An Epilogue

There was a great u-turn in my life when I lost something most precious in November seven years ago - my courage, my sacrifices and what  I lived for.  It was the most painful tragedy I had ever endured after a year of battling and struggling to resume a normal life with great hope and confidence. I could not help myself into grieving and mourning until I lost my voice and my eyes were swollen and that the doctor strongly advised me to stop weeping otherwise I would likely to lose my vision. It was months later before I could finally accept the fact that nothing in this world is immortal and forever there to exist in life.

Learning myself to lead the days as ordinary as possible, I carried out my routines at my new ambience where I was relocated a few months after I moved out to the present new home. Life gradually began to change to normalcy as I came to like my new environment. I found freedom being all by myself more exciting although there were times I missed my old days. I kept reminding myself that everything happens for a reason and that I should carry on with my life without it. Lamenting what was lost would only make my life more complicated. I had my privacy and I made my own decisions without misgivings and the feelings of doubt or second thoughts. More importantly I was satisfied with who I was then- independent, happier and financially stabled. At last I was the CE of my life!

Everything seemed perfect and without fault for seven long years ahead. Until one day in April 2016, I got myself clicked so easily to a hombre from beyond the sea. I thought I had enough sufferings and that enough was enough as I had built a strong wall of defence so high that I made certain no one could ever able to climb it over. However this one chap had managed to break my fortress as easy as falling off the log. I fell and drowned into his words of praise and appreciations. My life wàs swayed off course and I was trapped into the webs of uncertainty, hopelessness and expectations once again.  I lost all rationale and considerations and that I began to get inspired to write and spilled my heart out on the paper. I spent every hours, days and weeks  writing and pouring my despairing heart into my journal pages and blog. It was a horrible undescribable feeling when you need someone and that the reality was you couldn't have it. It was worst than facing death itself!

And after much brainstorming and deep thoughts, I realized I had to deal with this stumbling block that was hurdling me the whole year. I wanted to conclude 2016 with a brave act, an epilogue to this melancholy once and for all. No matter how the consequences would be, either I had to swim cross the oceans or soaring the endless blue skies, I had to come face to face with my nightmare - the General from the Cold Mountains!

Stairways To Heaven

The school break has just commenced. She was waiting for this moment to settle an important task. Right then she had no companionship to lend a helping hand, so she just undoubtly boarded a double-decker bus that Monday morning heading towards the metropolis. It was in conjunction with a public holiday and that the journey was rather slow-moving as the highways were heavy. It took her a lousy 12 hours of boring trip to finally reach the 400 km destination which usually could just be done in 6-7 hours. She chose to just travel by road, as air tickets were much too high for a 45-minute's fly especially during the holiday seasons like ths.

Two days earlier, it was so stressful for her. She spent hours, re-checking to confirm her online reservations. She went wild and crazy when it was stated 'cancelled' and 'expired' on the screen. How could it be when she was already given the confirmation the day she booked it months ago. She got panicked and that she took a drastic move. Booked another flight! Because a duplicate of the authorization must be attached when applying for the visa as evidence of the travel and that she couldn't afford to jeopardize the whole scheme after all. The first booking problem would be dealt later as all her calls were repeatedly unresponded. Only when the second booking was completely done that the agent issued a reply to all her enquiries. She should have her aviation bookings checked and confirmed with the airlines. Oh dear! She rushed to the airport to have this clarified otherwise it would be another long night for her. What a comfort when she was made clear that her air trip on the stated date and destination were valid and authenticated and that her double booking would be refunded and credited back into her account.

First thing the next morning, she headed to one of the agents authorized by the embassy to submit her application forms. She chose to deal with an agent in a small town nearby her vicinity to avoid the usual long queues at the main centre in the heart of the city. It took her only less than two hours before she was called up to the front desk to have her thumbs and finger prints taken and that the documents were ready to be picked up after three working days. Sighing a deep long breath, she drove off to get a nice breakfast of Roti Canai with curry dressing at a Mamak Restaurant, a 10-minute's drive away, feeling a lot relief and soothing.

However, there was something else that kept haunting her which was giving her the spooks and creeps. She was aware of the recent chaotic situation in the country she was going due to the demonetization of the 86% valuable currency in the country which has ttiggered a severe cash crunch. The country had run out of cash and the masses were taken by surprise overnight. She has been following news of how bad the situation that had befallen the nation. The populations were panicked stricken. Some had reached their limits of coping and lost insanity and that they even took desperate measures. There were reports of strings of death during long serpentine queues at the ATMs and banks, less not cases of dramatic suicides. In fact humanity in this part of the globe was at the edge.

And how could she still have the courage and intentions to let herself be in that tensed environment? She has been quizzing her senses and rationality since the November announcement. Wasn't it just like purposely indulging herself into a big trouble unecessarily? Having thought long enough, she had no choice but to just move forward with the scheme. This unexpected situation could not sway her off course and destroy her rendezvous. Someone was there to assist her and she trusted him more than anything else in the world, hence this well-planned voyage was going to be as scheduled and that the sailing was definite.

She knew if there's a will, there's a way.

Crossroads of Enchantment

Quite often these days she stood for hours looking at the person in the mirror. Ogling deeply at the image wondering how would the turns of event be when they met. Would she only injure her dignity and self respect of having such an unfitting intentin?

The person looking back at her in the mirror is now a stranger, so different and totally contrasting from whom she knew a few years back. The reflection seems to have changed a lot physically. She looks as though she has entirely lost hope and confidence of herself. She has lost the battle against nature. There is less enthusiasm in her face expression. Those eyes are now not focused and no longer sparkles. The stares showed years of sufferings and there are lines in her face and she looks ancient. She has bags under her eyes like bags of sand or cement, old and tired but sharp and fierce at the same time, giving the look of those that have shed tears of despair and hopelessness. The branded glass frame she wears could never conceal those eyes, which has grown dull and cloudy as she had seen too much sufferings. Yet her smiles and giggles remain sweet and exciting. People could not easily guess her genuine length of life as she is a small thing, and always stimulating and in good spirit. She looks like a sweet lady full of wisdom and wonderful, with exciting stories and experiences to share. At least that is what they say of her. 

