Hey folks...a new story from my side in celebration of the Christmas
holidays..finally. Anywho...this one is for CC aka soni..thank you for always
being there and for all the help with this story..love you 🤗
AUTUMN
Chapter 1
Autumn: "Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the
other seasons." Jim Bishop
~~
Note to self: Never hit the snooze
button when the alarm rings. Ever !
Asad scolded himself as he rode down the
elevator, adjusting his shirt cuffs and swiped his right hand through his hair
to the left side, settling his fringe in place. He loathed tardiness in
unpunctuality, it left him feeling unprepared for the day ahead. And, he liked
to be proactive, always. Surprises and Asad Ahmed Khan never really managed to
get along well.
The
elevator doors opened with a ding and he stepped out looking like he had spent
a decent amount getting ready, not a hair out of place; when in reality, he had
raced out in ten minutes, He opened the glass door of the Palladium Apartments
and was hit with a bust of noise as he stepped out to Union Square. Ahh, the
hustle and bustle of New York. How he detested it ! He saw the purple NYU flag
hanging just above him, the trademark white torch on the flag was his daily
reminder: he was here for a reason and thats all that mattered.
He was
unlike him to be running slightly behind schedule but he had been up last night
working on his designs. He started his speed walk, merging west with the crowd
down Union Square. In the heart of New York: Manhattan, everyone is always in a
hurry, no matter the time of the day, the clich stands true for a reason.
Damn, he didn't have the time to grab a
coffee today, now a headache was already creeping into his temples. He adjusted
his brown leather side bag close to himself so he wouldn't smack someone who
walked too close. Trust me, it has happened ! He has been walking this exact
same eleven minute route for more than a year now. He could have opted to take
the seven minute subway ride, a difference of four whole minutes but just the
idea of being cramped in a matchbox sized box was unbearable.
He
continued his brisk walk on University Place as the stores and shops faded away
and university buildings popped up on either side. Soon, the familiar
Washington Square came into view and he switched to a slower pace. In about two
minutes, the famous Arch came into his peripheral vision, as he entered the
square. The vast square was surrounded by university buildings, restaurants and
places of exploration but frankly he was yet to explore the entire campus,
forget playing tourist in New York. The square was already littered with tons
of people, at quarter to nine. At rare times, he liked the visit the square late
at night, when very few people would be present. But yet, he still couldn't
hear himself think.
Just as
he was about take a left onto West Street towards Stern School of Business, he
stopped mid-step as he spotted a girl laying under one of the willow trees . It
wasn't that she was laying on the grass in a crowded park, because many people were
doing just that, dozing off in the shade of tress, But that particular girl lay
there, pale, motionless, as if a corpse with headphone plugged in as the
swaying curtain of willow leaves hid the sun from her. He was about to approach
her to check if she was alright but just then...
She sat
up with her eyes still closed shut. Willow trees are unique for a reason. Their leaves branch
down, as if curtains, to cover most of the tree. Unknowingly, He inched closer
to see her better. She sat perfectly still for a moment and then slowly blinked
her eyes open. And, the tears trapped under her shut eyes broke free and
descended down her cheeks freely.
He
halted in his tracks and at that time, time itself came to a still stop. The
faint sound of the chirping birds faded away. The swaying of leaves stopped.
People froze mid-step. The infamous noise of New York faded away. It was just
them.
He saw
her, only her and her sorrowful eyes. How could he ever describe those eyes ?
Those beautiful doe like hazel eyes, surrounded by long eye lashes. The tears
that swam in her eyes, then lost the fight and descended down her cheeks leaving
slightly wet imprints behind on her cheeks..but the pain that was in her eyes,
the pain in her eyes was indescribable ! so evident even from the distance that
Asad felt a odd ache in his heart.
Then,
the moment broke, she locked her eyes with his and held them for a moment
before she wiped her tears away with a swipe of her backhand. Then, she picked
up her brown satchel looping the straps through her arms and picked up her red cased
iPad and brushed past him to go towards Bobst Library. Asad helplessly watched
her fade away as she entered through the library double doors.
Slowly but
surely, Asad came back to Planet Earth. Oh, he had to go to class ! He gave his
watch a glance: it was nine and he was now late !
Taking
off into a full speed sprint, he manoeuvred through people as he passed the hub
of Stern: Gould Plaza. and raced off to Kaufman Management Centre. The lobby of
KMC is always full, littering with students and faculty members. Forging polite
manners, he brushed past clusters of people mumbling a quick excuse me'.
