above them sparkled as the rays kissed them. It looked magical. It felt magical.

Yet, Sabiha was far away from this beautiful enigma of nature.

"So this is it?" Turning on his heels, his back faced the wall. They were at the end.

"Yeah." She said, trying to let nothing slip past.

"What's 'Thank you' in Pashto?" He asked again with a smile.

"Manana" She returned a smile of her own.

Tasting the words on his mouth a couple of times, he gave his thanks.

Climbing up in a swift motion, he was ready to jump on the other side, when he turned around to look down at her. Her heart stopped at that once. This was it, but an irrational part hoped and wished for something magical.

"You good to go or need any help?" He offered.

"I will be fine, Darman. Remember rebellious." Pointing her finger to her face. Their light chuckles sung through the dewy morning of Kashmir as the forest witnessed a new tale of Sabiha.

"Well, I guess this is it." He sealed the deal. "And by the way, there are far better boys in this world than me who would be bloody lucky to call you his. You will bag yours soon." Passing a cheeky smile, he disappeared just like-

--

"- a magic charm." She concluded her tale as Samir looked at her with emphatic eyes. He never experienced heartbreak, but even hearing and seeing Sabiha, he felt his heart being laid down on broken fragments of a mirror.

"What did you do?"

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes to settle her overwhelmed self. It was hard to put it out, but she didn't regret it. It was anything but that. She felt empty but lighter. She felt demolished, but the pieces could be joined. It would take time, however, she will be there.

"I couldn't climb that wall. I stayed rooted at that spot because I knew that if I crossed it, I would run to him and say whatever I felt. I couldn't do that to him. To her as well." Her silvery voice resonated through the space they had.

"So, I went back. To the house. God, their faces when they saw me." She lightly laughed as the memory resurfaced. Samir joined in as well.

"Questions were grilled, ranging from where were you to why were you out. But I simply went ahead to Dada's room.

Upon seeing my state, I guess he knew I tried to run away. My and Darman's family entered after a while as soon as they realized Darman was not there. His father was furious, so was my Dad as well. But throughout all, Dada was quiet.

Hell broke loose when I said I helped him escape. Mothers gasped and said incomprehensible things about why-s and how-s. Fathers are close to getting their guns. You get the idea right, Pashtun blood." She collectively took a pause.

"Then, surprisingly, Dada asked all to get out of his room. All except me. We both sat down across from each other. Several minutes passed by before he spoke. I was ready for his anger, his bitterness and so many other negative things. Yet, they never came, except..." Thinking back to that day, her mind swirled. Her Dada was an admirable man. Always was.

"Except?" Samir pushed.

"Except 'Why did you come back?'" She replied. "I thought of the reason I came back and my eyes started becoming blurry while my throat clogged up. All I could say was that I couldn't go. I couldn't go because I knew better. Because I knew the end before even knowing and hoping for a beginning.

He sat ominously quiet for a minute before saying, 'He is a good lad, isn't he?' He passed me a smile and patted my head as I silently gulped down my tears. I didn't need to tell him. Because he knew." Her croaky tone could easily be picked up by Samir.

"And after that, he went out, said to every member to not question me or Darman because he failed to see the wishes of the young ones by being blinded by a promise; he hoped that whatever happened will not affect this sacred bond of friendship and kinship that our family nurtured. He further said to our parents to accept and respect our decisions. In a way, Dada helped us, Darman and me, to settle within our family without any friction."

"Lastly, jab meri baari aayi, he said- 'Sabiha, kuch mulaqatein aisi hoti hain jo dil mein bas jaati hain. Aap na unhe bhool sakte hain, na hi kisi dor se bandh sakte hain. Lekin, aap unhe waqt de sakte hain. Waqt de unhe apna banae, phir aapko tor dene ke liye. waqt de, taake wo aapko ehsaas dila sakein, rulane ke liye. Aur wapt de, taake ek din unhe kisi haseen shaam mein yaad karein - lekin is baar, ek muskurahat ke saath unka khair maqdam karein' "

(When my turn came, he said - 'Sabiha, there are some meetings that take root in your heart. You can neither forget them nor bind them with any thread. But you can give them time. Time to make them yours, only to break you apart later. Give them time to make you feel, to being you to tears. And give them time so that one day, you may remember them on a beautiful evening - but this time, welcome them with a smile.')

"You are gonna reach there, Biha." Samir spoke. Both passed each other a smile, as their journey back home took on.

As he looked outside their window, Samir understood why she said that back in the class

--

It was their last class of the day. The professor started to see their project's progress while throwing in some suggestions and approvals.

The rest of the class was chattering until the Professor asked a question. In his hands, he held the project of Tessa, one of their classmates, who had chosen to take on the effects heartbreak has on the brain system. Apparently, heartbreak triggers a similar psychological impact on the brain similar to a condition of getting punched.

"Tell me, do you want to get punched or heartbroken?" The whole class went quiet.

"Punched, Sir." Her ringing voice made Samir, Laila and everyone else in the room look at her. While she stared, unfazed, at the Professor.

"Why so, Sabiha?" He probed.

"Because when you get punched, you know the time period of the pain you endure. You know you are going to heal." She replied.

"Who agrees with her?" He asked as his eyes gave a check on the class in front of him.

Again no answer.

Then he said, "Then none of you have been broken yet."

--

Well, the end is always a bittersweet moment. 

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