Note: The author gained international acclaim for this piece.
The muffled noise and the rustling of the leaves was what brought her back to the trance of darkness overshadowing her existence as she sat in the midst of the red brick building feeling that starless sky shower cold water all over her. It had been so long, she wondered as her lips quivered at the thought of the helplessness of her soul; his words came back to her causing tears to stream down those big blue eyes, the same big blue eyes that had lost their spark.
“We’re a good partnership, you and I.” He had mumbled softly a night before that incident; “I just hope life is never the one to break us apart for I want us to stay and stay together forever.”
That night his voice had had a solemn quality to itself unlike its usual playfulness and susceptible approach towards things. His eyes held a grave look that moved Falak more than she had ever been. She still remembered the day she had decided to marry this man, the man who brought her world to life just through his meaningful smiles; the day when her dad had looked at her with utter concern for the very first time in life just to say,
“Falak, marrying a journalist in today’s Pakistan is a decision that could make or break your life.”
and then his voice broke off as the lump in his throat made tears flow down his eyes, after seeing the determination and love mirrored through her glance as he pulled her into a tight hug. Today, after so long in life, she even missed her old man’s embraces as that night’s horrible happenings played their way in front of her swollen eyes like a film all her happiness and sorrows in itself. From those dull thuds to those 2 am gunshots, she still remembered everything from those shattering glass sounds to those painful tears more than anybody could ever imagine. That flash of blood. Those screams. That heartfelt plea. Those piercing thoughts. It was all stored up there to haunt her forever and ever to come.
Sometimes she wondered whether speaking the truth in a third world country had the potential to cost somebody their life and a joyful household their happiness, whether the idea of protecting some poor souls from being raped at the hands of the political policies had the power to rape somebody of the pleasures of living his days and nights in peace and harmony with his family. The whole idea of it disgusted her internally, made her want to puke at the policies, at the false self esteem and the ironic egos of those faces claiming to be the saviors of humanity. It was these very saviors that had pushed journalists like Asher to the grave owing to their controversial stances.
After five months, flooded by tears, for the first time she opened up his personal journal. As she randomly sifted through the pages to land on one of them, his words came back to her once again;
“You know why I write this?” He had said one day when she had complained, “So that whenever I vanish, you can get back to this to find me standing there, your Asher explaining his life and perceptions to you his way.”
Just the thought of it made tears fall down her eyes as her glance fell on the page her fingers had stopped on.
“16th April: Today marks two years to the day my life found its true colors, my existence found its reason and my soul found its mate. Yes, today is the day I got married to Falak. I can’t even tell how quickly time has passed, seconds changed to minutes and minutes changed to hours and weeks and years with her along my side. I can’t thank God enough for I have lived my good and bad with her; it is like she is my partner in crime and peace alike and for that I really love her. To make this day uniquely special for her, I brought her bed breakfast today with half burnt bread but that is a different story.”
A smile crossed her face as she continued to read.
“Despite all that, her smile was such that it could make me get out of bed everyday just to learn how to make proper ones. She was just laughing all along and there was something about her in that moment that made every part inside me tell me as to how much I love her. Also today I got promoted to the investigation department’s head post bringing the huge and much controversial scandal of selling human body parts under me. Journalism in Pakistan holds a very distinct quality to itself. When on one side, the public has been made used to vibrant uncensored media, on the other, every truth costs a journalist something more than his job at times. Apparently as per my initial sources, some political figure is involved sincerely making me hope that I just get out of this without a stain on my collar. I still haven’t told Falak about it. You know she gets worried and that is the last thing I would want at this point in time and especially on this day.”
Her eyes went blur as her hands trembled and the diary fell. It was after four weeks of his research and investigation and a day before he was ready to publish those painful life taking truths that he had told Falak with such distress that it had moved a chord inside her but then again, it happened. All his fears reflected from that look took the image of reality the day he was robbed of his breath for no matter how much the holders of the stances such as liberty, human rights and freedom of expression tried, Pakistan is still a home to an array of violent militant and politically affiliated groups breaking so many pens to silent yet so many Ashers out there, becoming the reason for so many men dying to the strong responsibility they hold to this homeland. Tears kept flowing as she realized no matter how broken she was, she was still proud since even after physically separating them, their partnership and their love stayed eternal. She was not only a proud lover but also a proud Pakistani because even today there are men giving away their lives for a nation that is home to more good than evil, there are still men standing speaking through forums against evil in this hopeless environment for kites fly against and not with the wind.
