A/N: Hi guys!
I had this idea and I couldn't resist writing it down and once I had written it, I couldn't resist posting it either! LOL.
So, it is short and hopefully not too haphazard!
The italicized parts of the story are past events.
Here goes nothing!
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I sit by the fountain at my usual place and sigh. I feel a sense of peace surround me, a feeling that I have missed for the past many years. I cannot remember the time or how I came to sitting there regularly. As long as I can remember, I have always found solace at the Fountain in the City Hall Park. My father used to bring me here after he picked me from school and it became "our-thing". Perhaps, unconsciously, I seek the comfort of my deceased father's arms as I sit there day after day.
Losing my parents in a fatal car crash seven years ago had been a staggering blow to my young life. I had survived the crash, but barely. For a nineteen year old free spirited and carefree girl, waking up from a six month long comatose state, only to discover that she had been orphaned, can be life altering.
I had to undergo severe treatment and physical therapy to gain control of my legs again, which had been severely crushed in the accident. I will admit that I had been a rather masochistic patient, but having to learn to walk all over again, while I had no desire to even life anymore, effectively put in the morose frame of mind that I lived in for months.
~
"Miss. Farooqui?" the doctor entered my hospital room. "Are you ready for your first therapy session? Your therapist is ready whenever you are. A nurse will be here shortly to wheel you out to the training room."
I nodded at the doctor. Just like he said, a nurse came with a wheelchair and helped me into it. It hurt like hell but I did not hiss, or gasp or express any emotion. I did not have any emotions in me anymore. I could hear Dr. Fran sigh from somewhere in the room. I knew that he was getting worried about me, but I was fine. I was grieving, but I knew that would be fine, one day. But I couldn't even bring myself to tell him that.
Soon, I was released from the hospital, but I had to attend sessions with my therapist for many months to follow. Physical therapy sessions were grueling. They drained my energy. It was hard to learn to walk all over again and to get my legs to cooperate. My trainer would drone on how even though my physical injuries were healed, due to the six months in coma, my brain signals to my leg muscles were still muddled. Like a prolonged pins and needles feeling. I snorted, yeah right. Like it hurt only that much.Whatever.
I did try, though. I tried hard. I tried with all my might. And slowly, very slowly, I managed to get out of the "room training" or torture room, as I liked to call it, and start talking walks in the garden outside the therapy center.
In that dark phase of my life, when I thought that dying was the best option to end the cycle of pain and suffering, I met the love of my life.
Clichd? Yes.
A page out of Nicholas Sparks's romance? Maybe.
Asad Ahmed Khan was a regular at the therapy center. Though, I had never seen him there before that particular day in the garden.
After managing one killing-my-legs long perimeter of the garden, I was sitting on a bench that overlooked a pathetic excuse for a fountain in the garden - well better than none, though - when we first met. In hindsight, meeting him by a fountain had sealed our fate.
I felt the presence of someone next to me and I turned to see the most handsome face I had ever seen.
"What has the poor fountain done to you?" were his first words to me. I frowned at his strange question and then I realized that I had been glaring at the said fountain.
"Just wondering why they would destroy a perfect piece of land by building a monstrosity that is obviously hideous. This piece of cement is a disappointing ambassador of all the fountains across the world." I shrugged my shoulders.
He chuckled at me, "I take it you do not like this?"
"Was it that obvious?" I retorted, sardonically.
"Asad Khan. Nice to meet you, Miss?" he extended his hand.
I shook his hand, "Zoya Farooqui. Although, whether it is nice to meet you remains undecided." I said.
Shaking his head, he smiled and said, "What are you doing here, Ms. Farooqui? Besides cursing the poor draftsman who designed this piece of cement, as you call it, that is."
I pointed at my crutches that lay by my side, "Taking a breather from my therapy session. I am learning to walk you see." I rolled my eyes at him.
Yes, sarcasm and anger at the world were my defenses. Everyone grieves in their own way. I did it my way.
"What I about you? You look fine to be stuck at this torture centre that they also like to call therapy centre." I asked him.
"My sister has her sessions here. She has Friedreich's Ataxia. It is a nervous system problem. She can't move her muscles properly or walk." He told me.
"Muscle impairment." I nod at him, "I read about it."
It was the first of our many meetings. We would sit by the dismal fountain everyday and talk. All my life, the blast of the fountain water used to soothe me, but then, all it sounded like was noise to my ears. The memories were tainted.
He told me about his family, his dreams. I told him about my family, the accident, and my dreams. I would complain to him about not being stuck at home. I was not allowed to walk to my favorite place, because of the steps and danger of water and slipping, yada yada yada. Did I not take a bath everyday? I would also whine about the crazy logic of my therapist.
"Take me to the fountain, once I am perfectly fine." I told him one day, "I want to make new memories for that place. The ones that won't haunt me. New life calls for new memories, right?"
Asad simply smiled and kissed my lips.
Did I mention that in between our bonding over limb related troubles, we had fallen in love? You know what people say about "A ray of hope in the dark", all that jazz? Turns out to be true.
~
"Hey, babe?" I turn to find Asad standing there with my Iced Capp. "You ready to head back?" he asked me. I nod at him.
He did well on his promise. He had brought me back here after I had gotten the "go" by my therapist all those years ago.
~
Asad carried me in his arms to the Park. I could walk alright. But my man had decided to add romance to our big step to the future - I was sharing my memories with him, in the hopes of building new ones.
I kept my eyes on his face as he walked us to the fountain. I did not want to get even a glimpse of the fountain before I was right in front of it.
"You can look at it now, babe." He placed me on "my spot". I took a deep breath, but closed my eyes - letting the little sprinkles of water caress me. I slowly opened my eyes to see the swells of water beautifully dance over and over again, in synchrony. I could have cried with joy as I realized that it was not noise anymore, it was music to me.
In the crashing melody of the water, I could hear the laughter of a little girl as her father chased her around. I could hear the giggles of the girl as her father gave her piggy back rides. I could hear the sniffles of the teenage girl and her father's threats that he would kill the boy who broke his Zoya's heart.
~
I would still vehemently deny that I had reduced to a blubbering mess that day. I had a reputation to maintain, after all. My darling husband, being the sole witness of her emotions from that day, got a kick out of my refusal.
Today, almost six years to the day when Asad had brought me there, similar giggles of a baby girl wormed their way back into my ears, and my heart. I looked around to see Asad chase our two-year-old as she laughed and ran on her unsteady legs, her father hot on her heals.
I looked at the sprinkling water as it splashed to the base with force. But then, it relentlessly rose again. The water never ceased.
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A/N: TA-DA!
I hope it was not all over the place and you could actually make sense of how the story went! LOL!
You know what to do! Hit the button and review if you liked it (or rather, if you could follow the story! 😆)
Cheers,
Simi
Pati Patni Aur Panga
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
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