Endless Love
First shot
Zaroon's own eyes stared back at him, imbuing his heart with that memory which enabled him to triumph over that traumatic incident whose memory was incapable to being put up with, over the last ten years. His eyes became glassy for the water had successfully made it to the edge of those cascades and surging to flow down as he looked at the masterpiece brought to life by the artistic hands of his dexterous artist wife Kashaf. The large picture frame hanging on top of the bed, augmenting the wondrous aura of their appealing bedroom, was in a league of its own and close to his heart, not because it was her first Valentine gift for him after marriage, neither because it was a painting of him. That picture had always been a souvenir of arrant comfort as well as an enduring perception to him that he was the love of her life; her inamorato for eternity. "I draw what I love; My passion." That's what Kashaf would always say about her drawings and depictions of nature that was not her profession but hobbies at which she indeed was a dab hand. The memory of that unprecedented day collided with the others replaying in his mind, begetting the massive explosion of emotions that rushed through every fibre of his being.
They say that bad memories make you cry, but Life's ironic and the fact is, it's the happiest of memories that would drag you toward the pool of tears- It was not the first valentine's day of their lives, probably the first one with they being saturated in each other's love thrice profoundly. There was no constraints, no impediment, no stones left in their life, which though was not perfect, yet wonderful like a fairy tale owning the two of them as one soul and the ocean of their unconditional undearment. They wished each other first thing in the morning, in the best possible way a man and wife can. A few hours later Kashaf was getting dressed in a saree, when Zaroon popped up in front of her eyes, "Kashaf, let me make you wear this saree!" He said, excitement etched in his face as he smiled like a child that was about to play his favourite game. Knowing from last experience where this saree session could lead to, Kashaf gave him a haughty look, sufficient for him to learn that she wasn't buying his idea. "No, thank you. I can man..." he showed off his lightning quick reflexes, as he hastily grabbed hold of the saree from her hand, without giving her a chance to finish her sentence . "Tum ye taiyaar hona, saree pehanna mere liye karti ho na, to tumhara shohar hone ke hawale se, it's my duty of share work to you." His lips curved up on one side in half sexy smile, that toyed with mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Oh!! My loving, caring and responsible husband, where does your so called duty go when I spend My weekends cleaning up the mess you make of the entire house, hmmm? She spoke, pulling his cheeks, making a way out of his lips for a hysterical laugh. Zaroon chuckled and began laughing, at that point she too joined him in the laughter, before she began speaking again, "Morever, if it was for you, I wouldn't clothe myself with anything." Zaroon was a bit surprised at her statement, but then she had every right to be naughty and smutty with him. "Whooo, tumhare iraade mujhe nek nahi lag rahe. Control biwi control jab tak mai shaam ko wapas ghar nahi aa jata." Winking , he added. This made them burst into laughter once again.
Kashaf suddenly heaved a sigh of surprise, then let out a gasp of pleasure, experiencing the soft touch of his rough fingertips against her velvety skin, as he tucked the top edge of the plain end of the saree into the waistband of her skirt without warning. Proceeding further, his adept hands draped the saree around her lower body, meanwhile Kashaf took notice of his expressions, frowns, sighs and smiles. And then putting the finishing touch on his work he put the palla of the saree neatly on her left shoulder. "Done!" he spoke. Placing hands on her shoulders, he stepped back a little. Sliding his gaze up and down her body, he gave his wondrous work a final check, "Hmmm. Perfect. I'm too good!" He praised himself as if he had defeated Alexandar the Great in a battle.
Kashaf's eyes gleamed with joy of the sight of her husband's handsome face, which at the moment looked like a child's. Without further ado, she hugged him tight and spoke, "Uff Zaroon! Tumse jyada khud ki taarif karne wala insaan puri duniya me kahi nahi hoga! Lekin fir bhi I..." "Love you so much." He completed her statement.
"Hey?" he whispered, as he detached her upper body from his. "Hmm?" she looked at him questioningly. He took a small red velvet casket out of his pocket and handed it to her by saying, "A gift on the day of love, bilkul meri biwi jaisa khoobsurat aur shandaar."
