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The sweet floral scents of their garden, the cool breeze of the perfect summer nights, and the warmth of lit candles for special occasions were no longer of existence. Instead they were replaced by the nauseous smell of stench, the constant sweat dripping heat that never seemed to go away, and the soulless nights that were always so pitch black. But it was these very nights that brought both a sense of peace but the fright of an unexpected attack even at that time of night never allowed for the peace to reside in the hearts for more than a few moments.
Khushi sat on the steps of the shelter place and waited for Arnav to return home. She couldn't wrap her head around how the condition of their lives changed so drastically. But to be fair, it wasn't just their lives that turned upside down - it was the lives of every Syrian who seemed like a party against Assad's regime. Life in Syria was never perfect and that's why as journalists, Arnav and Khushi wanted to observe and write about the quality of the day-to-day life there but somewhere along the lines, they met good people, they gained good friends, they even had their first born there, so how could they leave a place - as imperfect as it was - that they now saw as home? Three years passed and now here they were - right in the middle of destruction, right in the middle of death.
She saw three figures walk down the distance of the buildings and got up when she noticed that one of the figures was Arnav. "Can you bring some water?" He asked and she looked at him questioningly but he didn't give her an explanation. She came back with a bottle and handed to him. She gasped when she saw him take out his right hand from behind his back and wash away all the blood that was dripping from it. "What happened?"
"My hand got caught in the rubble while we were helping someone out," he explained and gulped down the remaining water. He turned his back to her as he looked at his friend Ahmed with a sympathetic look. "We'll find them. They probably escaped to find safety," Arnav said in Arabic. Both he and Khushi learnt the language with all their years spent there. Before the civil war started, they even had kids come to them to learn English but everything had changed since then...
Ahmed hastily rubbed his eyes before tears can fall out of them. When he'd left in the morning, his family of three was safe in their home, and by mid afternoon, when he went back to check on them after several attacks, they weren't there. "How are we supposed to find them? There are tens of thousands of people displaced - how can we possibly find them?"
"Ahmed stop! As soon as morning strikes, Bilal and I will help you search for them. We'll ask everyone. Just have hope - you're the one who taught me that." Arnav said quietly as he put his hand on his best friend's shoulder. Bilal, who was standing next to Ahmed, did the same and Ahmed showed a little smile in appreciation before he nodded his head and looked at Arnav with a sigh. "I should leave then, who knows? Maybe they'll return."
Arnav pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. When Ahmed left, Bilal looked at Khushi. "How was she today?" He meant his mother.
"Not crying. She did manage to get up for prayer - that's a good sign," she said. Bilal's mother Maryam went into shock when she heard the news of her sixteen year old son dying in a blast, just days after her husband died. "Alhamdulillah," Bilal whispered and gave a nod to both Arnav and Khushi before he walked past them into the shelter.
Khushi grabbed Arnav's wrist and inspected his hurt hand. She cringed at the sight then looked at him with both anger and despair in her eyes. "You could have lost your hand today!" She hissed and went inside before returning with a knife. "Hold this end," she said as she handed him the corner of her scarf. Holding it taught, she made a cut then put the knife on the steps before ripping the scarf apart. She brought Arnav's hand in front of her and wrapped it up. He didn't flinch once - he was used to cuts like these.
"How's Shahid?" He asked about his son as he sat down, bringing her down with him. "Today was a bad day - the loud noises really shook him up. How else is a 13-month old child supposed to react anyways?"
Arnav let out a defeated sigh and held Khushi's hand to his chest while she just rested her head against his shoulder. "Khushi..." he started after some time. She didn't answer but she was intently listening.
"I talked to someone a few days ago...and I arranged tickets for you and Shahid." He was ready for her wrath when she moved away from his shoulder and stared at him incredulously. "What did you just say?"
"I can't have you two stay in this battlefield! You guys will be taken by a car with a few others to a certain point then you'll be put on a plane to go back to Delhi."
Khushi stared at Arnav for a few moments longer before she burst out into tears and held her head in her hands. Her body shook as she wept hard and Arnav tried to shush her by holding her close to him but she kept pushing him away. "How can we go back? How can you send us away? You're going to stay here while I go there and wonder every second of my life if you're alright?" She cupped her mouth with her hand and looked away because her cries were growing loud.
"Khushi, I've grown attached to these people. They all call me brother - I can't leave them in this state. If they die, then you might as well consider me dead too. They -" He was stopped when Khushi covered his mouth this time and hugged him around the shoulders with her arm. "Please don't say that. Please Arnav, everyone is running away, looking for safety and you won't leave this hellhole for your wife? For your son?"
