A Blossom in the desert

The Colour of True love

"True love is like colour blue .Don't interrupt Emmi I am explaining what I mean." Nabilah warned Emaan making her pout in response. 

"Once in my science class my teacher asked us to name the species that our blue in colour and to our much efforts we found out that there were very less number of animals who were actually blue in comparison to other colours .You see even blue roses are not natural .And that's when our teacher explained that blue pigment is quite rare in nature .And whatever animals or plants are blue in colour is because of acidity levels or structure and patterns of their skins that absorbs all colours of light except blue that's how they are blue in colour .So from their I concluded that just like these animals, each and every human heart has a different pattern ,it's not necessary what I like ,you will also love .So we have own sets of structures lining our heart and not to forget the light we carry in our hearts ,dim or dazzling doesn't matter .We come across several people but not everyone becomes a part of our heart .People come ,go and stay painting our world with different colours .But out their in this world there is someone whose Noor of heart will make that special and rare colour to illuminate your world and you will dazzle his empire with your light . That person whom Allah destined for you ,whose presence will make your heart bloom with rarest feeling ,the blue feeling of love ,one of its own kind .And just like I found my blue colour through your father you will find your own shade of blue ."

"I don't need blue colour! My world is colourful enough with your and Abbu's presence!".Emaan huffed.

"But blue is always needed to colour the sky of your life Emmi ,the sky where everything begins and ends...and love can only be true when it takes you closer to your CREATOR..a step closer to that sky .And it's not a coincidence that sky choses to paint itself in rarest colour when light engulfs it. When you will find true love you will see Emaan it will have the attributes of two beautiful blues of this world ,it will be high and majestic like the sky and deep and calming like the ocean with their own elements of terror and trouble but as long as majesty and depth keep oaring you towards Allah ,you will know you have found the perfect blue colour Emaan .I was a orphan so no one told me anything such but I am telling you this Emmi so that you always have a hopeful heart that you will find your happiness ,your blue happiness!".

Winds sauntered around the area like a siren swaying the trees like delirious sailors enchanted by the gentle lores she hummed along. But amidst such intoxification brewing in the atmosphere there was one soul who seemed delirious not by the hymns of gales but by the words .Words that once her mother had told her and words of Khaled that had tumble down her world into a chaos.

Hopeful heart was what her mother had asked to harbour but could hope castle in the heart by walking on the cadaver of someone's else precious dream.How could she seek happiness which her friend chased after.A palace constructed on such selfishness would only scathe more wounds on her soul.Craving and accepting this palace of dream would tear away her ability to look at the mirror and not be disgusted by herself .But still despite all this ..

Emaan couldn't seem to break out from the unending pattern of resonance of Khaled's words in her mind. It seemed unreal yet so starkly real causing goosebumps to course through her body each and every time realisation dawned on her that Khaled had feelings for her .

This turn of page in the novel of life was unprecedented and unexpected and she didn't knew how to channel her way out .Was she suppose to skip these paragraphs of life ,act as if they never happened but what about her heart and mind that seemed to have bookmarked this page so crucial that each and everytime she pushed herself to turn the pages of her life ,her mind reverberated with his words and heart thumbed vigorously at the echo created,initiating a cycle: an unending whirlpool of thoughts from which escape seemed unfeasible.