Had it been possible to pluck the stars from the sky, Zaroon would have definitely brought one for her, ergo he chose the star on the earth- a round brillian cut diamond, which bagged him a look of surprise on her face, twinkle in her eyes followed by her divine smile. He bit his fervent lips at the innocent, or more like a sensuous sight. Unable to hold back the sudden sensation that set the urge to eat that sweet thing off her lips on fire, he grabbed her, pulling her closer to him, and let out a loud groan as her knee crashed into his thigh. Blood rushed to her cheeks as he stifled her soft moans when he smashed his lips into hers and kissed her repeatedly. In no time the room was filled with her silky moans mingled with his smacking groans.
Later on at the mention of his Valentine gift, he was dragged out of the house for office with a promise of surprise gift once he return.
By lunchtime various guesses and assumptions about the surprise had almost eaten up Zaroon's brain. Talk about heavy diet of bollywood romance, he came back home in the hope of getting surprised with romantic candlelit dinner follow by their sensuous love making under dim lights and aroma of scented candles, with red and white rose petals and heart shaped ballons scattered everywhere around the room to behold their empyrean love. But, As soon as he stepped into his room his grin which had been giving tough competition to the chesire cat a moment ago, jumped out of the window, for there was no light of even a white pillar candle, let alone scented candles and roses. The shine on his face turned off like a lightbulb turned off due to a power outage. His patience began to snap. Grumpy, he began to turn around to call Kashaf at the top of his voice, and there he caught it, his gift which left him bereft of speech and rooted to the spot in surprise for a minute or two. "Pasand aya tumhe?" at her voice, he managed to move and turned back toward her. She was standing there with an apron tied around her waist, a wooden spatula in her right hand, patches of white flour on her cheeks; aftermaths of baking his favourite coffee cake. He was amazed at how even her messy look turned out a beautiful and delightful sight to behold. "Pasand? Zaneman ye shayad mere zindagi ka ab tak ka sabse khoobsurat tohfa hai!" he said, his baritone voice soft, like a caress. "Acha? Fir shayad tumhe mujhe shukriya khna chaiye?" She said, there was a challenging glint in her eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by Zaroon. Chuckling he walked up to her. With a stroke of his fingers, he tucked her hair behind both of her ears, then cupping her face in his hands, he whispered "Shukriya," before placing feathery kiss on her forehead, "Shukriya," He whispered again, placing light kiss on her eyelids. He kissed her on nose, cheeks; everywhere on her face, whispering Sweet shukriya before every kiss.
Kashaf was so riveted by the avalanche of his velvety kisses that she simply couldn't realize when she was pulled into his arms in a tight embrace, her head rested against his chest as she listened to his beating heart, she was drunk on his male scent, his fragnant cologne. Her head spun and she slid her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoes, and leaned in to devour his lips.
Sleep forgot to hit the door of Zaroon's eyes that night, or perhaps, the colossal elation shaking a leg inside his frame had deprived him of it. Beaming, he kept on watching her innocent sleeping face and the painting alternately.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That was one of the most beautiful days of his life, but today, on their twelfth Valentine's she was not by his side, to make plans with him, and surprise him with her artistry. His heart became heavy, vacillating between gratifying remembrance and dolour. When he could handle the heaviness of his heart no longer, he dropped down onto the foot of the bed, covered his face with his palms, and let his heart shed its sorrow out, through his eyes.
A dreadful accident had crippled his heart and turned his life topsy-turvy. To Zaroon it seemed worse than death at the time. The tragic irony of life absconded with his love and happiness all of a sudden, splashing the reality of life into his face that we all are mere puppets in the hands of destiny. Five years of wedding bliss, and they were full of beans, cocooned in the prepetuity of endearment. It was a proud day for Kashaf having touched new heights in her career, being promoted to company's new CEO, that too at just 30. Zaroon indeed was a proud husband, so overjoyed at remarkable achievement of his wife, that very proudly he shared the news with all his friends and his office staff. He took off early from work, and decided to surprise her with something he hadn't done for her before, about which he didn't have to scratch his head much as the answer popped up promptly and that was Cooking.
