کیا عجب ہوتا گر اپنی قسمت پہ ناز کرتےکیا عجب ہوتا گر اپنی قسمت پہ ناز کرتےنا کہ صُبح شام سوز و گداز کرتے ہنس کھیل کر عمر دراز کرتےنا کہ پشیمانی سے اعتراض کرتے اُنکے سب ستم بر سر نیاز کرتےنا کہ رقیب کو اہل راز کرتے دل کی کرچیوں کو اِحتِیاز کرتےنا کہ آنسوؤں سے روح پاکباز کرتے اس کہانی کو قصہ در باز کرتےنا کہ اس طرح التفاظ کرتے کیا عجب ہوتا گر اپنی قسمت پہ ناز کرتےنا کہ صُبح شام سوز و گداز کرتے
Chapter 1 Wandering around the woods, sliding her fingers over the wet moss as she tracked the movements of a squirrel through the rustling leaves, seeing the beautiful birds chirping, and trees as green as they could be, “Ahhh! It was a fine spring morning.” She murmured. There was a breath of spring in the air, but the primroses were out, and the lake was calm as though the air had been holding its breath just waiting till she came on board. In some distance came the creak of a gate to interrupt the silence. Touching the fresh flowers and gazing at the clean water in the lake, she noticed that one blossom had already floated away on the water, a fragment of beauty turned to ash in its prime. Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice moving towards her. She had her eyes closed, and he appeared, having his hands on her eyes. “Oh, babe! Did you wake up? I wish you had a peaceful sleep last night.” She said, removing his hands from her eyes and holding them in hers. He smiled, kissed her, and started walking by her side. “How can I not sleep well when I’ve got such a pretty girl as my wife who loves me enough that she does everything I need?” He asked her. She had a soothing and gorgeous smile on her face that illuminated her face like the shining sun. Her dark eyes used to sparkle when he held her hand and appreciated her. Dark red-brown eyes, little perfect thin lips, round face and long neck, fair complexion, and hazel brown hair, indeed a perfect beauty that could have enchanted Hummain. “You know I can’t sleep without you, without having seen your face, my day feels incomplete, and I’m thankful to Allah that I got my love as my husband”, Aniyah replied. He laughed, and they walked towards home, holding hands. Hummain was a perfect boy but a flawed one; he had drowsy eyes which could make anyone fall for him, luscious lips, a long neck, perfect height, and a healthy physique. Indeed, he was the beauty who could charm anyone with his handsome features. Hummain smiled that ill-humored way of his, but it took him a long time to rub his eyes open. The sunlit morning fell on her hair–hazel-brown, like the autumn wheat, and a look seemed to come into his eyes, as though he might be losing someone or something. After reaching home, she prepared breakfast and served him. “How long are we gonna live alone? Even without your parents, why don’t we invite them here to live with us? “ She questioned. “We will call ’em soon, honey! Don’t you get worried?” He said. “But you know I’m afraid to live alone,” She replied. Seeing her in despair, he said: “Don’t you dare to think that you’re alone! Don’t you dare to think that you’re alone. Keep thinking about me, Lauv! I’ll be back soon.” He said goodbye and went towards his car, kissing her head before departing. There was more to the quiet of the lake than drifting clouds behind, one at a time, dark and slowly deliberate, as though it foreknew that the fondling glee of the season would not long continue. The wind was sharp as a breath, but it was warm all morning, and it died once more, and the woods were very still. Once a thrush in the hedge called, but stopped in its song, as though it had caught sight of something invisible. In the distance, a gate creaked, closed without a hand on it. Aniyah shivered, and she could name no reason, though it was still sunny. A petal had fallen off the primrose she had touched that morning, and they strewed a path to the ground without a sound. She saw it, and with a certain sense of troubled astonishment, she gripped her hand tighter in Hummain. Chapter Two And when he left, Aniyah fell into her world of reverie, into which memories and imaginings went down like threads of a dream. She remembered how beautiful the union was that had discovered no definite outset. Never could I have dreamed that I would ever marry you! Who would have thought you would go in cities- bid farewell to what was known–all that was dear- just to me? Who believed that you’d come far away, to a distant city, just for me?? Just for my love and care?? Oh!! I can’t imagine my life without you, dear husband. I miss the beauty of our meeting — the first blush of the rose that bloomed without wind or shade, before life took its ashes and scattered them. Love at first sight??? She thought of the first encounter of their eyes, not in the thunderclap of that conception which no poet ever admitted to be the love of the first sight, but with a quiet sense of recognition that begins, and knows not that it begins, to nurture itself into assiduity. Then, so very ordinary to her face, by slow degrees it had become a face that she liked best of all others. She recalled how once he had questioned her name, with a note of such interest in his voice she almost thought it was an imperative, and how, though she was always cautious, she had shown her face to him, without thinking who he might be or out of what place he had come. But, she said to herself, it was not a love in the ordinary sense; love, if only afterward understood, in its completeness, is so easily lost by the fulfilment of itself. Instead, it was the silent worship of a soul who had found her own, even in the months when he had nothing to say to her, and when he was away. But at that time, there was treatment at hand–nights of sleeplessness, doubts she dared not voice: Does he love me? Will he ever visit me?
