She was like a butterfly in spring. Flying from one garden to the next with her face pulled in a bright smile.
He was like a lonely Eagle. Soaring through the winds at high speeds, looking for happiness.
Life threw curveball on curveball in her path...
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TH E next morning, the sun shone bright. Its rays scattering all of the horizon, covering everything in its path with a gold halo. The clear skies, gave a beautiful view of a vivid blue sky, lightly stroked with a tinge of pink. The bright day, an imagery of the moods of the inhabitants of the city Lahore.
With the end of October approaching, the temperatures had begun to fall the slightest. Giving a hint of the moassam-e-sarma that was heading their way. The sunny day was welcomed warmly, it was a stark contrast to the gloomy days that had covered the lively city in it is dark cloak.
In a small street, in the old walled city of Lahore a girl with wild dreams slept. She was a dreamer. Asleep and awake, her mind did not stop. Her imagination was vivid and that translated to the clothes she sew. Something that could rival any mainstream designer.
Hoor slept peacefully. Dreaming about a man, whose lower torso she could not see, but he seemed to be walking towards her. Surrounding them was a huge garden, filled with greenery and flowers. The smells attacking Hoor's nostrils every passing second. "Hoor aaptou meri jaan ki dudhman ban gai hain," the unknown man spoke. "Aap hain kon?" Hoor asked, baffled by his statement. "Arey yeh kia zulm hai? Aap nai dil chura lia aur humme janti bhi nahin? Arey hum tou woh khushkismatinsaan hai jiska naseeb aap sai jur chuka hai!" The man turned around and left.
Hoor woke up. Startled. She was a bit shocked by her dream. It was the first a man had visited her dreams. Perhaps it was the effect of knowing she getting married in a few weeks. Sighing, she grabbed her duppata and headed out of her tiny bedroom. Heading up to the roof to wash her face.
Stepping out of the washroom, Hoor stopped on the small, empty roof. Taking in deep breaths to calm her overwhelmed self. Looking at the calm skies, she smiled. "Allah meri zindagi bhi aaj keh din ki tarah khubsurat ho," her heart prayed to its Creator sincerely. "Ameen". A heavy voice sounded from behind her. "Baba," Hoor turned around startled. "Ji haanmein. Chalo aao, akarnashtakarlo," Jamal told Hoor, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The duo walked in complete silence, enjoying the moment of complete bliss.
"Aja Hoor. Beth apni maa keh pass. Aajmeintujhe apnay haatun sai khilaun gi," Jahan-ara shouted as soon as she saw her precious daughter enter the baramda. "Jaisa aapchahein ammi," she said, taking a seat out next to her mother.
Her mother tore a piece of bread, wrapping a piece of fried egg which was covered in the warm, golden yolk. Hoor took the bite, moaning at the taste of her ammi keh haath ka nashta. "Wah ammi. Kia kamal ka banaya hai!" Hoor winked at her mother. Who chose to ignore her and instead fed her the scrumptious food.
