Set in the 1990s, a young girl in a village awaits her husband, who has gone abroad to work, long before WhatsApp and video calls were a main way of communication.
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*
Meri Pyari Kiran,
Kya haal hai? Umeed hai aap aur wahan sab ache honge. Yahan alag sa mohaul hai. Sab kuch itna farak hai ke yakeen hi nahin hota ke main isi duniya main hoon.
Laikin, aapki yaad bohat aati hai. Yahan barish bohat hoti hai, aur har katre ke saath jaise mujhe aap ka khayal aata hai. Parson to baraf bhi padhi thi aur main soch raha tha ke Kiran hoti to kitna khush hoti.
Bas, thoda sa intezaar karlain, phir In Sha Allah aap ne mere paas hi hona hai.
Aapka, Ibad.
*My beloved Kiran,
How are you? Hope you and everyone there is well. It's a different atmosphere here. It's all so different that I can't believe that I'm still on Earth.
But, I miss you a lot. It rains a lot here, and with each drop I seem to miss you. The day before yesterday it even snowed and I was thinking that if Kiran was here, she would have been so happy.
Now, just a little wait, then In Sha Allah (Allah Willing), you'll be with me.
Yours, Ibad.
*
It was the dawn of computers. Technology was about to take off to great heights, and a new millennium was about to begin. Yet, there were rumours that all computers will crash, or die, at the beginning of the twenty-first century.
It was the decade of the nineties!
Ibad stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hands. Despite the gloves covering his hands, the cold winter air made his fingers feel numb. Vapour blew out of his mouth, making it seem like cigarette smoke, and his boots crunched on the winter snow sprinkled over the footpath.
Pushing open the door of a phone centre, where he could pay a certain amount to call back home in Pakistan, he sighed in relief at the warmth.
"Hello, may I help you?" The bored looking employee asked him.
"Hi. I would like to call home to Pakistan." Ibad spoke up, his teeth chattering as the cold seemed to have settled into his bones.
The man pointed towards the sign that indicated the prices. Ibad nodded and took out his wallet, placing a handful of coins on the counter and sliding them towards the man.
"Booth three." The man nodded towards the back of the shop.
Ibad headed into the booth and closed the door behind him before lifting the receiver and punching in the numbers. Through the glass, he could see a lady in sari chatting in the booth next door, a grim expression on her face. Feeling as if he was invading her privacy, he turned his back towards her and sat down as he waited for someone to answer the phone at the other end.
