Alfaaz

Chapter 25: Moajaza

Salams people!

How are we doing?

I disappeared, didn't I? Well, like most other times, my reason is "Life happened". Let's leave it at that shall we?

So, I had to go back and read the previous chapter to see where we had reached, cause as things are, in my head the story has gone quite farther, but I haven't written as much. So picking up from where we left, the much awaited phone call! It was like a mini-cliff. Waiting with bated breath to see what they spoke of? * Laughs sadistically *. Let's see about that.

This part, it's called Moajaza. Got a ring to it right?? Moajaza is one of my favorite Urdu words. It means "Miracle" and I absolutely believe in miracles. Each day waking up from death-like slumber is a miracle. Getting out of bed and being able to put one leg ahead of another is a miracle. Stringing sentences together is a miracle. We often fail to see these as they are but take them as regular mundane occurrences. Blessed we are. Moajazas are not just clouds parting and divine light skimming through, they aren't just a person coming back from the dead, they are in every step we take and each breath we are allowed.

Today, the sermon was delivered before the update. Thanks for attending my TED-talk :p

Anyhoo.. Let's take this update forward else I could be on the path to becoming a terrible motivational speaker.

He yawned and took his spectacles off of his tired eyes. Rubbing them gently he shut the fifth book that he had finished during his stay at the hospital. Placing it gently on the bedside table he groaned in frustration. Kicking the sheets, he stood up slowly. Walking towards the window he opened the curtains.

The green blades of grass were turning yellowish-brown. The augment of autumn was evident in the landscape. Sighing heavily, he rested against the glass yearning to be walking on the carpeted earth that clearly beckoned him.

"If we didn't feel pain, would we appreciate the absence of it as much?" Her question rang in his mind. "Would we feel happiness if we never knew a day of its opposite? Would we crave for someone's presence if not for the pangs of loneliness?" She had asked these questions when they had spoken the first time after his ailment was detected. He had remained mum for if he spoke she would hear the fear in his voice. She would feel the lump forming in his throat.

He was a fool to believe she hadn't picked that from his silence. "Don't be sad Shravan." She had said. "Do not weep at fate. We are not so weak are we now?" She had said in a bid to pacify him. He had nodded hoping she didn't expect him to speak.

Hearing his sniffles her heart had almost given away. She wanted to weep with him, tell him all that she had been through, her fears of losing him, but she couldn't break him so. "Shravan? My bespectacled bozo. You were always different, unique. So you went and found an illness no one has ever heard of. You know I still have a headache from reading all of that literature?"