Hope, prayer, and love.

He loves her, or so he thinks. She is a constant hum at the back of his mind – everything he sees, hears , feels - his first thought is of her. He has lost himself to her wholly, and he knows it’s no use denying himself the truth. He wonders if she feels the same way about him, with the same intensity. She indulges him, gives into his every word, hangs on to him -  but perhaps his mind is reading too much into the words she says. Perhaps she is no longer as invested in him as he is in her – he allows himself the delusion. Though it stabs a million knives in his heart – he wants to believe that even after all that has been done and said – she will keep her end of the promise. 

 He is aware of the bleak uncertain future that awaits them, the fight he will have to put up and he knows he will – with every fibre of his being, all the madness in his soul. He knows this secret, this love -it will raise a storm that could possibly obliterate everything that stands in its path. He does not doubt for one second the strength of his love, he is certain of that much and it gives him hope for the future – for them. He has been adamant in this matter and he will remain adamant regardless.

 But he wonders who will be left standing strong after the storm has passed - he fears the end of the battle – he fears the collateral damage. Nothing is gained with out loss,  that is the natural order of this world, to maintain the balance of the universe - for every thing there is a price to pay. The bigger the desire, higher the price.  

He wishes things were easier, and those wishes weigh heavy on his fragile heart. He prays because he doesn’t know what else to do. He puts his hope in the creator of the universe to allow him this pleasure. He knows he is not the most obedient of slaves – but he begs his Master to have mercy on the ones he loves.  He is willing to change himself if it takes. He wakes up late at night – just before dawn, on the advice of a well-wisher. He performs ablution and stands in prayer, he has never felt so helpless before. His prayer is for a miracle, because it would take nothing short of a miracle to bring them together in peace.  He now knows humility before his Lord – knowing only god can work miracles and his faith has ascended to the heavens. 

He laughs amidst the tears he would never admit - this love had changed him, made him a better person – at least in his mind. He falls down in prostration and it is a while before he raises his head, and when he does , his heart is stable. He understands how people of faith seek help and hope in prayer, he realizes that nothing is within his control, and the only way to get what you want is to please the One who can control everything. He raises his hands and lifts his eyes to the sky - God is near, and he prays like his life depends on it.

Come morning - he finishes his prayers and watches the sun rise - just above the horizon, rays of hope, signs of the God he has now placed his trust in. The darkness is always followed by the sun, there is always light at the end. A poem by a sufi poet comes to his mind "

He lets the light illuminate him, fill him with courage to go through the darkness he is facing.   He knows god has a way of doing things and our hearts - they are better left to chance. He rises to face another day away from her - for the sake of the God he loves - his love will soon light up his sky - he only has to wait for the right time, and he will wait with a beautiful patience.

woven image

When I was in second grade, we had a lesson in which a girl’s pen-friend from Russia visits her school and they talk about different cultures and have a good time.  I found it extremely amazing how two people who had never seen each other or been in the same environment could actually become friends, of course I was a kid and I didn’t know better. But it amazed me none the less. And I decided that day that I would have a pen friend. Time flew by faster than I remember and suddenly we were in the world of computers, of electronic mails and world wide web, pretty much grown up and childhood dreams long forgotten.  I was obviously warned by parents about not only not talking to strangers in person but to keep away from strangers online too.  Over time I found and lost many friends. And some remained special, some I am still in touch with, some I lost touch with, some broke my heart. But one particular day while surfing the vast ocean of the net I discovered a dream realised , my childhood dream of wanting a pen-friend. And I narrate (with names changed for obvious reasons).

*italics are Zara's though process.

 

Zara  was sprawled on her sofa, with the laptop in front of her, headphones plugged in, rocking her head to the beat of some new song that was obsessing her, going around a forum reading fanfics to curb her reading desire. She herself had written a few modest ones, nothing compared to the talent on the forum, and  there was so much talent in there that she felt trapped, unable to allow her reading-obsessed heart to escape.  That was when she noticed a new kid on the forum, new stories, new authors - she loved it – it was exciting to be reading a different persons work, new writing styles, new perspectives, new observations to make. She was naturally judgemental, although she hardly allowed it to rule her actions, she liked making observations and checking back on them.  Self – proclaimed psychologist. So she followed what was routine to her - check out the new kids personal info –gauge whether the info seems legit,  make ran-dumb judgements with the info given, check out the written material, make judgements about the authors mindset based on the write-up, check back with personal info to see if it fits, considering it does - feel like a boss, if not – still feel like a boss and wonder whether the write-up is will-full fantasy, or whether the kid is bluffing about personal info.

