AsYa SS ~Between the Lines~ Chapter 1 Page 1

Back after a long time and so much has changed. Here is another little AsYa thing. Hope a few of you remember your Kuku!😆

AsYa SS

Between The Lines

At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not in your life.

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An AsYa story inspired by O Henry's 'The Last Leaf' and 'Lootera'.

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INDEX

Chapter 1: Impulse Tanveer

For PMs

Buddy 'ME'

Chapter 1 : Impulse

Tanveer

A shadow has settled in our lives and taken so much out of us that I can hardly recall if I ever had those sensations in me. Like love ever existed, like happiness ever knocked our doors, like the little steps in our porch would ever grow, like I would ever sit back and relax in the backyard with him and with our...

I can hardly cross the road towards the hospital wards; because what lies there is the strangest nightmare of my life. I can hardly take steps, I can hardly motion my existence and I can hardly breathe. The doctors and nurses rush pass me and with them the stories of thousand s of Asads they could not cure. I can see his name and so many other names clinging to their coats. They all start screaming, the names come to life and I see faces; pale dull and lifeless faces... some living and some still.

Room number 44, discharge the patient already, his orders have been forwarded... shift him already.' A senior sister told her subordinate to hurry. How time was always running for these people always on a go; patients coming and patients going. If someone would ask me I would tell how lives change so frequently and without you knowing in a hospital. You come here well and you go out dying or sometimes dead and there are others who come here dying and go out with a new life breathed into them. They are the lucky ones, they have the fortune playing by their side.

I came here after losing my 7 year old daughter and am leaving my life long partner to survive on his own. I lost my Saman and will leave my Asad today.

Was it only a month back he took me out to celebrate ten grand year of our marriage? Must be; the calendar says so. I was wearing my only diamond ring and a set of white-gold earings; both gifted by him once on our union and once on the birth of our daughter. He had arranged it in a silent corner of the noisy city, where we could hear the frequency of each other's heart beats colliding in the air. Where yes met and left only after they were moist; no no we were really happy the moisture came after gazing long.

Asad had spent long years of his life abroad, recession in that part of the world brought him back to his homeland. Life was new and fresh here, he got enrolled in gymnastics and became my regular trainee. The trainee I fell in love with and the trainee my father rejected, not once, not twice but thrice. The fourth time my man was lucky enough and my father calm enough to give my hand in the hand of someone who belonged to the class of simple people. Simple I say because for him happiness mattered more than pride, for him love mattered more than the unfortunate vibes of our life.

This life with its effortlessness brought the complacency and the felicity my previous life could not bring with the joy of wealth, the taste of good health and silent prosperity.

But there were fears, he was a foreigner by identity, his father being a full Jew and mother Muslim. And his rich brown set of hair set him apart; we never knew until some sick group of racist aficionados called him by his father's surname; taunting him of the creed. Things of that sort hardly existed; I mean it was 1980 and we were meant to be secular but that mere coincidence had left an impact. Asad started keeping a revolver, a licensed one, just for our security. The thought of using it had never crossed his mind he kept it just to avoid any case where he was harassed and attacked for life; I knew these were only fears and people of this country had the right of protecting themselves.

Nothing of the sort ever happened and his fears died; but who knows when and how these things settle back in lives.

We were late from our little rendezvous and Asad panicked because Saman was alone; the nanny left to her quarter after she slept. Some new construction plan had rendered the traffic to block. Nothing could have let in paranoia sweep over us if it weren't for the robbery that took place in our neighbors last morning. You know when things are to go bad nature gives you spoilers; only we are not always smart enough to cater for them.

We reached short from 12 and the lights of the house were turned off, peculiar we never did that and the nanny knew that too. Asad rushed inside and before switching on any sort of light went to his room and took out what he thought was needed in case of an intrusion. I told him to relax; he shushed me with his finger. I could sense his hands were trembling but more disheartening were the noise produced by the creaking of wooden floor right above us. Saman's room was downstairs right next to ours.

He told me to check on Saman. I found her fast asleep curled deep under her blanket. She had a habit of drowning her face under the covers. I followed Asad upstairs. He went into the store room, the exact source of the noise. The intruder seemed confusing, I had just cleared the mess out of it last week.

We went in and there was nothing to harm or harass us; not until the door of the cupboard behind us opened and a loud boo' came startling the wits out of us. On impulse Asad's finger ran on the trigger and I froze on the scream. My trembling existence turned around slowly; the man to my left had already collapsed to the floor; wait that man was Asad.

What lied in front of me was a tiny existence and a pool of blood. A pair of screaming eyes stared back at me and these were the eyes of my daughter, Saman!

It is interesting

Love to read AsYa works

Shubh Shuruaat you did with Tannu Chappy