Zehal-e-Miskeen - A Tale of Lost Love [part 2 link, page 23] - Page 10

Originally posted by: mayyo

I was actually confused if it was the Urdu word for pen or if it was the Urdu word for conversation. Thanks for clearing it! 😊

Chapter 9 - Be Ishq Anmeh

The fire of love...

Dev stood on the edge of the clifftop, the city laid out before his feet. An unlit cigarette was in his mouth, the mere feel enough to satisfy the cravings that Maan had re-ignited with his regular usage.

"Deep down, you have a soul. A soul that you locked away when you set upon this path, but the soul is still there."

"Of course I have a soul. I am alive. I am breathing. I'm deeply in love with my wife."

"Was she ever yours to begin with?"

"She adores me."

"She adores the persona you adapted. She doesn't know who the real Dev is. She doesn't know who the real Geet is. You moulded her into how you wanted her to be."

"What's with the sudden guilt trip now? You didn't think about all of this before. And even if you did, your obsession with her was enough to overpower all thoughts of morality, right?"

There was a deafening silence. He rolled the cigarette between his fingers.

"Or has the arrival of your beloved brother re-awakened your conscience?"

He tapped on the cigarette, feeling the nicotine beneath the rolls of paper.

"Seeing the pain of his evident loss in his eyes?"

A stone rolled off the edge of the cliff and into the abyss of the trees below.

"Or does she scare you? The Geet trapped behind the Geet you created for yourself. Behind her eyes which search for you, lies the eyes that saw nothing else but Maan."

He put the cigarette back into his mouth, letting his lips cling onto the roll as one would cling onto their last drop of water.

"A voice inside that wrecked mind of yours is giving you the blaring signs of the inevitable."

"You brought this upon yourself. You set the ball rolling, now the chips will fall where they were destined to fall."

He turned his back on the view of the sprawling city beneath him and made his way to his car. Before he reached his door, he threw Maan's stolen cigarette aside.

"Time to return home."

***

"I'll close my eyes if that helps."

Maan was sat opposite Geet, whose profile was partially covered by her easel. All he could see was the glimpse of her honey eyes, the rise of her cheekbone, half of her pert nose and the beauty spot aoove the curve of her lip. The sight was more than enough to quench his thirsty eyes.

"It's not that... I haven't done this with anyone sitting directly in front of me." He watched as she swirled a mixture of paints in her palette, her hands guiding the brushstrokes gently.

"Pretend I'm not here."

She remembered her frantic painting last night, the one that had haunted her throughout the early hours of the morning and played at the back of her mind even now. It was that memory that was preventing her from putting brush to easel. She had shut the world out and left herself alone with her ever racing mind, and it had provided her with an image that she would probably never be able to shake off.

"No, I er... I think it will be easier if I can see you, actually."

"Do you want some tea or coffee?"

She shook her head. "I don't prefer to take anything in order to enhance my creative energy. Everything that comes out on paper, should be from the submergences of the heart, mind and whatever runs through your veins as they course to your fingertips, like a burst riverbank waiting to be streamed."

He smirked. "You're quite the poet as well."

"I tried my hand at writing here and there. I'm sorry, I must be boring you. I should get on with the task."

"Not at all, I find it fascinating and relaxing." Their eyes briefly locked, and a jolt of something set off its spark inside her. The force of the feeling was enough to make her quickly flit her eyes away from him and began painting.

He had witnessed how drastically her expression had changed, and wondered if his strategy was coming to fruition. He certainly hoped so, for he wanted nothing more than for Geet to break away from the doppelgnger identity that had controlled her life for so long.