All she could think of is, only him. If only she could be sure he would just forget about the pieces of her that she tries to cover up and accept the pieces that she thinks are unattractive, especially the ones she tries to hide,  she would not be at this point of no return, in this entanglement and puzzle. She wants him to want her for all that she is not,  for just the way she is for she will not let a man touch her unless he has completely touched her heart and soul, respects her and doesn't force her to compromise with her values and ethics. Could he be trusted to be just as one?

She's in the hour of decision, in such a dilemma. She wants to distance herself from him, but yet she doesn't want to lose him. She craves him in ways she can't articulate. She longs for his presence to wrap himself around her and flood her fears aside. 

Unbreak My Heart

I have to be pleased and give in to whatever I gain and come into and that I should not be possessive. There were no vows, promises nor oaths to whatever,  and that I should not bargain for more than just what I was designated. Make no move and just let the nature takes its course. I should know my limits and boundaries and that being grateful is what I should be. Yes, of course I am extremely indebted and thankful for the good turns. I thank you for the little chats and concerns. I really treasured and valued those little whiles. 

However, the truth is some people they don't love us. They don't even care about us. They just want to stay connected. So they do the minimal. A little phone call here and there, just checking on us. What they are really doing is maintaining the connection so when they need you or want you, they still have a  way in.  But bear in mind that every time you take her for granted, you're just teaching her how to live without you. Be careful how far you push her away, coz she could end up liking it there.

Sometimes walking away is the only option. Not because you want to make someone miss you or realize they took you for granted, but because you finally respect yourself enough to know that you deserve better.  When your absence doesn't alter their life, then your presence has no meaning in it. Don't trust everything you see... even salt looks like suar.
I know I'm not perfect. Not compatible and was so wrong to get attached to anyone. Worst still, if you fall with the wrong person, for the wrong reasons and at the wrong time.  You know you never plan to get trapped in this game but when you said you love someone, you really mean it and will do anything to keep it. You're faithful and you're loyal.  All you wanted was an effort to show the part to let you know that you're wanted and not just being taken for granted. If you couldn't do it, that's when it became 'The End".

My Tango

We chatted and expressed our feelings and ideas now, more often than not, and that he left me less lonely and gloomy. I could go through my day- to-day routines and habits in good spirits and moods.  In the evenings, I went out loitering at my chosen spots, but it is not too frequent now. My most-liked place is the mini cafe at the east entrance of the Aeon Mall. I accommodated myself on the usual best favoured stool at the long wooden bench, either scrolling and surfing the net or just taking out my notebook which I always have with me in my bag, and wrote something, whatever crossed my mind, like the one I'm writing now.

I was accustomed to the female cafe barristers  and that they often gave me polite words as a sign of welcome and recognition the moment they saw me advancing towards them.

"Welcome again, Madam" they greeted and grinned like a Cheshire cat. I ordered a cup of coffee as usual and just before I entered the corner, I bought myself a piece of fresh baked croissant at the bakery next to it. I liked this spot as it was not packed or full to bursting and was allocated with a little privacy, just nice for a tete-a-tete and lepakking. I lingered and lodged there for as long as I desired. 

Having seated comfortably , I began to jot down. He was always there in my mind and heart, never a second he wasn't there. He was my inspiration, my vision. People may wonder and marvel what had made me ever so damn hounded and taken over by this name.  I would say nothing. Because it is my essence, my personality!

When I love or like someone, nothing or no one could say about that, which would affect the opinions of what I hold in. Once I have made up my mind, I am fixed in my opinions, thoughts and beliefs,  worry not about rumours, naysayers or poison pens.  I trust my instincts and give great attention to details, planning and imagining my future while thoroughly enjoying the mindfulness of the present. Of course I do love to be courted, pursued and wooed like the others. As long as one take good care of me, I will take good care of one. I maybe slow in making a decision but once I am firmed and it will be difficult to change the path I have chosen.

I love to enjoy music and I have the ability to sometimes tune-in to my partner's needs, wishes and moment's desires.

I'm rather quiet but easy going. I respond extremely well to anyone who can capture my heart and make me feel secure and comfortable and he happens to have that kind of know-how. It may take quite sometime before I open up and blossom with sex, but the wait is worth it, especially when I am deeply in love - what I do, I do well, really well and I got better with time. I could be boasting a bit.

I can become possessive in love without a little deep heartfelt communication. I like to share feelings and I expect a lot from my partner - communication will be important to me throughout the relationship. I may be a bit demanding, perhaps try to share the thoughts, ideas and needs with me. I find value in communication. Frankly I am extremely generous. If there is something that he needs, and he let me know, I will bend over backwards to make it happen. I don't get angry easily, but when I do, I just become silent and cold, giving you the subtle hints at first, and then when the right moment comes, I will erupt like a volcano spewing hot rage and you will never want to be in my line of fire. And that only happens at desperate measures once in a blue moon, sometimes never at all.

I find him a compatible partner. He draws me out of my shell emotionally. The chemistry between him and me is strong, making an exceptionally satisfying. We might be slow to get things going and that we were once close to breaking off,  but our relationship develops, and we expect a long and happy connection together. We both don't know how long this attachment and coupling would last but all we know is that there is a great bond and correspondence between both of us and that we would like to keep it this way as long as it takes. When the time comes for us to let go, we will accept the fact that our roads taken have finally come to a dead end. Hopefully it would not happen so soon and painfully. ❤

The Myth of Candour

Honestly I don’t have the confidence. I don’t really have the trust either. What I justly am very definite is my emotional state. I adored this one name very deeply – simply untainted love and nothing else in between, no whys and wherefores of any kind, only man-to-man and without beating about the bush. And that I did not even design to be in this circumstance either. I fell for him instantaneously for what he is as a mortal.
Not once had I confronted with this person and I could tally the number of whiles we ever chatted. I could certainly not get his face mask expressions to ascertain whether his language was the truth or a simple white lie. I just loved him bluntly and genuinely from the bottom of my heart. 