Any how she seemed to like the new kid’s work and there weren’t too many comments on her write-up. She decided to comment and please, it’s like trying to be friendly to the new kid at school.  You know make her feel at ease, Go easy on her work. Turned out the kid had a blog with a lot of other exceptionally written articles. So Zara decided to comment on her blog to give her a surprise – remember be friendly to the new chick at school. Normal human tendency, right? But technology had other plans in store, somehow her computer didn’t allow her to comment on the blog – she frowned and tried a couple of times. Nope still not working. So she sent a private message asking if there was some particular procedure to comment on her blog, since it wasn’t showing her comment.

And thus began a correspondence, beginning with where exactly do you live (because obviously knowing about a person’s surroundings gives you an insight to the person’s most probable mentality) and going on to more personal discussions about family, occupations, hobbies, likes, dislikes, governments, conspiracies, religions,  ‘deforestation’, boys,  proceeding ever so cautiously toward friendship - Until very subtle declarations of friendship were made in the most acute of words.  If they were together in flesh and blood, the words would have been whispers in the wind- barely heard. A gradual change of writing style took place in their letters (as termed by her brother due to the time she took in writing those replies) , from being cordial to jestfull  leg-pulling, to debating, to daily happenings- discussions of life. They even started their correspondences with discussions about the weather in their respective parts of the world. – something that seemed so sweet to her, it was like wishing the other  was with you in person.  A friendship was forged in two hearts, a sisterhood that was shadowed by blind faith which arises with the choice to trust another person without knowing them. Even when they couldn't keep in touch for a while when they caught up later it was like they had never lost contact - effortless to pick-up where they had left off.

Zara, the dramatic one & Diana, the good girl.

Zara, the hijabi & Diana, the modern.

Zara, the elder mature one and Diana, the kid sis.

So different and yet so same.

As the friendship grew stronger, Diana suggested they meet up. Of course given their ages and places, now was not a good time, and now was going to last for quite a while.  So they wove an image into the future when they would meet.   

Zara was sitting in the uptown café/restaurant.  As usual she was earlier than the given time. Out of habbit more than boredom, she was drinking water and waiting for a dear friend.  Looking around she spotted a young couple – they are not going to make it. He is clearly a player, he will dump her before she knows it. Maybe if she hits the ladies room , I could go in and warn her – but I’d look psycho.

A young girl and an elder woman , probably mother and daughter by the looks if it – obvious physical similarities, but the girl is hiding something from her mother, probably lying this very minute, her body is shifting too much and she seems to be very distracted by someone on her phone. Lying about where & with whom questions, maybe. Poor mother seems distressed.    

A bunch of scantily dressed loud girls – expensive dressing, too much make-up which means they have the time to do that much make up hence jobless, expensive accessories, expensive attitude meaning rich spoilt brats, daddy’s darlings. Backstabbing friends, not one of them looks genuinely interested in what the other is saying. Yet they are cooing Looking at photos on the phone, probably her boyfriend and her, she swells with show-off. Far too much drama in the club.

Another couple – she’s pregnant and terribly upset, he’s apologising , worried about what went wrong. Maybe he hurt her by some dumb thing he said and she’s upset about it , or maybe the hormones are ruling the institution – maybe he does not want the kid, her hand shifts much too protectively and a little too frequently to her swelled up belly. Fear of losing the child. He seems genuinely concerned – he will handle it well, whatever it is. The way he looks at her, shes a lucky girl.  

Zara’s eyes constantly shift to the door. There’s a saying in Arabic that comes to her mind.

Al intezar ashadd al maut – the wait is even more intense than death itself.

But she would rather be the one waiting than to have someone else waiting for her, a trait she inherited from her dad – to never let others wait for you.

A girl of about 20 comes in. Her eyes scan the room resting on the abaya clad Zara for just a fraction of a second before wandering around looking for a vacant seat. She walks in coolly and takes a seat at the table opposite Zara's pretending to be a regular. Dressed in a cute pair of shorts and a vintage t-shirt that showed her  well toned back she looked younger than her age and affordably chic. Zara smiled, Not that anyone could notice through her face cover - I'd wear Something revealing for fun and probably bring you Something quite revealing to wear under your abaya, Diana had joked once.

Has to be her, I am quite sure It's her. Yup she has the northern beauty, looks like a college chic. She looks so much younger in person. But why take another table - She's surely not expecting this place to fill up with abaya draped girls. Maybe she wants me to go ask her. I'll wait and see what she does.

Although Zara meet her gaze more that once, She didn't show any acknowledgement at all. Times up - she's already in town and I fly in the morning and still I'm early and she wants to play around.  Of course she would not waste an opportunity like this. I'll leave and see what she does.

Zara walked briskly past the table with the girl she thought was Diana, wondering what the girl's Reaction would be.

She walked out of the hotel and decided she would wait in the car for a while and see If the girl followed her out. Maybe She wasn't Diana at all. How come she didn't even look all That surprised when I asked for the bill. Either Diana is a very talented actress or she isn't Diana.

