The Autumn Love

Twenty

She was travelling back to home, where he was not to be found for a month. Sighing while looking at the shadowy trees, happy cyclers, running cars and chirping birds she was trying to figure out that where she was standing. He was not there in happy faces. Every time she thought of picturing themselves in the couples on heavy bikes but the destinies collided. They were together by means of law but a strange force was parting them.

Soon when she was entering the drive way she was feeling fragile enough to talk to anyone so climbing the stairs she was almost breaking from inside. When she entered in the room his scent was pouring in the dimensions of that giant piece of house. She went towards the dressing table and her sight lost the last perfume placed there a few hours ago. Her eyes travelled to the side table and the spot of his wrist watch appeared empty. She was controlling hard to not break the weak bridge in her throat but the time was testing her. Walking towards the dressing room she found that his recent white shirt was still hanging in the racks. He had just changed into something else and he forgot to place it in the wardrobe. She picked the hanger in her fingers and looked closely at it. Moving her trembling fingers on the collar and cuffs her tears were rolling down her cheeks. She slowly unbuttoned it and moved into the bathroom.

The elegant bathroom seemed empty as his toiletries were travelling at that moment. Her eyes widened when the pink bottle of shampoo appeared exactly on that place where his shampoo used to be. A curve stretched through her face and she was relieved.

Changing into his shirt she came out. Standing against the dressing mirror she found that she smelled the same as he was when the tissue was gently moving on her face. Touching her own shoulder she lowered her watery eyes. Adjusting the collar and the loose cuffs on her arms, her eyes went to the empty bed and then to his side. She lifted the sheets and after two other minutes of imagining, got into the bed. That bed was another dream. Closing her eyes, a wave of tranquility travelled through her body. She smelled his pillow and two hot tears absorbed in the cloth.

It was five already when she moved a little in her sleep. Mish was calling her because she knew that Kinza was tired and emotionally disturbed. Talking for a minute she regained her senses and let the pillow eased from her grip. Making her hair in a loose ponytail she went to refresh herself and got busy in studying.

Two hours passed swiftly. She had an easy exam next day so she was pretty relaxed. Scrolling down her collection of presentations the arrow clicked the 'Buying Behaviour of Sportsmen' and her heartbeat accelerated. This was the same last presentation before their Nikkah and it held many folds of nostalgia in it. Smiling at the screen, his scent perfumed her again and she hurriedly opened her notebook to avoid any other distraction. Her fingers passed through the last page and his handwriting stole her heart. The numeric figures appeared beautifully shaped, the corners of each vertical line crisply sharp and what not. She shrugged her head and then rested her head on the back. It was the mere second when something fell from the book and she observed a piece of paper going down the table. In the spur of the moment she caught it and began unfolding it. It was roughly torn but for the reasons known to God, only, her hands were shivering. She scanned whole piece but nothing caught her eye. Hopelessly, her eyes travelled to the extreme right corner and the time stopped passing.

"I will come back soon, just blink your eyes."

And she really blinked her eyes but only his fragrance erupted!

....

"The International Cricket Council is looking into the matter. Sources say that the case is strong. Mr. Ahmed may relieve himself as the smugglers wanted to transport illegal drugs using him. He was trying to escape when the paparazzi cameras caught him and misreported him. The sources are very sure that he is innocent. He was pressurized for his family and the consequences were hard on his body."

Attentively listening to the newscaster Kinza was observing him walk fast in the middle of the crowd. He was wearing a spruce colored blazer with goggles resting on that arrogant pointed nose. Her prayers were answered. He was busy in proving himself innocent. It was the last exam that day and she was relaxed so she had a lot of time to think on those lines again; the lines on which she was breathing.

"He will come soon." She blinked her eyes and then laughed softly.

....

"Ya Rab, you made it possible for me. Only You are capable of doing miracles. I waited; was bruised, was tested, but now I have complete faith in miracles. Today a dream came true again. Give me strength to fly again. I was honest before and now there is no stain on my pity. I was loved by You, Allah. I am sure that You love me. You made life easier for me. You gave me everything. My childhood and adolescence were hard but it was the hardest phase of my life. Every single day I thought that I would be failing. I was losing hope. I was afraid of everything. Everything in my house seemed a fantasy in the thousandth part of a second. I was afraid of touching them as I thought that they would disappear or dissolve and will leave no cullacino in my memory. I was afraid of marrying because the uncertainties of future were dark but now I am breathing freely. My neck, my shoulders, my body is relaxed. I have all my nerves still, no one throbbing out of pain.

I am drowning in her love, every single day. I feel a wave of pain every single time when her face appears on the curtains of my mind. I find my heart aching when I realize how many days I have wasted. I feel burdened when the thought comes in my mind that I have still not gained her confidence. She does not live in my room. She prefers to not look at me. How miserable I am still! I want her from the core of my heart but the overconfidence is biting me. I want to pull her closer, covering the distances between us but I don't want to hurt her. 

I am feeling serious emotions for her but how this dark feature of my past would be acceptable that a withered iris bouquet is still in the drawer of my wardrobe. I had felt serenity of love very first time then. How I would be telling her that someone had already invaded my heart before her. It was not a serious infatuation but that person made me believe in the beauty of love. I can never forget the delicacy of that feminine elegance. I am proving that I am honest but I have a stain in my heart. Help me!" 

Abdullah was not the same then. He was accepting his mistake; the mistake done in a single second. 

He was confessing his love, first love; the love who was sleeping in his shirt again.

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Will try updating more, soon.

Just blink your eyes....

*PLEASE DO NOT BLINK. LAST TIME WE SPENT TWO DAYS BLINKING AND OUR EYES ACHED. WRITER IS A LIAR.*