22 - Help Me - میری مدد کرو

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"Life is a gamble. You can get hurt, but people die in plane crashes, lose their arms and legs in car accidents; people die every day. You just don't let yourself believe it will happen to you." - Muhammad Ali


We were so high in the sky now that looking down below, I could see nothing but a blanket of clouds. Swirls of grey and clumps of white, all sitting comfortably on lines of blue sky. I leant against the window and watched as we flew through the beautiful sky. It had been two hours of our flight. Two hours of looking out of the window. Two hours of listening to the man sitting next to us read his Quran, page after page after page...

"Are you going to write your speech now?" Daniyal asked, though his full attention was out of the window where we were currently crossing salmon pink skies. Red merging in, like mixing paint, with white splattered across it. The window was covered, for a brief second, as a cloud swept passed it and covered our line of view.

"Yeah, wake me up if I fall asleep this time!" We laughed, but only briefly, as the man reading his Quran gave us a stern glare to tell us to stop. We had to respect his reading, and so we shut our mouths and went back to our own business. Daniyal put his earphones in and began to text Mahmood, back home. He still lived in Skardu, but just like with Hazeema, we still kept in touch. He still had the same patch of land, the same farm, near enough the same animals.

I looked over his shoulder as they chatted away. Neither Daniyal nor I were really one for privacy. We're a married couple, there isn't really anything to hide. Especially from each other.

Tell Aqsa I'm so proud of her!

Daniyal noticed me looking over his shoulder and so there was really no reason to tell me anything. He simply smirked; I winked in response, and he turned back to his phone.

I will

Cannot believe how far you both have come! Mash'Allah

Indeed. It's been a busy few years

Of course it has!
How have your parents been by the way?

They're okay. Abujee's retired from his job, his new medicine didn't make the cut I'm afraid.

Aw, Hazeema will be gutted when I tell her! She really wanted that to work.

We all did.

Well...you can't have everything. I've got to go now, talk later okay?

Definitely, remember to tell Hazeema the news! I don't have her new number...

I will, we will both be watching Aqsa make her speech on Monday!

She'll love that.

Yes she will. Anyway, bye Daniyal. Have a great time in Lahore and give Aqsa my love.

I will. Allah'Hafiz Mahmood.

Allah'Hafiz

"Such a nice man." Daniyal said, looking up from his phone. "Yeah, bless his soul." I agreed, grinning to myself as I remembered the blissful year I had spent with him and Hazeema in Skardu. I took out my notebook, and pulled open the small plastic table attached to the back of the chair in front of me. I dropped my notebook onto it and my pen rolled out. I turned to the first page where MY SPEECH was written in large hand-writing. With the background sound of babies crying and the man beside us chanting Surah Al-Nas, I began to write an introduction. People needed to know who I was, who we were.

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