That was When Zara Saw her - A girl of about 20 Getting off the back of a bike, Running a quick hand through her Cascading hair, dressed in a denim Capri with a sleeveless hoodie - A very casually sporty Chic. She wore a necklace which made Zara smile. Of course smart move Diana - that's one sure fire way for me to recognise you. I should have guessed you would wear it. She glanced at her watch and was about to move towards the entrance, When the boy she had arrived with took her hand and turned her around, his face frowning and speaking rapidly while she seemed to be answering him in quite a rush. Hm good gene pool In the family - clearly her brother. Does he have a problem with his sister meeting someone she doesn't know by face. Looks protective - Very protective.

Zara got out of her car laughing at herself for the wrong girl she assumed was Diana, and walked across the parking lot, towards her and said excuse me. Diana? She turned around and Zara saw her own excitement mirrored in Diana's eyes as she almost squeaked Zara??

The girls squealed like fan girls as they hugged and Diana's brother looked relieved.  he was probably expecting that she was going to meet some guy& get into trouble, because there really is no reason to be so worried about a consenting adult.  "Don't worry sir, I'll bring your sister home safely " Zara said jestfully to the over concerned bro as Diana rolled her well defined eyes "Please I'm not exactly a child "  He smiled a smile that showed he was her brother as he ruffled his little sister's hair earning a playful frown and a soft punch in the arm and said "Of course not you are just a bundle of wild trouble - infact ma'am I must warn you " They laughed and he left. Shall we?  Asked Zara and Diana nodded. They walked back in to find the waiter surprised at the return of the girl who had been sitting at a table for about twenty minutes replenishing the Hotel's water supply and then unexpectedly leaving And now returning. 

They ordered little food and more of deserts - both deciding that inspite of being figure conscious this was a moment to celebrate. Zara was an expert at eating under the face veil, while Diana was amused beyond speech to know that someone could eat comfortably under layers of clothing.

After they talked about everything under the sun and finally finished their lunch, Zara suggested they go shopping cuz chics got to shop together - By default. They were the most unlikely two out there - one completely conservative clad in black the other a little too modern.  After 'some' absolutely unnecessary shopping they took a cab back to Zara's place. Diana informed her brother she would be staying over at Zara's for the weekend, since taking permission would not have been useful they had decided to let him know last minute. Of course it took a lot of convincing on Zara's part and hell loads of pleading on Diana's.

They stayed up long after the stars were out planning lunches and dinners and spas and malls and cafes and bookstores and parlours and boutiques and all the fun they could have in a span of two days. Bangalore was quite a large place and they had to spend more time together. They would not get a good chance to do this again - not in the near future.  Soon it would be back to I'm-sorry-for-the-late-reply-to-your-mails and trying to fix a Skype date and sharing virtual cups of tea.  While Diana had just gotten to Bangalore a week ago to join in for her masters and would be staying with her bro in his apartment with her sis-in-law, Zara had flown down the very morning from Mumbai where she actually lived with her hubby-boy and in-laws for just the weekend. So instead of staying at Diana's place they were staying at Zara's place. They ordered in pizza for dinner and watched chic flicks, cried together and talked 'some' more. The excitement was more than obvious by the fact that neither could actually feel fatigue or slumber. So they talked until the moon tired away and waited out the sunrise from Zara's balcony. Pasts were revealed, secrets were brought out from their sealed hearts, futures were travelled, wine was tried (first time for Diana),  & all in the matter of a few hours they had turned from friends to soul sisters- almost family. The element of mystery had finally been solved - the curtain raised,  after the many years of knowing a person virtually to meet them in reality, to receive and give the hugs, to actually lol, to witness the imagined smiles and laughter  - it was simply exciting. 

After a weekend well spent mostly going around in Zara's favourite rental - the Chevy impala 67, wheels hot, music loud, windows rolled down, singing along the radio, stopping only to check out different places  and coming home long after the moon was up, Zara returned to Mumbai to her hubby-boy with recent discovery of her pregnancy and Diana joined college with hopes higher than the clouds and better knowledge of the city's hotspots. As Diana was unpacking the 'small' bag she had packed for the stay over she found a small package well-wrapped alongside an origami lily - she smiled as she pulled the flower apart to find a message from the only non-fictional person she knew who did that. And loved to surprise others.

There's more than one kind of family you know and I think we just found it. May you find blessings and joy and hope and guidance and friendship and love in this journey of yours.

May angels watch over you.

Hasta manyana.

Zara.

and that is why he loves her

He tossed and turned again, the sound of the cat - helplessly meowing in the chilly night - it was hurting his ears. Then it grew quiet outside. Just as he almost reached the threshold of deep sleep it started again. It pained him to be able to hear the cat. He wished he could turn a deaf ear but the meowing kept haunting him. He opened the window and squinted as his ageing eyes tried to find a cat probably stuck under a car or something in the empty night.