I never ever undisclosed of how I sensed, what I reflected and what I expected from him. It had never been a tall tale. And he was responsive to it. Never once as I recalled, he turned his back on me or ever he articulated despising me and that I was only building castles in the air. It had been many full-moons since we've been hot and heavy. He gave me the impression that he was in this game, so I took it for granted that he did have some likings and fondness upon me and that I allegedly accepted it as not a one-sided affair which made me kept clinging to him until now, even though many times I was caught in between a tale and a truth. I was obsessed, so lustful and erotic that I could not afford to let him unattached, denying my own waking senses. I am a stubborn person. Being stubborn really just means I am unwilling to compromise on the things I find important to me. When I care for someone, I am dedicated to them and I may treat them a bit like my prized possession- my lucky romantic partner. I will standby for them forever. I am sensitive but I never hold grudges.

I am a similarity to this nice line said by a broken heart, ‘Please don’t come one more time in front of me, otherwise I’ll trust you again…’  I’m much too honest and forgiving and merciful to people I care. How could I not be?  It is my sweet-natured - my persona and uniqueness and that quite often and many times in my life, people took advantage of my oddity.

I have always had this feeling of surprise mingling in my mind that, why some people they were not heroic enough to express and uncloak their truth. Keeping or telling one’s true hunch and stance is either way, painful and throbbing,  but it is better to kill it in one shot then to murder someone in slow death. Be bold and speak up the truth. Stop masquerading!

The Sensuous Encounter

It was all in her imaginations. All that she wanted to do to him when they met. She still couldn’t believe she had actually come to him. She was having a hard time falling asleep the night before the big day. She would take the midday flight from her hometown to the capital city before boarding the next airship heading west. She was counting every tick of the seconds throughout the five-hour journey.

Expecting he gave her the astonished look, she was thrilled it had the opposite effect. He smiled briefly, walking through the crowds towards her. Breathless, her heart thudding against her chest. She watched his long strides take him swiftly towards her.  The expression on his face made her suddenly uncertain. He had seemed like such a gentleman. Had she misjudged him? Inhaling deeply to gain her confidence, she dragged her half-full suitcase, and quickened her pace towards him. She was filled with nervousness and doubts. But she brave herself and acted that she was just okay. Their eyes met and he threw her a smile - the prettiest smile she had ever seen. He was tall, with a pair of gorgeous eyes and the stare was so intense and there’s a little bit of devil in those eyes. Chest tight with emotions and feelings she could barely comprehend. Her heart fluttered so hard that she felt it could burst and stop beating.

‘Hi… !’  his familiar hoarse voice broke the ice, while he held out his hand for a shake. She gave a soft reply she knew he barely heard. Her breath hitched at the explosion of feeling and thought thrumming through her. He looked so dominant, so beautiful, like he was created specifically for seduction. Holding out her hand to accept the shake and that their skins touched for the first time. Blood gushing through her veins giving her the uneasy sense of tremendous desires. It felt as if all the air had been suddenly sucked out of her chest. 
She felt a rush of heat climbed her neck and bathed her cheeks, and she paused a while, overcome by the fluttery feeling in her stomach. She pulled him closer and hugged him so tightly , her arms wrapped around his body for a second, 'This is me...Please don't hate me.. ' and she tilted her head to look up at him and gave him a deep kiss on his cheeks. She was aware that he could sense the pounding of her heart on his chest. He was warm and human after all.  Her lips trembled for a second before she finally put on a smile. Words failed her and she was speechless. She shivered, surprised and ashamed at the way her body reacted to him. But her mind battled between what was right and what felt wonderful.

Once they had gotten over their awkwardness, helping her with the luggage bag, he ushered her out of the crowded hall and hailed a taxi to take her to their love nest. 

Bury The Hatchet

She had lost all expectation in him. She had moved heaven and earth to forget him.  She occupied most of her afternoons writing in her instagram and blog. She hadn't written anything since 2011 and suddenly she had millions of things to write about.

It was right when she spoke she could only compose when she was temperamental. She wrote her heart out - every tiny sentiment, passion and emotions, her agonies and her unbearable pains. She exerted herself to block him out of her senses.  She found no reasons and excuse to keep in touch with him any longer at this time. After that one desperate call, she one more time,  stubbornly tried her karma and checked on him on one ocassion,  but as predicted,  he would not retaliate or make an easy, smooth sailing respond.

From then on, she began to drill herself hard to turn a blind eye to his existence. All she wanted was to erase and delete him entirely  from her life history. Oh, too bad,  no matter how hard she made an effort, his shadowy ghost, kept haunting her, poignant and evocative.  She gave her best shot to divert herself by going for breakneck drives and forcing herself stayed up in front of the idiot box till late hours.  She did her damnedest act, by making friends with the others abundantly found on the social websites in the intentions of drawing him away from her mind completely. But it went on a blink, unsuccessful. They were no match for him. Her stubborn heart never wanted to surrender and that it still longed for him. It really was killing her softly. She didn't know what to do with herself. She was obsessed and bewitched by this particular young man.

Even so, she had befriended this one gentleman, also his countryman, from the capital town of his valley. A nice chap who managed a travel agent business. When she joked that she was making plans to visit his cold country in autumn the following year with a bunch of her friends, he emailed her the full details of the trip itinerary and that he would arranged himself as the tour guide with a special rate discount.  He made it clear that the cost would be less expensive if she came in bigger groups.  He was very cooperative and could bear with her every silly questions she asked.

She told him that she had someone she knew from one of the districts there and she asked for his favour if he could take her to that place to look for her lover if her September trip became a reality. He assured her confidently that it was not a big problem.  He would assist her to get to the address. She laughed herself out when the travel agent took her idea humorlessly and that her skillful act was a success. She was actually misleading him and that she would not really go looking for him even if she was there for real. She was still under control although she appeared to be so desperate.  It was an insanity to do such an act.  She was merely fantasizing.