"And now we add some water, so that it doesn't burn." He said, talking to his two year old daughter Ruhi, sitting in her high chair at a safe distance from gas stove, eyeing her Daddy fight the Pan with Spatula, warily. Considering the amount of water he added into bindi, he was complete novice in cooking. Just as he dalloped salt into bhindi, the baby squealed, hitting her forehead with the inside of her little fingers, as if she had caught the boo-boo, Daddy dear had just made.
Kashaf was just a few miles away to eat the most weird bhindi , when a drunken truck driver, coming from the other direction, hit her car, it flipped over again and again and landed by the side of the road upside down, with a crash. Kashaf was taken to the nearest hospital immediately.
Zaroon was rolling out the dough like a reuleaux triangle, when his phone rang up and the very nexy minute he was running out of the house for the hospital like a maniac.
He reached the hospital in no time and was forced to wait outside while doctors were doing their best to resuscitate his wife and bring her back from the edge of death. Alternating between sitting on a bench outside the operation theatre and pacing up and down the corridor in fear and trepidation, he prayed for her well being and speedy recovery. He didn't know why but he felt angry at himself, maybe he was angry at his misfortune. First his parents and now his bad luck was behind his Kashaf. After 8 hours of emergency surgery, which seemed like ages to Zaroon, the door of the operation theatre creaked and the doctor came out. Zaroon immediately stood up from the bench and went speechless. Doctor looked into his eyes. A hodgepodge of fear, unsaid queries and hope had flooded them with unshed tears.
After exhaling a long deep breath, doctor managed to enounce words,"The injury to her head was grave. The good news is that she's alive and the bad news is that she had slipped into coma after surgery."
Zaroon's heart stopped beating for a few seconds, his senses, his organs; his entire body had been paralyzed by the stroke of bad luck for a moment. Somehow he limped toward doctor and asked in a low, shaky voice, "What are the chances of her recovering fully?"
"To be honest, the chances of her pull through it are unknown, it could be days, months, years, forever or...never." Doctor replied, pausing for a second before never, patting him consolingly on shoulder, his voice full of commiseration at his plight. " he continued, "You have to be strong. Hope is the elixir..." "I want to see My wife doctor", Zaroon interrupted distressingly. "Ok, in an hour." Came the reply.
Kashaf had been shifted to special ward. Zaroon trod slowly to her room in choked desolation. Taking a deep breath, he called on all his courage, before walking in. As soon as he stepped into the room, a tornado of emotions ripped through him- anger, sorrow, fear and anxiety. None willing to wait for its turn in line. Devastating dread ploughed through him, and he couldn't hold himself straight. He stumbled backward until his back hit the door and slipped down to the floor. Tears welled up from the bottom of his soul, found their way out his eyes and ran unchecked.
His spry, sparkling Kashaf, whose smile was his happiness, and voice his music laid there in the hospital bed lifeless, bandages wrapped around her forehead, bruises on her face . Her thin body was hooked up to several machines, a tape on her arm holding the various tubes and wires in place. As still as a statue he kept staring at her hand constantly, waiting for her to move it and gesture him to come closer. Alas, it didn't happen.
He stood up, pulled a chair beside her bed and sat down. He'd never seen her so calm before and that calmness was killing him every passing moment. He picked up her cold faint hand in his and kissed it several times.
"Hmm Hello Pretty woman, Oh, Miss CEO hun, Mubarak ho." He said trying to hold back the tears, "I know you can hear me Kashaf. Please open your eyes and talk to me." He kissed her on lips like the prince who kissed his princess on her lips and brought her back into his life again, however his princess being more stubborn seemed not to give a chance of winning her over easily. He placed his head on her chest lightly and tuned in to her heart beat. "I love you and I need you, Ruhi needs you, come back My love please." He whispered in a profoundly sorrowful voice and his tears started sopping her Johnny.
