Posted:
Hi friends
It's been a while since I wrote a ff. After DMG ended, I took time off from IF and watching Indian serials. Also got busy with life in general but thanks to KSG, I am back on the forum and as I had promised someone, if I get enough inspiration to write again, I would try my hand at writing something fictional again. This is not really a story, but my interpretation of Asad and Zoya's life in first person. This section will focus on Asad and once I am done here, I will write another post on Zoya.
Part 1: pg 1 Part 4: pg 16
Part 2: pg 7
part 3: pg 12
Dil Ki Baat...
Chapter 1
Seventeen years is a long time, but it all seems like yesterday. The man who I had always addressed as Abbu became Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan forever. I had just returned home from school, when I saw him pack all his luggage along with a bawling Ayaan in his car. Ayaan ran towards me. At first I was confused, but Ammi's tears and Najma's screams indicated something big had happened. I was stunned when Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan asked me to accompany him and Ayaan to his new house. I clung to Ammi, "NO" I screamed. He grabbed Ayaan's hand and yanked him away from me. "It's your choice Asad- a life of prosperity with me or a life of sorrows and poverty with your Ammi! And Ayaan is going with me-whether you like it or not!" How could he do that? Ayaan was my best buddy, my brother, by baby- there was no way he could take him away from me. But he did. He left his 11 year old son, his youngest daughter and wife- for a life of prosperity!
Yes, it was a struggle for the three of us. Although 11, I felt I had turned 21 overnight. For the sake of her children, Ammi gathered the pieces of her life and made sure we were well taken care of. She tailored clothes for some neighborhood women. Instead of playing in the park with my friends after school, despite Ammi's protests, I took up a job at a nearby book store. Middle school is hard for everyone- kids bullied me about my father. I heard stories about Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan and his second family in the cafeteria, school bathrooms and recess periods. There was only one way to shut them all out- I stayed in my classroom at all times, at my desk, with my books and my lunch box. Thanks to my teacher, Ms Soha Ali, I enrolled myself in music lessons at school. Music became my second best friend after my books. I could shut out all noise and chaos when I was with these best friends. I hated disorder. If my pencil was not sharpened to the right length, I became restless in class. No one was allowed to touch my things. I would not share my stationery or pens with anyone. My organized desk was a model for the classroom. I still remember the day when someone spilled ink on my desk. I used all the towels available at school, but when I couldn't get all the stains off, that day turned out to be a nightmare at school. I failed my math test for the first time in my life. Ammi tried to reassure me that evening. Since then, any stain or dirt anywhere around me reminds me of failure.
Ayaan was my only outlet to the world. At first we would wave to each other at the Dargah or the market, but as we grew older, we started meeting behind the school football field. He was one heck of a naught boy. Even though he played pranks on me, I loved my time with him. With my salary from the bookstore, I would buy candy and gum for him. He became my audience for my music riyaaz. I don't know why, but just watching his face light up, would make my day. He was even allowed to draw on my school bag.
When I graduated high school at the top of the class, some of my classmates came up to congratulate me. They tried to be friendly, but I knew I couldn't trust them. They had bullied me throughout middle and high school. They were no different than Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan- untrustworthy and superficial! Being a topper, my photograph was splashed in all the local Bhopal newspapers. A moment of pride for Ammi and Najma but for some reason, I was hoping against hope that Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan would at least make a call to congratulate his oldest son on his achievement. Of course, he never called. Why would he? Ayaan sent me a cute card - I still have it I'm drawer. No one knows about this drawer. It's a secret place where I keep my most cherished memories.
College was a breeze for me. Architecture was the right profession for me. Lines, drawings, angles, diameters, symmetry, orderliness - it was all there. I made a few friends in college, but once they started dating and showing interest in women, I lost any desire to hang out with them. What a waste of time! Instead, I spent hours researching ancient and modern architecture books at the library. The gym became my second passion. It was like meditation. A perfectly toned body became an obsession with me. My perfect desk at school had found a replacement.
I have achieved a lot in these seventeen years. My firm is one of the top architecture companies in Bhopal. Ammi doesn't have to work anymore. Najma is in college and I can say I have achieved more prosperity than Mr. Rashid Ahmed Khan could have dreamt of.
They say time is the best healer. Mr. Rashid Khan has stopped being a constant thorn in my memories. I have not seen him in a while and Ammi has stopped staring at his old photographs lately. Ayaan is a young man and quite a musician himself. We decided to meet at the Dargah one day. My life has reached an equilibrium now. As I entered the Dargah, I was at peace with myself. I sat down quietly and as I was about to shut my eyes in prayer, a sight most beautiful, a creation by the almighty himself appeared from no where. I don't know why but I couldn't get myself to shut my eyes, I stayed glued to the visual in front of my eyes. Her tears moved me as if they were my own. As her black shawl slipped off her head, I couldn't take my eyes off this beautiful woman. The exquisite jewelry and henna on her arms enhanced her beauty. She looked like a bride, but why was she so distraught on the most beautiful day of her life?
...to be contd...
226