Oh the sweet dilemma!

Oh these winter nights, they do wonderful things to you

Oh this magic in the air, it takes thee to a whole new world

And these winds, they whisper so many tales in your ears as they pass

Of union, betrayal, joy, despair, longing…

Of pairs of feet walking these streets, silently, hand in hand. Surrendering.

Oh this pitch blackness of the night, revealing and concealing

The smell from the coffee and the ashes from the cigarettes!

And then the story between you and me, folding and unfolding

The spark, the conversations, the ignited light…

A sudden joy has filled my soul, a sudden excitement has replaced the fear. Is it the wind or the blues or the whole concept of knowing you?

 

A Reminder!

“I will always be a constant reminder for you, reminding you of the smell of the coffee, the winter breeze, the mid-summer sun, the dark sky, the smell of the books, the smoke from the cigarette, the vintage feel, the broken cities, the intriguing conversations, the sound of the laughter, the unspoken words, the joy deep down in your heart, the smile playing at the edge of your lips, the twist in the story, the waves in the sea, the fear in your heart, the void in your life, the start and the beginning of the end.”

He ran after her for hours to stop her but she was long gone and out of his reach as always.

“You’d be dead before you’d be able to decide what hit you.” He said with an evil grin on his face.

“If dying was that easy and convenient, you’d have taken a million lives and I’d be an immortal.” And I let the sadist inside me feed on the shock and pain in his eyes.

So much for ‘Love’ ?

“Honey can you write down your Facebook name on a paper for me?” My mom asked while watching the ridiculously lame soap, which is apparently the new Desperate Housewives for all Pakistani women these days.

“Why? So you can give it to some woman dying to hook me up with some rich, good looking guy, just so he can drool over my Cover Photos and assume I am too modern (read awesome) for them?!” I said, completely annoyed.

My mom’s jaw dropped down, my sister gasped and my grandmother uttered something unintelligible under her breath and all  three of them stared at me not able to comprehend what they just heard. I stared back at them probably with much more piercing intensity than they were capable of bearing. The minutes passed and the silence got awkward. I picked up the pen, wrote my name on the bright yellow sticky note, stuck it on the refrigerator and almost ran back to my room, unable to contain the anger building inside me.

Why do people relate love with relations and weddings? Why will they go to such lengths and hurt their beloveds just to find love? Doesn’t love free you from the hatred or the hurt? Aren’t you supposed to find love or let it find you on its own rather than having others try to take you to it or bring it at your doorstep? They have made love look overrated by relating it with romance and matrimony. It has become essential to wear an expensive diamond ring on your finger, spend a million bucks on the celebrations and sign legal documents just to assure others that you love someone and that they reciprocate your feelings. I can’t help wondering why? The concept of love goes beyond these worldly matters and ceremonies. Love is not finding someone perfect to spend your life with. It is to live with and love all the imperfections around you. Isn’t it?

I was only juggling with my thoughts and questions when my mom entered my room with expressions I couldn’t read. Or maybe the expressions I didn’t want to read.

“You know we only think about what is good for you and care about your best interest.” She said.

“Mom, I know and I love you for that but you need to understand that Happiness is not equal to Husband.”

“Listen young lady, you can’t always have things your way. Also, you need to fix your Facebook profile. The rules made by society must be followed in order to maintain good image and peace.”

“Isn’t society just a reflection of who we are? Its our good and our bad, mom? And which society are you talking about anyway? The one where you promised the mother inside you to love and protect me or the one where you pledged to present us as a picture perfect family or the society you resent so much because its full of hypocrites, liars, backbiters and bastards?”

She opened her mouth to say something but then didn’t. I saw her surrender there. Not in front of a misbehaving, spoiled daughter but in front of a woman trying to keep herself from being caged and defined by the society. She was left speechless yet once again and she knew why. She kissed my forehead and left the room without uttering another word. I saw understanding, envy, pain and love in her eyes. When she left, she left me with a million more questions and thoughts in my mind.

I sighed with a heavy heart and resumed reading Forty Rules Of  Love only to stumble upon these words;

“The quest for Love changes us. There is no seeker among those who search for Love who has not matured on the way. The moment you start looking for Love, you start to change within and without.”

I silently complained in my prayer and asked God to make people understand and make them let love be before drifting to a dreamless sleep.