"It's impossible. Without you my life will be bleak and meaningless." Said the voice in his mind, concomitant with a series of memories embracing their cute fights, witty repartee, her pregnancy, their sweet time and what not.
Even after one month there was no improvement in Kashaf's condition, she was still comatose. Zaroon did his damnedest to wake her up, he was there with her almost all the time, with a lamp of hope to getting her back, in his heart. He didn't want their baby to see her mother in such grievous conditions. Despite her constant cries for her mother he kept her from seeing Kashaf. Her developing mind was not balanced enough yet, to take in the severity of their life. But how long he could have kept a daughter away from her Mother? A new hope suddenly sprang in his heart that warmth of Ruhi's proximity might do the magic that his couldn't.
As soon as Zaroon put Ruhi down onto the hospital bed, an endearing smile adorned her cute face. She lay down beside Kashaf, wrapping her little arm around her Mumma's waist, expecting to be loved, hugged and caressed by her. When it didn't come up, she poked Kashaf's cheek with her tiny finger. Kashaf didn't respond to anything, Ruhi's smile, her voice, her touch, nothing could bring about a movement in her body.
Ruhi's baby heart had certainly sensed that there was something wrong with her Mother. She started crying bitterly, Zaroon immediately reached out to pick her up and comfort her in his arms, pool of tears gathered in his own eyes though. "Paaa! Mum Mum?" she mumbled, looking directly into his eyes, pointing her finger toward Kashaf. Zaroon saw query on her tear-stained face, her brows forming the barely perceptible frown. He was speechless with sorrow, had nothing to say in response to her so unclear yet so clear words. After that day he never took Ruhi to Kashaf, until she hadn't been a little mature to deal with her Mother's state of being superfluous calm and quiet.
It was really hard for Zaroon to cope with Life's challenges without Kashaf being there to deal with them along. He had no other option than to collect the broken pieces of his heart and stick them back together for his unconscious wife and his toddler needed the strongest of him. For almost a year his office visits were restricted to a few minutes of his time to sign official documents. His friend cum business partner Raza and his loyal and devoted staff handled everything unbelievably well in his absence, and emerged as his big support system in the hardest period of life.
He wanted to bring Kashaf back home, but Doctors didn't give him green single to do so, as according to them the best for her is to stay in hospital under the care of doc, all the time. Since then he'd go to visit her daily, spend hours sitting beside her, read novels and newspapers to her, and do nothing but stare at her sleeping face, holding her hand.
He understood that he couldn't do anything to change the situation so he'd to grit his teeth and put up with it. He did get back to life, take charge of all the responsibilities totally in his hand after a period of time, but those who knew him closely could see through his sham smiles and futile efforts to appear normal.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Just as Zaroon's text message alert went off with an almighty beep, pulling him back into the contemporary society from the joy and affliction of remembrances, he wiped his tear stained face with the back of his hand and walked over to his closet. He took out his finest coat and donned it, before moving across the room to pick up his car keys that lay on the bedside table.
On the way to the hospital, he pulled the car up in front of a florist's, and within the next five minutes he had beautiful red roses, pink lilies, red and white carnation tied together on sticks with a red ribbon, blushing over his hand. The entire city had air of being swamped with love potion. From stores to malls, Valentine's day seemed to reign supreme that time.
As soon as Zaroon strode into the hospital, he got greeted by the quotidian sight of Mrs. Siddiqui's bonny smile. She was a middle aged Hospital receptionist, a regular spectator of Zaroon's unlimited love for his sleeping beauty for seven years. "Hey Handsome!" she said and her eyes travelled down to the flowers in his hand, with a look that said they were adorable. Her cultured voice chirping, her hands lifted as she leaned onto her desk, putting manicured fingure over a file, rested before her on the desk. "Hi beautiful." Zaroon spoke, walking up to her desk.
"Before you propose to me with these flowers , let me tell you that I'm only gonna break your heart for I'm already taken." Mrs. Siddiqui had smirked a little, before she looked up at him, raising her chin slightly and tilting her head back.