Then, to her surprise,  one fine day, she received a text from him confirming that he was then in the capital city at his relative's. She was thankful that he had finally back to the comfort zone and that she would not to be worried about his safety anymore.  She could sense the difference in his attitude. He was more frank, communicative and approachable. He was more sharing and that she was made aware of his whereabouts and well-being. They both became quite attached from day to day. She was overwhelmed with the change in him. As days went by,  she began to think about fleeing to meet up and came face to face with him for once in her lifetime.

Passion Masquerade

It was a week before Eid. She opened a box containing an item which she kept hidden in the drawer for so long. It was intended to replace the worthless souvenir previously sent which she took on board when she joined a trip to the neighbouring state, but it turned out to be flabby and loose for his size and that she took a new effort to get a fresh one for a spare. However she kept delaying sending it, as she was conscious he was giving the impression that he took no more interest in her.
Be that as it may,  she stubbornly decided to courier the package as an Eid gift, because after all it was meant for him in the first place. No accompanying messages, nor notes or whatsoever, only 'Jane Doe’ written on the courier form as the sender as she was too afraid to say anything anymore. It was supposedly reached him on the eve of the big day. Then she came across his status on the social media, declaring that he was not available for seven consecutive days and would not be rejoicing Eid at home. Reading-through a few remarks on his wall, she discovered that he had journeyed to another state, Haryana, for his an interview. It was not a maiden's name as she thought at first, it was referred to a place.  After much thought, she dared herself and threw him a note informing him of the bundle she posted. She sensed his cold, unfriendly manner, saying that he was not in the condition of checking mails. 
She was deeply upset and agitated by the reply. There was no warmth in him as if he wished to be left alone and didn’t need to have any more links with her and that she felt she was trespassing his privacy. She was in the wrong, so she took it as a hint which she deserved and that she should have long learnt her lessons. She should stop being clingy and she spoke no more after that. A fortnight passed by, the gift was left untraceable and unappreciated.

One afternoon, she was troubled by a news. An upheavel erupted in his valley. His people's combative hero was shot dead in a retaliation with the Army forces. She still never gave up hope and constantly glancing ridiculously at  her phone screen expecting some news from him. Weeks passed and she was restless. She could no longer tolerate the unsureness. Once more she faced herself to just ignore her ego, her self respect.  She had to call him up when all her messages were left unattended. Her first attempt was unsuccessful. She tried the second time and there was someone over the line. It was him. She was so relief. Hearing his voice after such a long silence was something inexpressible. The few seconds on the line was just enough to make her a day. The connection was weak and that she had a hard time to comprehend his thick accent but she knew he was with his family. Safe and sound. 

'I love you…’ she uttered shakily, before she ended the call and she overheard him echoed at the end of the line, ‘ I love you, too’. Those were beautiful words spoken spontaneously but that had not made her feel contented totally.  It was no better than a masquerade, a passion in desperation, yet it was just enough to ease the bleeds of her wounds.

Crime of Passion

Day to day she tried to convince her ridiculous thoughts to acknowledge the fact that the young man whom she was on tenterhooks,  was undeniably not doomed for her. Her devotions was a misconduct - a crime! He was a complete foreigner, an alien, existing thousands of miles away, and it was a mission impossible for both of them to be brought back together. The windfalls were not heading her way. 

A couple of times she had this nightmare. A beautiful one. A dream full of hopes and excitement. She fantasized of running away from home with the man she loved to a secret place where they could fall in love again but she only ended waking up feeling more troubled by the fantasy. It was just a game in her dreams. Haunted by the wonders, she imagined how nice it would be if it was as simple as that - pack her bags and go! 

She was okay for some days and on some other times she was impassable. The devotions and anticipations still exist in her.  She would not want to let him go. She was craving for the day when the young man would at least send her some verses. She was waiting for just a simple ‘Hi’ and that would reduce the suffering. ‘How could he be so cruel?’ and she broke down into deep silent weeps at the corner of her chamber.
She hoped that one day he would realize she did truthfully care for him and that he was going to miss her being there for him. She might have been worthless to him now but one of these days he would look back and wished things could be different. She might have erased his texts but she would never forget what he wrote. They might have stopped talking but she would never forget his voice. Anything they did she would never forget. One day this pain would make sense to him. If he was late, he would only have a memory to hug because she would not be there anymore. Those were all in her thoughts, in her sobs, in her monologue.                   

She spent the whole month in an altered frame of mind. There was no excitement. She was at her sister’s more often than usual because she had lost her appetite and that she thought her sister’s excellent cooking could help her in the food taking during iftar.
Her body and soul were clearly affected physically and emotionally by her state of affairs. She missed him so badly. Her fragile being could no longer withstand the torture and she couldn’t believe that she had drastically lost so much weight. Not a day that she forgot the man. Her love never seemed to recede. She spent her days in seclusion, praying and hoping to nothingness.
🍁🍃🍂🌿🍀🌿🍂🍃🍁🍁🍃🍂🌿🌾🌿🍀🌷🍂🍁🌿🍂🌳🍂🍃🍂

Please Be Saved...

He was on his own in that big city. Practically day to day occupying his hours in the library, devoting time and attention acquiring knowledge. It took my breath away by his willpower to pursue his dreams. Many times he was disqualified and denied for an admission, but that never distracted him not to try again, even if he had to travel the length and breadth as far as world's end. However, the sudden news he delivered troubled me a lot, when he made aware of the abnormality on his chest and that he was psychologically disturbed by it. I felt a jumpy hot breeze as my blood streaming into my arteries and veins, wrapped up by a gush of insecure feelings, which took me a few ticks of seconds to say something in reply.
I had so many doubts to call for, but as always, he was not a character who would award me an instant feedback. Living with a personality like him requires tolerance and patience. I had to sit tight  the entire night to know the whole story. At times I had the perception that there was no warmth in him, and that I often got annoyed and lost my bearings.
Out of curiosity, I googled and made a sift through on the conditions associated with bruising or discoloration and yellow skin. I was very sure that it was only due to the contusion and muscle strain, injured due to physical activity or labor he was involved in recently, and that I hope it was nothing significant or worrying that needs serious attention.
Thank you God for all Your blessings, for the strength You give me each day and for all the people around me who make my life more meaningful. Please protect them for me,  O Allah. Aameen.😔

Voyage To Uncertainty

Most of her afternoons she would sit in her bedroom, long-sufferingly waiting to hear from him. She can’t help thinking about what her life had become when he came part of it. Waiting and wanting him had been the focus of her thought these days, knowing that one day, all that she has envisioned of them together, will finally happen, even if it was just for a moment. She didn’t ever want to lose this feeling. She didn’t ever want to lose him. Yet, still as she continued to lay there and thought about everything he was to her.

