The Autumn Love

Fourteen

The door was closed and he was alone again. Stopping the mad race in his heart, Abdullah was welcoming a new sensation in his life.
He moved on the bed slightly and rested his head in the pillow. Remembering the very recent past he felt if she was still near, showing the maximum composure. He had never wanted to get married but this stream of thoughts was confronting his ideas. Adjusting his hand beneath his head he turned his face towards the glass window. The water was making artistic patterns on the glass and he smiled. He was failing to accept the fact that she was gone. He was finding the red bangles still piercing the silence. He was unable to admit that the white dopatta was no more in his access.

Covering himself with comforter he was thinking of not taking any tranquilizers after a long time. In some corner of his mind his career was pinching but he did not want to think on those lines.

"Stupid brain, can you please stop doing it? Aren't you seeing that I am happy? I am not the previous Abdullah anymore, or at least now."

His voice was filling the emptiness in the room. He was different and his wife was unique. Their marriage was the most different. He had signed the papers sitting in the hospital bed with the needle of a drip in his nerves. She came to meet him dressed in a very sober but festive dress instead of him going to her.

He closed his eyes gently and a soothing feel encircled him. Again the beautiful face appeared on the curtains of his mind and he was amazed. With his eyes still closed he smiled and continued to steal some fragments of his imagination. He was intrigued. He was facing questions by his own heart.
He was interested to know her more; the way she speaks, the way she ties her hair, the way she looks for her favourite dress while opening the wardrobe, the way she matches the perfect accessories, the way she exclaims seeing her favourite meal, the way she sleeps, the way she finds the bookmarked page of her favourite novel, the way she squeezes her eyes when tired, the way she hurries when her ice cream melts, the way of everything.

Opening his eyes he exhaled a deep breath.

"What she would be doing at this moment?" He inquired to himself.

"Abdullah, man, come in your senses. What is happening to you? Are you the same who was allergic to the females?"

"Yes, I am the same but she is my wife. I find my heart aching when I think of leaving her again. I don't know whether she has any interest in cricket. She is the daughter of the textile industrialist so she won't be much into cricket. Would she be fine to accept a great crowd after me?

How would she react when she would come to know about my painful past, the past that still haunts me? How would she react when the details of the controversy will be disclosed? How would she react when I will grow poor as I am about to lose everything? She has always enjoyed a lavish lifestyle but what will happen when the shadows of my fate reach her? How I am supposed to leave her in the end? How I would be bridging my emotions for her? I have just spent ten minutes with her and I am done already. How would I announce the verdict that divorce is our ultimate journey? I am a man with many dark features in my personality and I cannot drag her into those as well. I cannot give the complex personality to my kids. She is eloquent, beautiful and dignified and she does not deserve me. I am the stone of her way and she will someday be leaving me, intentionally, without any forced decision. She will leave me soon."

Combating with the waves of intense pain in his head he pressed the button right after his bed to call doctors.

He was in serious trouble. His wounds were bleeding, invisibly, again.

...

Reaching back to home, replying the questioning eyes and mocking comments was difficult. Soon when the guests went to their homes she was relieved. Climbing the stairs to her room he again came to her mind. Kinza was living a wonder since five hours and the most magical moment was when she decided to follow Ammi's request.

She never knew that Ammi would make such thing possible or maybe it was the height of the passion that Allah made it reality.

Reaching closer to the door she shifted her slipped dopatta on the shoulder again and opened the door. The pinkish light welcomed her. She was wondering that how her messy room turned neat again and at that time she wanted to hug Mish desperately. Closing the door back she was pacified and wanted to change at first but something made her stand in front of the mirror. Seeing her reflection, Kinza was awestruck at that time. Remembering his gaze she flushed in red. Hesitantly, she lowered her trembling eyelashes and then giggled.

Placing her hands on the table she peeked into the mirror and a satisfying smile appeared on her lips.

"Today I am finally here. I am near you. I am your better half. How beautiful this sounds! How vivid the colours on your face were when you were just staring me! I had read somewhere that apart from these five senses Allah has blessed every woman with a special sense, the sense of inner intentions. Every woman is capable to differentiate between the glares, the pure ones and the terrifying ones.

I was not easy with you there and I was afraid of your reactions but as the time passed on I was finding myself in a beautiful valley covered with fully loaded trees where you were just staring me in sunlight.

The sharp beams were making my eyes pierced but I felt like if I miss any moment I would die. Your glares were the most meaningful. Your eyes were saying that you were contented. The shine of your clear eyes was shouting that you found the love of your life. I had been running after you since when I started feeling like an eastern girl. I had been painting you in my dreams. I had been crying for you in my nightmares and you said that we were meeting for the first time.

You can never count the amount of infinite beats of my heart when I looked at the withered iris bouquet in a nearby vase. You can never think that I was behind it. You may wonder that if I have any interest in your passion for cricket but it was pre-destined that I developed my interest in cricket when I first saw you. You were playing the domestic matches at that time and no source on earth was telling me your name. I searched you everywhere in my capacity and then Allah made it easy. I found your name with your picture in the newspaper I hated to read but then my love for reading grew. I always imagined us as the protagonists in novels and now our story is like another fantasy.

When you were holding my hand, my amber stone, I was on the cloud nine. I can never confess my love for you in front of you. I am afraid of the intensity of your eyes. I cannot even look in your eyes. I have buried the confident woman in me deep down in your heart. My finger is still numb, would you ever believe? My hand is still in your hand. The diamond in my ring is close to the direct nerve to my heart. It is transporting my feelings there and I am sure that someday you will gain access to it.

You know, I was speechless when in the thousandth part of a second I observed you were wearing black. I had always gone mad when you wore black in any gathering. How can I switch my inner eyes from those folded sleeves of your drip-bearing hand? I was feeling intense pain when I realized that swelled skin near the nerve was throbbing but your presence healed it. I am sorry but I overlooked it as you were making me mad.

You are in my every piece, Abdullah. I am all yours. I cannot breathe without you now. I am wondering how I had spent ages without you as now my nostalgia is pushing me away. I am painting my future with you where I will be with you. How I would be enduring your charisma, your scent and those piercing eyes? I am answerless but the infinity is still to happen."

All smiling, she turned to her dressing room.

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