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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W A K I N G up to the rough palms of her husband carefully touching her cheeks, was a welcome feeling. It was not everyday that the two of them got to sleep in. Usually, it was them against time. Time that was trickling faster and faster. Thankfully, due to summers the days had become long. And yet, the ever extending lock-down and rules has made each day seem like the one that had gone by.
Things had began to loose their meaning. There was no summer travelling to anywhere. No dining and having family dinners. No lavish parties. Marriages had moved to a small scale, with social media fueling the wedding industry by day.
And yet, in such a chaos, Hoor and Mustafa had found themselves in a cocoon. Surrounded by nothing but their pure love for each other. They were each others soul mates. Their connection much deeper than that of physical intimacy.
At times Hoor was thankful for Mustafa's condition. It had helped the both of them discover that mohabbat was more than about touch. It was about the blush that spread on her cheeks when her husband smiled at her. It was when her husband cared for her without her even having to say anything. It was the late night talks they had. Or the miniscule tasks of each other that they did.
However, there was a void in both of their hearts. They loved each other unconditionally. And were at a point in life that they had no worries. With Mustafa's business touching new heights even during uncertain conditions and Hoor becoming a confident woman as a result of education, it was ideal time for them to have kids.
"Mustafa?" Hoor spoke silently. Her heart wondered why Allah had taken away the blessing of a child from such a wonderful man. "Ji Hoor?" His hands moving through her long tresses. "Ap nai kabhi bachon keh baareymein socha?" Anyone else would have been reluctant to ask such a question. But with the depth and understanding they had, it was a given that Mustafa would not feel offended. "Hmmm... jaan socha tou hai. Par hota wohi hai jo Allah ko manzoor hai," he smiled down at her.
Hoor let out a loud sigh. Why did they have to go through this pain. If there was one thing they wanted to have, it was children. She had seen the smile on Mustafa's face when their workers brought their kids over. How his eyes would hold a glint of pain. A pain he felt due to not having the right to have any progeny.
"Hoor?" This time Mustafa called out. He had been thinking about something for a long time. He would however, not make a single move until his wife agreed. "Ji Musi?" Hoor lifted herself up. Now staring directly in his eyes, as if trying to find his soul. "Eik baat kahun? Offend mat hona please," he started. Seeing Hoor nod her head, he continued. "Dekho, there is potentially a way for us to have kids. It is not 100% accurate but try karsakatay hain," he told her. Hoor was shocked. How could they have kids? "There is this process called IVF". Mustafa elaborated. "IVF?" Hoor was confused. "Hmmm, Intra-Vitro Fertilisation," he started. "Intra... kia?" Hoor gave up on understanding the fancy word. Mustafa smiled. Explaining her how the entire thing worked. Hoor nodded her head, asking questions when needed. "I think Musi.. humein doctor sai baat karnichahiye". Mustafa agreed. He got an appointment for the day after. Perhaps there was still hope for them.
