Forgiveness.

Chapter 10 - To Rewrite what was Written

To Rewrite what was Written

People have a habit of praising other people whom they seem to believe have achieved something or have done something, which can be appreciated as an action which is morally right or better than average. Yet some people first disrespect others only to talk high about them when they have done something for them.

My father was one of those people.

For example, Dad right now is talking high about Ezzah who he once degraded saying that she was a snobby and an impudent girl, but why was that? Just because she recommended me to Pamir and Pamir took a risk with me which not only benefited him but it also kick-started my career officially, that since I am back, many people have contacted me not just for jobs but also to freelance for them. What I can not help but think about is how the tables turn, how people quickly forget without an ounce of embarrassment over what they have said.

Khair!

It's a been a month since I am back and I miss them, each one of them. I miss how Ezzah would talk to me about our childhood over a cup of tea and tell me that I was a disgrace to our gang but was epic in my own way. I miss Pamir because, with time, we had developed this brotherhood that would display fights and annoying bickering but also support and respect.

Yet truly, I missed Jeena.

I wonder if she was my friend or a peaceful dream that could come true. i could not help but chuckle over the sentence I read on a wall in a cafe, 'people have their gone cases, where they chose to disappear instead of being found', Jeena is my that gone case.

I thought t was infatuation, but I do not think it really is. I have realized you can switch off a crush, but when you love someone's presences around you, things are not simple anymore. You do shift your ideologies, you do imagine about something you never even thought about, you do look around in your life that relates to them, that is how I felt when I viewed my world. It felt empty because she was not here despite she never was here, to begin with. She was supposed to be a moment, but she turned into breathing.

Missing her meant I had hope of seeing her again. The word 'missing' was not just a lost memory for me now, which would remind me of a good time I once had, but it was a sound I could not stop playing in my head and longed to hear again. Her voice was like a catchy song that struck without my consent. I miss her because although we do talk, we don't talk enough. After all, when I wake up, it's her time to sleep and vice versa. But on Saturdays and Sundays, we do talk a lot. She and my mother get along as well. They like sharing recipes for some reason. Watching them together is like a breath of fresh air.

I cannot believe that even when I am jogging right now, I am only thinking about how and why things are like this for me. How can I be so transfixed after a certain person but I am. Why would I only think about her even though she is not here? Even the thought of her makes me smile as if the world has enough happiness somewhere.

Pulling my wireless head buds off, I stop running and take a seat at the stairs that lead to the beach. Since I came back, I have moved near sea view in Karachi due to the startup company that I was planning to establish in Karachi.

Every day, early in the morning, when there are a low amount of beings around here, I come and give myself a long run to think through. Fewer people and more silence are not just healthy but also alluring.

For someone like me who has a large social circle, it's surprising how I rather have my alone time as well and just zone out in my own little universe of imagination, thoughts, and mechanics. The water looks so beautiful when the rays hit the small waves.