Euphoria III

Read Euphoria II here.

They had come quite some way from the grand entrance; leaving the city capital behind, seemingly walking together now along the lush border. His pace was fast but firm, hers had substantially increased but cautious still. Anybody watching them from a distance would have noticed how she’d been trying to keep up with him. Step by step. Stealing blushful glances on him. Curling her fingers firm around his hand every time they’d slip lose. She was unaware of where they were heading, and unaware she chose to remain. Her heart had found a genuine guide, directions concerned her no more. She had handed her trust, the only possession that ever belonged with her, to him. She was convinced he’d keep it safe. She was sure, he’d not let go of her hand that he had bravely held. Despite them being unusually similar, there were differences that both were aware of. To him, they secretly mattered. But on her part, she was confident.

***

He weighs everything that comes his way, she takes as it is offered. He believes she expects him to be like that huge mountain range of red sand that protects the city of Euphoria, taking the changing weathers and unpleasant raids of time all on itself; hard and still. She on the other hand maintains him like a thick bank of cloud, which is soft and moving, sheltering her from the ruthless sun; and when it’s grey and heavy with gloom, it trusts her enough to pour down all its pain upon her. She rather conceives him that way, than to be unmoving and lifeless like a mountain that lacks the ability to trust and in its sheer arrogance idealizes itself to be self sufficient. She wants him to be like that flexible cloud which knows moving in isolation wouldn’t take it nowhere; which knows how its existence would plainly evaporate in the hollow wind should it hold on within itself. That free spirited bank of cloud which will top all the mountains and cross all the valleys, together with her. That is how she wants him to be. He is, however, far from knowing. And she is yet to tell.

She still gets intrigued by the sight of young pollens twirling with the wind. She still catches the flying feather between her fingers. She solemnly holds her breath if ever a fallen star shoots by. She still collects the beach leaves and looks up to him to complete the wish spell, like he used to. But he correctly remembers that no more. She would throw tiny red hollies playfully at him. He would seldom respond. She would heartily pluck and toss lavender alyssums to him, he would only smile. It secretly surprises her how little things as these no more appear meaningful to him. And how that which she doesn’t quite approve of, charms him. She brings herself to terms with this anyhow, remembering the vow she had made that evening: a little sacrifice for each others’ happiness, a little patience through a time tough and a time unfavorable.

The weather has changed pretty much ever since the city capital has been crossed. The sky is no more blue. The crispy winter hail keeps blowing, with a rough shower every now and then. Her satin gown is soaked and her henna painted feet are now covered in mud. The kohl has washed out, leaving uneven black smudges below her eyes. Her hair that was made beautifully adorned with pink jasmines and white lilies, is now damp and flowing loose. To him, she looks ethereal all the same. Or so she believes. Nothing matters to her as long as she has him next with her. Neither the rain, nor the wind. Neither her kohl smudged eyes, nor her messed up hair. Neither his forgetfulness, nor his sudden soberness. She had left all the strings behind that ever tied him. Or so she thought. For her, nothing had changed much. She was still completely in the state of Euphoria, still rejoicing the festivity of their togetherness. For her, the magic had remained.

For him, however, the change in weather brought a change in design. The river fell into stillness. He came to a sudden halt. His face was clouded. What it meant, she couldn’t fathom. But soon enough, she learned what would follow. He looked deep into her eyes, touched her soul, and breaking a vow of never leaving, he vowed to return. Stunned and numb, all she managed to muster up was a faint smile.

Why she made no attempt to stop him, because he had already warned her. She was, yet again, proven wrong for thinking he acknowledges her little authority that she believes to have developed on him over this journey. With every step that he made away, she was driven deeper into a shell. Receiving the meaningful blows of pouring rain, she collapsed down at a fallen log and fixated her eyes at his shrinking image. He glanced back at her for one last time –something broke inside her –and without a word, without a sign, in the middle of an unknown journey, leaving her all on her own –he disappeared around the corner…

From now onwards, she will no more delight in slumber. She will now wait. Wait for the sky to turn blue again. Wait, for him to return.

Read Euphoria IV here

February

Ever since New Year’s Eve, I feel like a lot of time has passed. But it’s just February yet. Why is it that when we want the time to pass quickly, it crawls like a lethargic snail. And when we want it to stop, it flies by in a blink of an eye? A lot has happened in this span of time. Little little events, that somehow forced me back into a shell that I had left after persevere insistence; gradually decreasing the enthusiasm that I had maintained for this year. I seldom get to see any stars at night these days. The magic line seems to have depleted. Few expectations gone wrong, few plans modified, few beliefs altered –and that too just in the beginning of the year that in my Utopia I had marked to be the one which will be the brightest of all the years I have seen so far. Or maybe, it’s just too early for me to pass any such declaration.
 