He removed her hand and cupped her face. "You're going to have a second chance to live - these people don't." He said with tears silently rolling down his cheeks. Khushi suddenly started shaking her head no. "I will not go anywhere without you. I swear to God, Arnav, I will not move far away from you."
"You have to," he said quietly but Khushi hissed no again. "I don't have to do anything! You'll not send me back, not over my dead body," she said and Arnav slapped her making her stare at him dumbstruck. He stopped and stared around him before having his shoulders slump forward. He grabbed the back of Khushi's head and pulled her close to him in an embrace. "I'm sorry Khushi but you can't say stuff like that. Don't, please don't ever say stuff like that." He felt her arms tighten around his waist. "I won't go anywhere without you."
Arnav stared off into space while he thought of the only way to get her to leave. She wouldn't leave without him, so he would do just that. "I'll go," he finally said and she looked at him with widened eyes. "Will you really?" She asked to which he smiled and nodded his head. "I will." He was thankful she buried her face in his chest because he couldn't hold his fake smile for long. 'I'm so sorry, Khushi,' he thought.
****
Arnav stirred in his sleep as a whining sound was taking over his dream. He opened his eyes and realized it was his baby. He sat up and cradled him in his arms as the baby's eyes slowly closed again. Arnav was rocking back and forth as he stared at his son. His heart panged to remember the day his baby was born, at home since hospitals were filled with dead or injured bodies and there was no way to take Khushi to any other kind of hospital. He found some older ladies who would have known what they were doing. He remembered standing outside their bedroom as he heard Khushi's screams and whimpers. That was when they still had their own home which definitely was sweet in terms of how comfortable they felt with a bed, food, water, clothes, and a steady roof over their head.
He remembered the first time he held Shahid - it was nothing short of mesmerizing for him. He stared with awe at the tiny little figure in his arms. His tiny little hands, his tiny face, his button nose, and shut eyes as he often spent his time in sleep, and of course his adorable chubby cheeks which he got from his mother. But after that everything was a blur.
When the war caught up with them, it didn't allow him and Khushi to really savor and cherish the developing days of their first-born. The poor child was born into a very cruel war and that's why Arnav couldn't stand to have them there any longer. Did he feel guilty sometimes? Absolutely. It was the one thing on his mind every time he saw a women run down the streets crying her eyes out because she lost her husband, and every time he saw a child looking around for their mother or father but couldn't find them because they were already dead. He couldn't let that happen to his family.
He put Shahid back down in his place then lay himself down too as he kept his gaze on Khushi. She no longer slept with peace evident on her face. That became non-existent months ago when their house was damaged and they spent nights in different shelters until they found one that wasn't as crowded. Arnav's vision got blurry as tears pooled in his eyes. She would never forgive him for what he was going to do but it's what he decided.
****
"Are we all packed?" Arnav asked as he came in holding Shahid upright in his arms. Khushi laughed with her hands on her hips as she looked around her. "Uh...yup, we're packed!" She said as she held up a single store bag of clothes. The three went to the family they got closest to which was Maryam and Bilal. He kissed her hand in respect as did Khushi and the woman cried again as she kissed Shahid for the last time.
Bilal was standing outside when Arnav came and hugged him. Khushi was a little surprised Bilal wasn't as emotional as she thought he'd be. He shook her hand and put a big kiss on Shahid's chubby cheek before looking back at Arnav and just nodding his head in understanding.
****
Khushi kept restlessly looking at Arnav because she felt something was terribly wrong but he acted so normal. Her hands started to shake when the organizer of the group began to announce the names on his list for the people to get in large vans. Arnav was holding Shahid the entire time and kept kissing him until their family name was called. He walked with them towards the van and Khushi got in first before he put Shahid in her lap. "One sec, there seems to be a problem over there," Arnav said pointing to the group of people and went back.
"Arnav, just come!" Khushi said with a trembling voice. Another woman and child were squeezed into the van with Khushi and a few others already in. Khushi wanted to tell the lady that the seat was reserved but she tried to remain calm since Arnav was still in view. "Arnav!" She called when her heart was beating so fast with worry it was making her cry.
She wondered why he was still standing there considering that almost everyone had gotten into the cars and vans. He looked at her and walked a few steps towards the car before he said, "take care of yourself and Shahid," and the door closed. Khushi's eyes widened and her lips started to quiver. "What?" She didn't understand what was happening. "Arnav!" She yelled but it seemed no one was listening to her. Her heart dropped to the ground when the van started to drive away.