He put on a woollen cap and went into the kitchen closing the bedroom door behind him & turned on the light in the kitchen. He turned around to check that the light was not by any chance lighting up his room, waking up his wife. She hated to be disturbed while sleeping. He took out a plastic bowl,  wide but shallow and a half full bottle of milk.

When he reached the door, she crept up behind him and said Pappa where are you going at this time. He smiled like a little boy off on an adventure and said come with me I'll show you. She ran into her room quickly and wrapped her blanket around herself and came out.

Together they left the house stealthily like thieves in the night. They went down three flights of stairs and came upon the main road just in front of the building. His eyes squinting again as she looked at him surprised beyond wonder. Pappa it's so cold - what are we doing out here- the excitement evident in her voice. Ssh he whispered can you hear a kitten?  She nodded no her brows almost colliding into each other as she strained her ears,  closing her eyes.

And then as if they had called out to the kitten it mewed. They followed the sound across the road to under the pile of cartons someone had thrown from their balcony. He handed the bowl and bottle over to her and quietly lifted the big cardboard boxes one by one and voila - there was the feline damsel in distress. She looked barely a week old. He cautiously moved his hands towards the kitten as his daughter held her breath in anticipation. The kitten had been separated from its mother too early to understand how to judge the people's actions - Just a scared little baby out alone in the big bad world. Her heart felt sorrow for the kitten as she tried to claw at her father's hands. But he picked up the kitten despite its fruitless struggling and motioned to his daughter to follow him. Can you carry a small carton with that bowl princess? He whispered to her. Why she questioned but didn't wait for an answer- her own excitement was rising high.  They crossed two more roads in the silence of the night and reached a little vegetable shop. He asked her to put down the cartoon and placed the kitten inside it along with the bowl. Why here Pappa? She asked in a whisper - because speaking out loud felt like invading the silence of the night (and because nobody speaks loudly on secret adventures - you have to be discreet). Life insurance for the cat he winked as he whispered back to her. The owner of that shop loved cats more than his own life - he would be incapable of letting go of a weak lonely kitten and he would certainly take good care of it.  She smiled as it all made sense to her tired little sleepy brain. He was still staring at the meek kitten - she shivered in the cold. He took off his woollen cap, picked up and placed the kitten inside it and then set it down again. They waited a couple of minutes until the kitten warmed up and instead of staring at them started drinking the milk. They had just walked a few steps away when the kitten mewed again - they turned around to see the kitten standing up staring knowingly in their direction - and like offering a solemn thanks she nodded and settled down again in the cap.

By now the drowsiness took over her and she almost dozed off while standing. Her father picked her up and wrapped the small blanket tighter around her petite form and carried her home. All the while she was contemplating how heroic her dad was - just like the valiant kind generous strong knights in the books - who gave compassion and humanity more value than their own comfort - the kind her second grade homeroom teacher had said didn't exist anymore - only she now knew they did.  It made her smile to imagine her dad like a knight - it would be funny in today's world. Nice dream I suppose - he teased her as he put her down carefully in her bed and she half opened her sleepy eyes and kissed him goodnight for the second time tonight, holding his rough hand in her two small ones and said Pappa this is why I love you.

His heart soared into the heavens as it did every time he heard those words, those sacred words spoken with innocent intensity. For moments like these-for those butterfly kisses, for that smile on her beautiful face - he would slave away at that dreadful office,  for his daughter to have all the happiness in the world - he would put up with his devil of a boss.

For every jolt of joy he receives when he sees his daughter rise up, for every time she shows her childlike maturity, for the tide of emotions that drowns him when her eyes light up with laughter, for every silly prank she plays, for every single time she reminds him of himself, for every time she becomes an image of her mother, for the pride that illuminates his heart when she comes first in her class, or when she takes a decision or even when she learns something new, for the grief that kills him when he sees tears in those big curious eyes, for the fear he had never known before but feels so strongly now when he sees or hears about the evil in the world, for the responsibility that overcomes him when she holds his hand while crossing the street, or climbing the bus or when her expectant ever-curious eyes search for answers in his,  for the moments between the minutes when he winks at her and she giggles, for these kind of secret adventures they have - for that feeling of contentment, for that peaceful beating of his heart in the knowledge that he has been the world's bestest father as she likes too put it, to always remain the bestest father in the eyes of his princess - he would do any thing,  he would move heaven and earth if he could for her. He would fight all the demons within, he would never slip into his past, for her he would be a better person ,for her he would give his all.

In that one second he is burdened by all that he feels, experiences - but like the weight of the wings - the burden lifts him - allows him to fly.

And that is why he loves her. But instead of telling her all that - he plants an affectionate kiss on her forehead and says may all your dreams come true. His every isolated heartbeat- a prayer for her.