Previously known as Querencia.
Poets, as often as they say, they said the truth. Love cannot be controlled or planned. It comes like rain on a sunny day; an unseasoned downpour. Like a gust of harsh wind on a heated day. It comes with a painful epi...
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But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste
*** His, whose eyes were closed and were asking ways to find peace were forced open when the doctors came out. Their faces etched with stern gloom. Completely straight, with eyes so sympathetic.
He, who awaited earnestly for a good news was immediately filled with dread, a certain kind of feeling he had never felt before, so strong. He wished and hoped for good.
"We are sorry, but we could not save him...." He was devastated and for a moment his eyes rolled back, sliding down the wall he just stared into nothingness. Too numb and tired he simply nodded his head, accepting fate.
As soon as the doctors left he was worried. He needed a way to disclose this news to her and her now his family. His anxiety was out of his control. He signed all the papers and left only to be back to take away the dead.
☆ There in the Hussain house, he saw her and her mother. He felt his mother-in law's pain. As soon as his footsteps were heard everyone present there whom he did not notice looked up. He was startled to see everyone there including her. His eyes lowered themselves on their own accord. His posture confirmed the bad news to Fatima.
She with slow reluctant steps stood in front of him, he who was shocked knew what she was asking and nodded his head almost invisibly. Staggering back she collapsed and started crying painfully, wretchedly. Her entire being shocked as she saw with her own eyes the man she loved like no one else being taken away from, as if someone had robbed her of oxygen and left her to die a breathless, painful, pitying death. She cried and cried and cried. Everyone else understood what happened and let her cry as much as she can.
Syra's entire universe shook once she realized why was her mother crying. Her heart's shattered pieces were now piercing her chest, paining and hurting her. She writhed in pain and soon enough her eyes bled tears of agony and grief. Her knees gave up on her and her mind conjuring all sorts of memories it can find to keep her pain last long. Her eyes screamed at everyone about how much in pain she is and how she wanted to be in his place. How that one night robbed her off of her father. She blamed herself for his demise. She blamed the circumstances she decided to say yes to marry. She blamed her entire existence for this pain, for her and her family's pain. There was absolutely no other path where she could go. Her every path had been taken away from her. Her roads always lead to her father's smile and now she would never be able to see it. Her hands itched to touch him, itched to feel him under her delicate hands. She longed to see his eyes gleaming with pride for her, she longed to see her father alive and she realized, she would long for this now, as long as she is not breathing her last.
Her brother cried but held himself strong to support his family, a boy who had to turn mature, who did not think of being one so soon, turned mature. He went towards his mother and hugged her, soaking up her tears, he let her cry on his shoulders. Promising that he won't ever hurt her or let any harm come near her.
Fatima Begum stood up and went towards her daughter, she saw her destroyed form, with tears streaming down her face, she cradled her face in her palms and said, "My child, remember we all belong to Allah and so shall we return, your father returned and soon will I. But I want you to stay strong, hold yourself together. You are his tigress, he cannot handle his tigress being weak. He loved you and I love you."
Her mother's eyes despite being teary we're firm and her voice despite being hoarse was stern. She saw the way her mother so desperately wanted her to hold onto her every word. She embraced her mother and cried.
Her brother hugged them from behind and all of them cried for their loss, for a loving father and a devoted husband. All three of them shared their pain in that embrace which did not last long but felt like an eternity.
Everyone present there were the witnesses of their pain and suffering and wished nothing but solace to find them again.
He saw her and wished to end her agony even if he had no end. He could not bear her in pain. His heart pained so much, almost as if someone was crushing it. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to control his labored breathing.
☆ The next day all the Males of the house went and collected the body to give it his final bath. Soon covered in a white kaffan (a white cloth, covering a Muslim's dead body) the body was brought home for his family to glance at one last time.
Everyone including the relatives and neighbors were now present at the house where a death angel just appeared to visit. All waited for the arrival of the dead and prayed for his forgiveness and for his peace. Syra sat numbly in the corner, completely isolated and cold. Her eyes staring at the wall, her thoughts consuming her dreaded self. Her mother read the Quran quietly just like everyone else and she, she could not even move her limb.
Soon enough the males were seen entering and with them came her father, dead. The tears which ceased somewhere around morning made their way back and Syra cried immensely. Rushing towards her father she cried and cried. Her hands touching his face trying to find something that will indicate he is alive. But nothing was there to give light to her hope. She just sat there with her father and stared at him, as if her staring would wake him up and bring him back to her.