"ARNAV! ARNAV!" She wailed as stuck her head out the window. "Arnav come! Stop the car! Please stop! Arnavvv!" She yelled and he watched as she screamed her heart out but no one stopped - he had already warned them about this.
When the car turned the corner and the sound of Khushi's dreadful screams left a heartbreaking trail behind, he hung his head and started walking back. 'I had to Khushi, I love you with all my heart and soul but I couldn't leave these people behind. Please Khushi, forgive me and just pray that I can make it out when all this is over...' these thoughts were going through his head when about a mile away, a bomb blast went off and the ground shook under his feet. Within seconds, all he heard were screams and cries and buildings breaking and falling to the ground. He ran quickly for a secure place. He stood behind a building trying to catch some air when he saw a figure from his peripheral vision and jumped back startled. "Sarah..." he said with wide eyes while looking at Ahmed's sister. It took her a few seconds to understand who was talking to her exactly. She ran the distance and grabbed Arnav's arms pulling him down so they were crouching close to the ground.
"Where's Ahmed? Where is he?" She asked, her hands trembling against Arnav's. "He went back to your home in case you returned. Where are your parents?"
She started breathing heavily then with each breath, he heard the incoming of a waterfall. "They died! They're dead. I've been walking without food or water for the past two days but I can't find him!"
Arnav was about to say something when the people on the street were yelling the vilest words in terror. "There's another one!"
Then on the spot another bomb went off creating an even bigger impact as it was directed closer to the area where Arnav was in. He buried Sarah's head in his chest in order to shield her from any flying debris.
They waited for half an hour and when there were no more signs of attacks, they got up and hurriedly walked back to the shelter. "Stay here. I'll tell Bilal you're here; just stay," he said to her and she nodded her head in obedience.
Arnav went in the effected areas and started to help people out of rubble and such. He shuddered at the thought of how calm he and all the other men had become. This was a daily issue for them after all, so after the umpteenth time of a bomb, or missile, or rocket, they had became completely monotone to it all. They were simply concerned about helping the victims of the war and hoping for survival and nothing else. Peace was once something they cried a lot about but with the way things were deteriorating, it really didn't seem like it can get better.
****
*Three Months Later *
Khushi was in a state of complete depression. Her family and Arnav's family tried everything they could to help her but her blank face was always there. She barely saw her son anymore either. He was always with Arnav's sister Anjali and the day Shahid called Anjali 'mumma,' it threw Khushi over the edge even more.
She didn't know if she should cry or if she should have hope. She didn't know of Arnav's whereabouts. She didn't know if he was living and in a constant run for survival or if he was already dead and buried in the depths of Syrian soil. She didn't know and going over these possibilities every single day is what eventually turned her into her vegetable state.
She was mopping the floor in front of the main entrance one day, when the doorbell rang. She dried her sweaty face with her white dupatta - her family had gotten extremely upset that she refused to wear anything but white, as if a widow - and screamed as she fell to the ground sobbing.
Arnav kneeled in front of her and hugged her tightly then felt his own shirt behind pulled on as she grabbed fistfuls of it. The entire family came running down to see what the shriek was from and everyone broke out into cries as well. "Arnav, why did you lie to me? You said you were going to come and you didn't! I've been living as a dead human this entire time! Why did you do this to me?" Khushi was punching his chest but she would still hung on - he was her reason for sudden revival again.
Everyone else in his family wept as they all hugged him for the first time in over three years. After three years they had finally seen their beloved Arnav but considering the crazy war he was living through, they were crying more for his safe return.
Arnav held his son the first chance he got but his son turned away crying for Anjali. Arnav's face fell but Khushi shook her head at him. "It's okay. He doesn't like any of us at the moment. But we'll work on that." She hugged Arnav sideways but she was impatient for the rest of the day until it was night where she hugged him tightly in bed and didn't give him the chance to move. Her constant fears of whether he was dead or not was finally put to an end. And for the first time in the past year since they were misplaced from their home in Syria, she slept peacefully as did Arnav.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There are many wars going on at this time but I wrote about the Syrian one in particular because I've seen footage from this war that has made me cry because of the crazy destruction and all the lives lost. The Syrian war is a particularly sensitive topic for me becauseI've seen the state that the people live in. I've actually always wanted to write a story that situated in war so...here it was.
Anyway, as sad as it might be, I still hope you liked the concept of this story. Thanks guys! Wish my Muslim brothers and sisters Ramadan Mubarak and to everybody please do pray for the Syrian victims. Please.
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