Losing Echoes [Complete]

1. Gone

Flashbacks are in Bold

Setting sun is the mirror of endings. No matter how beautiful, how enchanting it is. Endings promise pain. A melancholy no one asks for. The orange glow of the falling star tells how a thing can be both beautiful and destructive in its own way.

The twin cities were bathing in the evening hue. The air was still, a stillness that is akin to the calm after a storm. The storm which leaves nothing behind, which takes every good with it. A storm no one was anticipating but now it's everyone's fate.

The last ray of setting sun fell on the Duraid House increasing its silence some more. The whole aura of the house was submerged in a never ending gloom. The rooms were quiet. The usual full of live ambiance was mimicking the feeling of a graveyard. Still, sad, sorrowful. Passing the huge garden, there was mild whispering coming from the lounge.

Colonel Bukhari leaned forward and clasped his fingers together. His eyes were looking directly at the figure seated in front of him. Solemn posture and calm eyes, Yahya Duraid Ali was silent like a sea. He has lost his most prized possession today. There was no point in telling the world what he was feeling. The whole world knew what his grandson was for him.

"This is a tragedy I know none of us will forget for a long time. Major Zaviyar was working on a highly confidential mission. And he was there. So close. If only. I know your loss is more than anyone else's, Mr. Yahya. But this is what life goal of an army officer is. To lay down his life serving his country, defending it from the evil forces. Your grandson will always remain in the stories of bravery and courage. He was a force to be reckoned with. You should be proud."

"All this is secondary, Bukhari. My family and I are right now getting familiarize with the fact that he's no more. It's all so raw. It is going to take us a lifetime believing we lost him. I, with my own ailing hands laid his casket in ground. No grandfather should be alive for this."

Hamail gripped his grandfather's shoulder. To his side Ismail kept on looking lost. His stance wasn't different from the rest of the family. The pain of seeing his young nephew becoming a part of nothingness was excruciating.

Colonel Bukhari had taken his leave. The family was thankful he took the time for his condolences. Yahya leaned into his chair with the tiredness of ages.

"Dada, should I call Dr. Rehan?"

"I'm alright, Hamail. Go check on your grandmother."

"She's with Harram."

"And Khadija?"

Hamail gulped the ball of tears.

"In Bhai's room."

No one asked should they go after her, neither Yahya asked them to. They all knew she needed this time alone. Her loss was greatest among all of them. Zaviyar was not only her son but her only pillar. The pillar she had been left with when her husband and the eldest son of this family, Zaigham Ali died years back. Zaviyar was an only child. Yahya Duraid Ali loved his daughter in law like his own blood and that was the reason she kept on living with her in laws like her own family. The family was close knitted. The relations were dear to each other. There was no major issue, nothing whatsoever. It was heaven. But worldly heaven often collapse. This power is only there with Almighty's heaven, to stay forever. Khadija's heaven had also torn into pieces the day they had gotten the news of Zaviyar's martyrdom.