Gazing at her red handbag, she gripped it open; taking out a folded photocopied piece of an A4 white sheet she printed a month ago. It was a duplicate of her getaway travel document. She held it in her hands while she stared at the specifics blankly. Stated evidently were all the details of her online booking voyage - a five-day-return-ticket to her preferred journey's end. The time was moving gradually and she was mindful that the day of her leaving was forthcoming, however, she was still vague and doubtful, and this indecision was the most stressful feeling. She was still tangled with the whole lot around her. She was trapped within her waking senses and her involuntary mind, clashing with truth and make-believe. There was no wrong action, just choices and consequences. If she would go, and it turned out to be the wrong thing, she would know for sure. If she did not go, she might always wonder if she should have given it a chance, or she might feel peace and relief of not having the anxiety anymore.

She has been getting herself ready for this clandestine visit all along. She was very convinced of her choice and was looking forward to it, counting the days and weeks which seemed crawling very unhurriedly. This was going to be her very first journey out of the country unaccompanied. She could not comprehend how valiant she was for having this notion of soaring across the earth to see a name she hardly be acquainted with. This was her undisclosed escape and that not a single soul should be alerted of this rendezvous. Should anything befallen her in the land of the aliens, she had nobody except herself to be blamed for. 
It was not this documented and well-arranged travel that distressed her most, it was something else that gave her the fret.   It was the bumping into a soul that has been giving her sleepless nights. It frequently gave her the goose bumps and cold quivers. Her heart stopped five beats whenever she pictured the moment they looked into each other’s eyes. ‘No! I’m not going’ she swayed herself every moment she visualized the discomforting look on the soul’s face the minute he set eyes on her at the arrival hall. She imagined the gaze of numbness of his expression for being embittered and in disappointment. She learned that if  you look carefully at people's eyes, the first five seconds they look at you, the truth of their feelings will shine through and she just couldn’t bear to reflect that situation even in her nightmares. She knew she had nothing to offer him except love and fondness of which had thrown her into that unfamiliar planet. ‘No! It’s final. I’m not flying over there.’  She persuaded herself over and over again,  denying the yearning from within. She didn’t want to be doomed the day he got her. She would rather be living her life hoping and expecting than to lose him utterly.

She was at such a tight spot, stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea and that her soul was held captive. She wanted to distance herself from him, but yet, she didn’t want to lose him. 

The Forgotten Land in The Mountains

The splendour and salubriousness of the Kashmir Valley is legendary. According to poets and historians, Kashmir is more beautiful than the heaven and is the benefactor of supreme bliss and happiness. It is the best place in the Himalayas, a country where the sun shines mildly. The valley is an emarald set of pearls, a land of lakes, clear streams, green meadows, magnificent trees and mighty mountains where the air is cool, and the water sweet, where men are strong, and women vie with the soil in fruitfulness.
I was spellbounded by this spectacular mountain valley views since I was a school girl. Kashmir has become my point of destination and that one perfect chance I would one day wish to set my foot on and stood there in person to watch those natural beauty with my naked eye.

I am aware of her perplexed political history, that this majestic rich heaven is a land of unresolved dispute, occupied and left abandoned for almost seven decades. Kashmir is like a live-volcano, waiting to kaboom its hot fiery lava of discontentment and dissatisfaction, the anger and determination for freedom from the overstayed guests.

The murderous ambush upon their combative, fanatical youth leader has sparked an immediate cause of an enormous deadly uprising in the valley. It was as though a hungry revengeful lion has been awaken from its long slumber. Kashmir is now on torches of angers. She is boiling with rage of overwhelming revenge,  unstoppable and could never be cooled down unless her righteous freedom, self-determination and independence delivered to them by hook or by crook, an eye for an eye, otherwise they will battle themselves to the last drop of blood and sweat. Nothing could ever make them surrender,  it is now or never. 

A Letter To Kashmir

Dear Kashmir,

I have knowledge concerning your survival in my History classes duringou are positioned in the Himalayan mountainous region and is distinguished for your beautiful panoramic vista and terrains that pleases the aesthetic senses, so alluring and eye-appealing which fascinated me till now. You are a wealthy and prosperous nation. They say if you are on your own,  you will be a country bigger than 126 countries on the globe. Why not?  You own the most costliest spice in the world, the saffron. You have your decorative handicrafts, walnuts, mushrooms and apples.  Not forgetting the highest power generation capacity, the tonnes of diversed minerals as well as your best quality sapphire stones.

No wonder your neighbours China, India and Pakistan are envious of you and that they have been mingling with you with a feeling of admiration since the conclusion of the British rule in 1947 which left you as the subject of a territorial conflict.

The black-neck crane, pretty lotus flowers and the monumental Chinar trees are your symbols which I know by sight very clearly. This majestic deciduous tree, the Chinar,  is found in almost your every village. It is a long-living tree and has several properties, a perfect symbol for your longevity and survival.

My dear Kashmir, 

I have been dreaming of you since those college days and I really wish to step my foot on your soil for once in my lifetime,  yet I was distracted by obstacles in life that I had to put aside my interest in you as to give way to more important matters that need my full attention. However, the thought of seeing you never lose the balance of my mind.

Although I am 3,000 miles away,  I know about your long sufferings, your frustrations and aspirations. You want to be freed from the clutches of your master because you are being unfairly treated in your own land.  I know how it feels to be denied and disrespected in your own inheritance.