Professor Johnson frowned upon unpunctuality, in his opinion, late students
could never excel in his classes. It was only the start of the second year and
he couldn't afford to fall into the bad books of a professor especially Professor
Johnson, who is one of the most esteemed professors Stern School of Business,
has to offer.
Slightly
breathless, he pushed open the wooden door, one of the entrances that would
lead to the back of the lecture hall so he could be lucky enough to go
unnoticed. But just his luck.
"Ah Mr.Khan,
How kind of you to join us this fine Monday morning." Of course, Professor
Johnson would call him out in a lecture hall of four hundred students, and
every student turned to look at him. Fortunately or unfortunately, the
professor knew him by name. Ladies and gentlemen, take note. Being an ace student
can backfire at you someday and this was a demo presented by Asad Ahmed Khan.
"Sorry
Professor Johnson, won't happen again.", he mumbled sheepishly, loud enough so
Professor Johnson could hear him all the way down at the podium. Professor
Johnson acknowledged him a nod and picked up the lecture again.
He found
the first empty seat and sat his gluteus maximus down.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
After
class, he went back to the first floor busy Sosnoff lounge to grab a coffee,
the lounge was for students who were looking to both socialize and study but
Asad couldn't fathom how one could possibly study surrounded by noise. For him,
the silent Nyman
Reading Room was the place to be for hardcore nerd sessions. While
he was waiting in line, he opened up his textbook on his tablet and read as the
line shuffled forward.
"Good
morning, Can I help you ?", the barista asked. She was young burette, probably
a student who worked to pay tuitions. Despite his full scholarship, he too had
to work. His mother and sister depended on him, sending money home every month
was a necessity.
"One
large black coffee, please."
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
October
rolled around; and New York started changing. The green leaves slowly morphed
into colors of vibrant oranges and yellows and reds. It's odd how death can be
so beautiful, because in true reality, the leaves are going through the cycle
of life and dying yet we humans call autumn a beautiful season.
Temperatures
started dropped and the warmer clothes were pulled on. But the new fall month
failed to alter his Monday routine. Every Monday morning, Asad saw the
beautiful girl sitting under the same willow tree. Thou,
she donned a jacket now, the colder temperature didn't seem to bother her. She
still sat on the cold ,now dying grass clad ground, with her knees drawn up her
chest, and her head tilted back to rest on the tree trunk and who could forget
her tears ? Asad felt like his stranger would
be incomplete without her tears.
She is
beautiful; there is no doubt about that. She had a petite frame that was most
often donned in denim jeans paired with a simple top. Her jet-black silky hair
blew around softly as the wind played with them, her hazel eyes, thou usually filled
with tears, were absolutely stunning. But, it wasn't her beauty that attracted
him . It was the sorrow that surrounded her, and her captivating, hazel eyes
wallowing in suffering . It was a pain he was all too familiar with.
Asad didn't
know why he left home earlier than necessary but every Monday he did and every
Monday, he would gaze at the lovely woman. He watched as the greens of her
willow tree began to turn into yellows but she sat there week after week. Every
Monday morning, he helplessly watched her cry, her silent stream of tears
always broke his heart a little and had him fighting an urge to go up to her
and give the girl a shoulder to cry on, his shoulder.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Zoya
Farooqui sat in a familiar corner of Washington Square, at her usual tree, leaning
against the sturdy tree trunk. This faithful tree had been growing old with
her, from her early days of childhood. The countless days she spent with her Appi
and Jijju, and Oldie Mr.Tree Trunk ( as she had fondly named him ) as their companion in the past were
still ever so vivid in her mind and heart.
Even
with her closed eyes, she could feel his
gaze fixated on her. She absently ran her finger in a caress along the
sliver heart pendent around her neck. It was a Monday, and her stranger was here. He would be here every Monday, without fail
and all he did was watch her cry. Zoya never felt the need to hide her tears
from him. She felt an connection with the stranger since that chance September
eye lock: an odd, unspoken connection but it left her with a warm feeling, as
if he was attempting to share her sorrow.
So she
sat, she cried, and she reflected and in return, her stranger simply stood and
stared with those intense chocolate brown eyes of him. Before she went off to
the library, they would both acknowledge each other with a eye lock, just like the
serendipity of their first meeting September Monday and then go off their own separate
ways.
~~
Thank you for reading. Hope you
all enjoyed. Over to all, tell me how you liked it. Oh, I am not a New Yorker, or a NYU student, so kindly correct me if i make a massive geographical error or such 😳
For anyone who would like PMs,
please add ReyaPM' for PMs in the future, Do not add this ID, I don't use it
for PMs..thank u
Much love,
Reya <3
next ch: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/100146770
Edited by maankigeet4ever - 10 years ago
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