Sparks die too
- the whole story is set in Pakistan-
I nervously strode through the crowd; sweat was plastered to my forehead and my heartbeat rising and falling in a quick rhythm. Crowd was not an ultimate definition of comfort for me; at least not at that moment. In the conscious and sub-conscious of my mind, there was something; an entity, which made my instincts fearful of experiencing fragrance, happiness, life and almost everything a sane man can count. But sane is always an exaggeration, isn't it? Everyone has that hidden insanity that snickers from the veil of your soul and peeks out when the time is right.
Walking up the stage, my nervousness eased down a bit to see my childhood friend standing at a distance, in a simple yet exquisite beige Kurta Shalwar. As soon as he noticed me approaching him, he smiled and then embraced me in a hug.
"Hashim," Adil's words held a distinct amusement. "I don't believe it! You have finally made it."
"It's not like you marry every day, mate," I said, getting surprised by the sense of humor that my own words delivered. "Of course, I've come to your wedding".
His attention got diverted as he was approached by other guests. He greeted them and then turned back towards me. "Make yourself comfortable here. You can sit with my colleagues over there." He pointed towards a round table at the front with four men sitting around it.
"They'll give you a good company. Let me know if you need anything." He patted my shoulder slightly. He whispered a thank you and then went back to greet other guests.
I walked down the stage but didn't sit with Adil's colleagues. Even if they had have been of my acquaintance, I would have avoided any sort of company that required talking and fake smiling, an act that is a waste of time and energy. So, I settled at the end of the hall, where things were more silent and words often amplified into echoes.
As the time passed on, my mind became more and more of a chaos; the laughter of people, their eyes that held falseness, the flood of bright lights, I was struck by a wave of reminiscence. It felt like, I was drowning deep inside myself; the shore of my pains colliding with the waves of past. It had been the delicacy of that precise moment due to which I realized that I had to leave. I mentioned it to Adil but without listening to my real problem, he insisted me on staying. He had been so supportive and it was his day, so I stayed for his sake. I wish you had called me somewhere else for a reunion, Adil. I thought to myself. Not here.
Adil's friends had managed some fireworks show outside the hall. Fireworks had become their family tradition; every Mehndi function came to an end with fireworks. I had heard Adil's young cousin talking about it and that was the second time I decided to leave for good. I had to leave; it was a must the moment the word firework was mentioned. But then again, Adil didn't hear me out. He did not understand. He was overwhelmed by happiness; happiness that hid the facet of my anecdote under it.
I stood outside, insisted into staring at the black sky that was soon to be colored. I was already frightened. Adil, who was standing to my right, shifted from my side towards his Uncle. I knew I had no other choice. So, I made up my mind; this was it, I was leaving without a word. But as I turned to leave, it was too late. What I had dreaded came alive. The fireworks stormed high in the sky and roared with a force. My gaze automatically shifted from the gloomy road to the source of the loud blast. My whole body shivered and went numb; breath was stuck in my throat.
Orange. Yellow. Red. Fire. Burn. Scream—Death. That was all that swirled around in my mind. My head was going to explode. I could hear screams, conversations and all those cries in my mind. Tears swelled in my eyes but they didn't dare to betray me by jumping out. Instead, I just stood there, staring at the colors that revealed to me the spectacular image of the wounds in my heart. It felt like ages had gone by, as my heart longed for some warmth, but it hadn't.