I feel lucky now that we have all the convenience to get connected with people over the globe through the internet access. The few hombres from your breed, to whom I make friends with on the social media are awesome and brilliant human beings,  beautiful creatures with beautiful minds and that honestly speaking I have fallen in deep love with one of your sons whom I met in April this year. He is my inspiration.  I began to start working back on my passion in writing after I met him.
Kashmir,  I thought I have lost your son after he went back to you last summer break. When Burhan Wani was martyred on 8 July, I was devastated not only by the killing of your commander but also by your son's whereabouts and safety for I came to know that your whole valley was in great mess by the melee. However I felt grateful that your introvert son survived, alive and well and that he is furthering his studies in the capital now,  leaving his family and his hometown with the hope that they are under the protection of Allah The Great.

I am thankful to your kind hearted son for still keeping in touch with me until now, in spite of his busy routine. Hopefully one fine opportunity, we are able to come face to face for real.  Thank you.

From,
Crane, Lotus & Chinar

The Falls In The Land of Uzarseef

Hello Autumn,

Don't be sad we miss our annual rendezvous in your valley during your spell this year. We know you're a faithful lover and not once you ever betray us. You always keep your promise and without fail to make yourself available in every October.

It's not your fault that you are surrounded by the whole shebang and it looks as though no one is not falling victim to your heavenliness bliss.

Believe it! Not for a moment that we are not fascinated by your charms. Yet, the occurrences in your neighborhood keep us at a distance from you. We concluded that the currently ongoing intifada in your earthland is the repercussions of the illegal annexation and the long, pending human atrocities.

Please tell the living souls of your people not to be upset and give up. They have the right to choose their path.  It is their sacred privilege. Brief them to follow their passion, stay true to themselves. We don't want them to tumble down to the ground and get decomposed worthlessly.  We want them to fight and fall in love instead.

Watching your deciduous  trees shed their leaves, reminds us of the falling lives of your comrades in the bloody clashes. They risked their beings to free your ancestral land from the clutches of tyranny and injustice. The fiery red colors of your season resembles their fighting spirit. They fell like falling leaves and they were indeed a beauty in the eyes of the mortals.

Know that this is a war of nerve the intruders are playing. Their attitude is waiting for your people to wear out. The sense of hopelessness might not be a good news for your future, so tell your people never ever get worn out. Stay strong and have faith. Don't give up. Your martyrs' efforts must not be wasted. Bear in your mind that one of these days the victory in the shape of independence will be yours.

My dear Autumn, 

We are aware that the unrest in your land has been going for four months and makes it the longest period in the history. Thousands were injured and killed, and some could no longer watch your grandeur anymore, for as long as they live. Their magnificent eyes are being blinded by the demonic pellet guns. Unrelentless protests continue in almost every part of your valley. The paterfamilias with the heart and mind to bring the quarrelling brood together is missing. They lack the vision and generosity to reach out and embrace your people who feel alien and unwanted. They may call your people brothers, but I know they are actually treating them  like stepchildren. 

Your people demand their rights of self-determination, but in return they are terminated with pellets and bullets. Your grounds is a global friction and that the patriarch should seriously think about it for the sake of humanity. Hear what your people want.
Their land as their soil.

Autumn darling, I love your favourite season,  my cozy friend who returns loyally each and every year. I will always love the Chinar trees until their leaves fall off.  I will encourage them to try again next year and may be I would come running to you, Kashmir. ❤

🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂
🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂🍁🍂

The Best To Have, The Hardest To Keep

The Best  To Have, The Hardest To Keep

I met him early this year in April and we fell into places very easily. He often talks explicitly with no beating about the bush, so plain speaking, and without hesitation. However he's generally very charming and has a way of talking that is comforting. He doesn't really like asking too many things or making demands.  

I never came face to face with him but when I recurrently rattled on with him, I came to learn more about his assence and tone. I'm not blowing my own trumpet,  but sometimes I do able to define people's motives with almost 100% probability, and therefore, remain objective in my assessments. People for me are like an open book, I can easily see anyone through. Many of my friends value my ability to see the eye of the problem a lot, and they say quite often that I could be an excellent psychologist.  Ha!! 😎

However, this exceptional hombre, undoubtedly puts me up into a big confrontation. Quite often he is too silent, an introvert and that he gives me a hard time to pinpoint or explain his attitude. It's like trying to answer a riddle - mysterious and unpredictable. Even so,  I began to understand and unravel him little by little as our friendship blossoms. I came to learn that he's a strong-willed person, independent and very capable. Sometimes he's needy and require a lot of attention. On the contrary, I could feel that he also like spaces and gets annoyed at clinginess. 

As I mingled with him from day to day,  I have the feeling that he likes to protect his vulnerability through humour and a cool exterior, not a biased person and has a very warm and symphatetic heart. He may seem weak and subtle, but you must be very careful with him. If he thinks you're not worth to him, he'll treat you like a complete stranger every time you text him. He can go ice just as fast as he senses it. He can read your thoughts and he is observing your energy and mood.

When he snaps, "Leave it!", it's the end of the issue - change the subject!  Everything you do or say is deeply felt by him. If you hurt his feelings, be prepared to apologize, if not, you are shut out of his world completely. When he stops caring, there will be no second chance. Once he is fade up,  he will not come back. 

He's complicated but he's like a tattoo to me. He has touched my heart and has become a permanent part of me. I can't breathe without him around. That's my life - the best found, the hardest to keep. 

I Want To Die In Love With You

I want to die in love with you

My love to you is a dangerous disease. It is like a deadly cancer, silently destroying every bit of cells of calmness and tranquility, biting every piece of unperturbed mind, and complicating the blood system of anxiety and expectations. The soul screaming in silence, so heart- wrenching to endure that the body collapse into deterioration, damaging the beauty of its perfections.

Every day and moment it was so tensed and painful. Days and weeks are filled with hopes and wonders of heartaches, suffocating and gasping for air in search of every last straw to ease and heal the pain of wanting you.

The pain of love is so unbearable urging for therapy of closeness and comfort that only the strongest drugs of euphoria would help to end the torture. There is no better option of treatment than to be together, to feel each other, to be loved, seduced and ravished - to quench the thirst of lust. No other medication so curable than the embraces, hugs and kisses to ecstacy of love making.