Zaroon laughed quietly. Everytime she toyed with him playfully, a smile promptly cropped up on his face. "Uh hmm, I do think that we could have made a beautiful couple if,... I were not taken too." He gave her a frisky wink, at which she was unable to stop her own smile from spreading across her lips. Zaroon pulled out the bar of chocolate that was in his pocket, in midterm of her smile, "For now, this for you," He said, as he handed it to her as a simple token of gratitude for bringing long ropeable smile on his face, once in a while. "Aha! I'm a chocoholic, thanks!" she spoke, "But I like flowers as well." She gave him a comical grin. "Sorry-these are for someone else." Chuckling, he said before he turned around and walked across the lobby toward the elevator. "Crazy guy!" breathed Mrs. Siddiqui after his retreating form.
Zaroon reached forward to push the up button. The elevator door ping open and a old couple walked out slowly. The gentleman nodded his head in his direction, with a gentle smile, out of courtesy, which he returned twofold, gently stepping into the elevator, wonderstruck for reason mysterious to him. He reached forward and hit the button for the sixth floor, where Kashaf's room was, and watched as the doors close slowly. The moment they shut, Elevator shuddered before lurching into life, so did Zaroon at a sudden sensation of a tight grip around his upper arm. He immediately turned his head toward it, only to descry his wife in a cold sweat, with her eyes sealed shut, hands holding his arm tightly, as if it was some sort of Harculean task required her strength to the utmost. All in all, she looked like a skittish cat, who was afraid of being trapped in elevator. A low chuckle involuntarily slipped past his lips and he let out a small, uncontrolled laugh.
In a trice the air shifted and Zaroon felt slight disorientation. The elevator had stopped. The doors were open, and Kashaf had evanesced.
The inexorable pain pierced his heart anew, to which he didn't want to pay any heed ,so covering it up with a one liner "Wherever you go, our network follows!' he stepped out and the elevator doors pinged closed behind him.
Within less than a minute walk he reached where his soul lived. He slowly pushed open the door. And there she was lying supine on the bed, her chest moved up and down slowly at a constant rate, her eyes were closed and she looked very serene as always. Sunlight peeping through the cracks of the window curtain, illuminated the entire room, and it too appeared undisturbed and serene. He walked up to her and stood over gazing down at her. She was so beautiful even in her deep slumber. Zaroon wanted to sommer hold her in his arms and take somewhere very far away where even her unconsciouness couldn't follow them.
He bent down a bit, and held the flowers out toward her face,"Most beautiful flowers for the most beautiful woman. Happy Valentine's Day My Love." He spoke up. He let the flowers fragnance mingle with the air being inhaled for some moments, so that it might curl up inside her head, fill her senses, and overwhelm her innermost self. Leaning down he kissed her forehead and then straightened himself up and put the flowers into the vase on the bedside table. He pulled the chair from the corner of the room, arranged it at the side of the bed , reached over and picked up the thick novel, which was at the top of the pile on the table, and sat down. "Hmm, let's see if Mrs. Ivory finds out her husband is having an affair?" he said, opening the book to where he'd left off the day before.
Before he resumed reading her a beautiful yet rugged love journey of Lara and Joe Ivory, he had a sudden thought. His one hand coupled up two halves of the book and placed it back on its previous locus while the other held hers firmly. "Hey, would you like to hear a new story today? A real story, not action packed as fiction, still very exceptional, because, it has us; the story of you and me?"
No matter how many times he tried, he couldn't even lay the foundations of delineate their very own love story; their fairy tale, which did have a happy climax, howbeit, it couldn't have been categorized as one of the happily ever after story through her prolonged sleep. And this reality was equally gut wrenching as it had always been, since the very first day of its kick off. He encased her hand in both of his and rested his gently against it, and In no time all his cells were indulging little by little in reminiscence of the saga of their love that flourished against all the odds and that Kashaf didn't need to be told, for it had been written on her heart for aye already, and was as fresh as a May gowan somewhere in her mind.
Health and Fitness