I don’t know why  Having so much difficulty moving on and worrying about things that are not in my control. I’ve always known I have self-deceptive tendencies. I find it difficult to register painful, almost unreal truths. I go into a state of sharp denial, pretending to be still ignorant; conveniently hiding myself from all the glaring realities. That is one reason why I sleep a lot when upset. Lying under my quilt, I feel safe. Hidden from the world, hidden from my own self. Hidden from the fears that desire to savage me, hidden from my own life that can suddenly pounce on me whenever it would want.

Hidden and invisible.

But for how long…

The lump in my heart is getting heavier. Day by day. But I’m not letting it take the toll on me. Not yet.  I’m not letting it lose as yet. Not unless I know everything. Not unless I earn every single right to set it free and let the pain prevail. Not yet. So as for now, I’m setting about doing all that might provide me with the slightest of joy, which sooner or later I’m sure to miss. A part of me suggests I must take a break from all this thinking. Perhaps I really think too much. But then, I’m also not being helped! The reasons just keep increasing. And then they come looming over me and I lose my touch. I have been blaming myself for thinking too much –losing my appetite in this course –and creating a problem that wasn’t even there. I am doing that no more. I have reasons valid enough to think. And worry. And join the dots to find out what life has in store for me. Last week I went over to stay with my grandmother. Naani. She knows me best. She could see right through me, no matter how normal I try to behave. I kept avoiding eye contact with her the whole time, but in vain. I knew she wouldn’t let it go and honestly, I didn’t want her to let it go either. She asked my mum to let me stay with her tonight. I knew it was time I tell her all that’s been piling up on me. For how long can one bare to handle the fears all alone? She made me sit close and asked me to tell her every single thing that’s been causing me to cry abruptly at about every little thing. You know how some feelings are? Too difficult to be correctly articulated. I finally allowed it to come out in incoherent and broken syllables. She tenderly hugged me when I was finally done. I never knew she could be so understanding about certain matters. The warmth of her motherly embrace somehow healed the brokenness that was aching my soul. All my insecurities were gone for that instance. I felt safe, invisible almost. It was the prime of vulnerability. I was drained and tired; as weak as I could ever be. Helpless. It was the moment I realized I’ve become somebody I was sure I’d never be. An uninterested, desolated, vulnerable person. Few of the possible harsh truths she told me broke my heart. I cried bitterly and she allowed me to empty myself right before her. But she also told me that I must remain positive. That if I’ve made a vow, I must stand by it and cooperate with the troubles somebody could be going through. I must understand the reasons. She told me that I must wait and cling to what I’ve been holding on to since the very beginning. Faith. She told me, “You prayed at every step, didn’t you? So if you believe Lights have guided you up till here, you must know that Lights will guide you further on.”  She held me close and with her hand in my hair, she soothed me to sleep. I chose to rely on what she’d said. I have soaked all of it in. Believing was a choice I made a few months ago. I am not going to abandon it.  My fears however remain, but they have taken a back seat for now.

I guess in my desire of making things great, I am unknowingly ignoring the good that I already have. Perhaps it’s time I refrain just a little from caring too much. It’s time I fight off certain unnecessary fears. It’s high time I return to people who STILL care. A few days ago a friend told me she’s likely to get a brain hemorrhage worrying about me. I am a selfish thankless person. Another concerned friend genuinely looking into my eyes told me I must not take life so seriously…  She is probably right. I must return to being the light happy person that I’ve always been. So here’s the plan. This week, typical desi breakfast at Sufi’s Dhaba it is! *cross*A movie day out and Cream Cheese Pasta party with these girls. *cross* A combine Skype conference with my school mates. *double cross* I am  planning on attending the Sindhi Festival that’d be coming to Karachi in a week or so as well, with a friend who is just the right amount of insane as I am. *final cross* And, I’m also on to cook something for Amma this very month. *a tentative cross*…
I need to do all this before I get buried under heaps of course work. This semester is going to be tough. Like, toughhhhh. And I say that about every semester. No, really, this is tough!!! But it’s better that way, I guess. The busier I’d be, the lesser I’d get to attend to myself and the fears that will eventually find their way back.

I hope to return with a post much happier than this one. Every year at the commencement of a new semester our university organizes a grand book fair. You can find about every book just there and that too at a very reasonable cost. There are two books I am yearning to get my hands on. How It Happened by Shazaf Fatima Haider and The Time Keeper by Mitch Albom. I might mention what a good read they turned out to be, making my next post naturally a pleasant one.

And by the way, I still strongly consider myself blessed. For reasons that from hindsight I can tell I’d be revealing soon enough. 

 ...

I hope not. I hope not.