My cancer for you has reached the final stage, the climax.  Our destiny is heading towards the end. The most awaited perfect moment is on its way to end this torment of madness. The moment we meet and stare into each other's eyes, is the moment when our love dies - snatched away by the angels of truth and actuality.

It is when all the mysteries of expectations fall apart. All the puzzles finally come into places and the real picture is brought to light. There's no hope. The cancer is not worth fighting for. And I'm willing to be unplugged by you, for the pain is too long and insufferable. It's suicidal but I'd rather die in honour, in your sadistic embrace in our love nest. I give in to you with the hope of both, to be cured and killed at the same time, as I wanted to die in love with you.

The Forgotten Land of Uzarseef

The splendour and salubriousness of the Kashmir Valley is legendary. According to poets and historians, Kashmir is more beautiful than the heaven and is the benefactor of supreme bliss and happiness. It is the best place in the Himalayas, a country where the sun shines mildly. The valley is an emarald set of pearls, a land of lakes, clear streams, green meadows, magnificent trees and mighty mountains where the air is cool, and the water sweet, where men are strong, and women vie with the soil in fruitfulness.

I was spellbounded by this spectacular mountain valley views since I was a school girl. Kashmir has become my point of destination and that one perfect chance I would one day wish to set my foot on and stood there in person to watch those natural beauty with my naked eye.

It never crosses my mind that out of million other marvellous things in the world,  I would be enchanted not only by her nature, but also by one of the sons of her ancestors whom I met on the line. He is the most magnificent attraction I have ever encountered and that my heart and soul were under his clutches, bewitched and captivated by his perfections which camouflaged perfectly with the awesomeness of his homeland.

I am aware of her perplexed political history, that this majestic rich heaven is a land of unresolved dispute, occupied and left abandoned for almost seven decades. Kashmir is like a live-volcano, waiting to kaboom its hot fiery lava of discontent and dissatisfaction, the anger and determination for freedom from the overstayed guests.

The murderous ambush upon their combative, fanatical youth leader has sparked an immediate cause of an enormous deadly uprising in the valley. It was as though a hungry revengeful lion has been awaken from its long slumber. Kashmir is now on torches of angers. She is boiling with rage of overwhelming revenge,  unstoppable and could never be cooled down unless her righteous freedom, self-determination and independence delivered to them by hook or by crook, an eye for an eye, otherwise they will battle themselves to the last drop of blood and sweat. Nothing could ever make them surrender,  it is now or never. 

My Love Is A War

Life is funny. Just when you think you've got it all figured out, just when you finally begin to plan something, get excited about it and feel like you know what direction you're heading in, the path change, the signs change, the wind blows the other way, north is suddenly south, and east is west and you're lost. The truth is you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. Life is a scary ride, and nothing is guaranteed.

Never had I passed my days without counting the seconds, minutes and hours to finally grab my bags, leave a note, and go!  I just can't wait to go somewhere secret where we can fall in love and set our soul on fire - for real, flesh, blood and bones. No more imaginings. No more daydreamings. Nothing but the truth.

However, my overwhelming urge to run away is shattered by a war at the border, a bloody symptom of man's failure as a thinking animal, a failure of democracy, a cowardly escape from the problem of peace and the trade of kings. The war breaks and hinders your every beautiful things, every hopes, love and dreams on the flight to happiness. 

My love for you is just like the war, it always finds a way. It all began when I failed to bring my heart and my mind into a diplomatic, peace talk. My soul declares war on the heart just after a launch of surgical strike on the mind. The oppression was so great that the soul chooses to love, an escape from the problem of confusion, the last option of democracy. I was defeated and surrendered myself in the conflict. I  am a soldier who was conquered and fell hard for you, held captive and brutally tortured emotionally, in a matter of moments, the minute I saw your name without knowing the real you. My whole being was haunted and occupied by your ghost. 

Once the love takes over the battle field,  it's difficult to end and impossible to forget. It has been recorded, written and could not be erased in the book of life history. Both the war and love need sacrifices and hurts and all the thousand shocks of life. They are the gloriest dreams of determination, an attractive rainbow that rises in showers of tears and the worst of nightmares when you lose. But it also means beauty of independence - true beauty. No matter how painful it is, my war with you is one of the prettiest things that crosses my life border, my Line of Control.❤
#windsofchange#
#prayforkashmir#

Thank You For Crossing My Path

I got attached to him a couple of months ago.  He was the first person from across the ocean that I added to my friends list when I spotted his comment on a news page.  A studious, brilliant graduate with heart-melting looks. He holds a Master in Economics and is pursuing his PhD very soon. He is much younger than me but on the contrary,  I learned more new things around the world through his views and opinions which some of them differ from my perspectives. Looks like what they usually say : the old believe everything, the middle-aged suspect everything, and the young know everything. Yes, he's resourceful, knowledgeable and internet savvy.

I came to  realize that it is worth being friends with people who are not our age. Hang out with people whose first language isn't the same as ours. Get to know someone who doesn't come from our social class.  This is how we see the world. This is how we grow really. 

He has great impact on my life.  I began to fall hard on him. I don't remember when and how I end up there, but eventually when we got along from time to time, I found feelings in places I didn't even know I still had that feelings, and when things didn't work out between us like he failed to keep in touch with me or when he was unreachable, my bones will ache, even months later when I saw his status or when I came across a name similar to his. I don't know where I stand with him. And I don't know what I mean to him. All I know is that every time I think of him, all I wanna do is be with him.   I wanna take care and support him and if time is not too envious, if it is not too late, I'd like to see his dreams come true and watch him walk the world from the distance.

I'm thankful our paths crossed and that he comes into my life. I know he may not stay forever and that he had to leave for some reasons, somehow he has made me happy even if it is just for a short while.
It's comforting to know the one you love is always in your heart and if you're lucky, a plane ride away. It does not matter how much we spent our time with in this world, but it matters a great deal whom we dream of.

Trust the wait
Embrace the uncertainty
Enjoy the beauty of becoming
When nothing is certain 
Anything is possible 

I wish you knew......❤

There was this boy, a boy like no other, who I observed whenever I had the chance. This boy was handsome and had this honest kind look, the sweetest smile and the most beautiful eyes. Although I observed him, I never felt observed by him, like really, how could someone like him could ever lay eyes on me?  I'm not as young as him and he was perfect. If only you knew, that guy was you.
I met him when I was scrolling a page on Facebook. I added him in my list and we got clicked very easily. When we first started talking, I literally couldn't sleep because of all the butterflies, the boy who had been my crush, finally spoke to me. I was taken by surprise when he called me on the phone. That was the first time I got to hear his voice. You, out of people,  I suddenly became super attached to you and I didn't want us to stop talking, but that was the last I heard your voice. We only chatted on WhatsApp but not as often. Yes, although you probably won't believe it, I still remember that day when you told me I was beautiful, at first it was hard to believe, but somehow, you made me feel that those words were the most honest anyone had ever told me. I had fallen hard for you. I couldn't take you out of my mind. I waited for your name to appear on my screen and whenever the cell beeped, I hoped it was a text from you. I was disappointed of course for it was not always from you. I could be very angry about the matter, but then again I'm talking about someone who I just can't stay mad at. We are not bound to any kind of commitment. We were just friends from the distance.
Days and weeks passed and we stopped talking to each other, our lives involved us in other important matters and we just stopped talking to each other, though I always wanted to start another beautiful conversation, but my fear was always that may be I was annoying you, so I didn't, and all that was left was me missing you. Would you be missing me too?  We got distanced when you shut off yourself from me the day you went back to your homeland for the summer break. I was prepared for the worst and that I had the feelings, that this could be the end of our connection. You were silent for the whole month, and I took it as an answer that you didn't want me to have anything to do with your life.  I was at the brink of losing my insanity for missing you, but what could I do?  I fought my own battle silently and forced myself to accept the fact that you weren't meant to be in my life. It hurt me whenever I saw your name on your status and that was the only source I had news about you. I dared not touch you, for I realized that if I wanted to heal my wounds, I had to stop touching it. 
And then something dreadful happened in your country. An outbreak exploded when your militant commander was killed in an ambush. Thousands flocked together to give respect to the deceased and there was an unrest in the valley.  Suddenly I was so worried about your safety which I shouldn't give a heed. Why should I?  You wouldn't care less for me and why should I for you?  However, my heart wouldn't abide to my logical mind. I couldn't be at ease until I knew that you were safe and sound.  It took me all the courage and guts to give you a call. It was so relief to hear your voice after such a long time.  I was lost of words. It was a short, brief talk and that was just enough to calm me down. Not long after that I got your message.  You were no longer in your homeland. I felt much happier for you and that you were then at a comfort zone, away from the riots. I thought I was over you after the long silence. You appeared out of nowhere and with your ability of always saying the right thing, you made me fall for you all over again. May I ask why?  I knew you could have left me as you did anytime now, but I thought that it's not your fault, maybe distance is what affected us.  When I talk to you now, I still get the same butterflies I got from the first time you talked to me, not one point less. What will happen next? I wish I knew....

Once Upon A Time....

Once upon a time, there was an untold story of a Queen from the East who got lured and trapped by a General from the North in a continent of the cold mountains. This young, brilliant warrior, like any other men in his land, had an insatiable desire, a voracious thirst for women and girls. He treated them like a box of chocolate,  enjoying different kinds one after another. Until the next box of chocolate comes around he didn't know what to choose from because he thought they were all the same.  Until one day, the General came across a female who for no real reason appeared in his list  and they became friends in a flash of lightning,  quick and easy.
The General started his first cunning attacks by manipulating his victim with his good choices of pretty words, or praises and admiration which in no time melted the Queen's vulnerable innocent heart. Being all alone in her solitude and silence world in her cocoon for too long, the abusive warrior gained the trust of his prey as easy as falling off the log. The sweet thawed whispers and the soft romantic persuasive pleads have awaken the Queen from her years of hibernation, her slumber. She was carried away and blinded by the kinds of feelings people write novels about. She surrended and sold her whole self, body and soul to the devil. The General, was a male gladiator with unquenchable feelings of lust, true to his blood race, savored and ravished every inch of her sweetness, trespassing and ogling her secret treasures until he got sick of her.
Not knowing that she would be abandoned so soon, thrown to rot in debris of unspeakable pain of heartache, the Queen clandestinely fell in deep devotion of love n affection for the General. The wall of defence to her untouched kingdom collapsed into pieces. The General had again won the battle without much effort of struggle, negotiation or signing treaties. Having shamely defeated the Queen, he began his next typical stir as men of his kind did - slowly making himself unavailable, distancing gradually, leaving the Queen waiting,hoping and expecting with anxiety and desperation - yearning for his cruel, sadistic embrace every minute of the hours and days.
Wordlessly like a ghost, he galloped off and vanished into the valleys, back into his homeland without saying goodbye or a mere explaination, dumping the helpless Queen on the crossroads of forlorn and dejection, torn and shredded into pieces, in disappointment and shame.
Swallowing all the sobs and tears, that breathlessly suffocating her, and after months of heart wrenching agonies, she finally came into every waking senses that the General was not a Prince Charming after all, far from being a Knight with shunning armour. He was indeed a cruel living thing with a rotten senseless heart,  a werewolf in a sheep's clothing and he was a beast at what he did. The Queen was injured and in great devastation,  licking her deep cut wounds and mistakes, in the deep silent nights of sorrow all alone. She cried so hard that she thought she could fill the Indian Ocean all the water her body was losing. She should not have likened her love to a stranger. The grotesque gladiator was no match for someone as sweet natured as her. Being kindness herself and true to her love,  she held no revenge or anger to the young man. She had survived from what she thought would kill her which made her more grateful and that everything happens for a reason. Seasons change, so do people.
Despite everything, she couldn't stop herself from loving the General. Even at a distance, a simple glance was just enough to quake her heart and awaken her more love. She loved him from that distance, softly and slowly. Day by day she had learned to strengthen her crown and moved forward like a real Queen.  She's all alone again naturally and she would live happily ever after. ❤