— H O O R —. . .Zahir patiently listens to Siya as she stands beside him in the circle. My attention is solely on Zahir and Siya. She speaks confidently, eyes lingering upon Zahir alone. I am not aware of what is there in those eyes of hers and I am not even to think about it because soon, Zahir calls me to him. I walk to them, entering the circle. Zahir offers his hand to me, thus, calling me to stand beside him and Siya automatically has to step aside. I do not get enough time to see Siya's reaction as I am mingled with an official conversation. The young man pleasantly smiles at me. Though I am well aware of his name and what business he does, I prefer to refer to him as. Zahir and he starts walking out of the room and I am to follow Zahir. Soon an old woman also joins us, trailing behind the guest. She is his personal assistant, as I have noticed already. We share no word, nor do I find it necessary to get acquainted with her. Their conversation seems to stretch and comes
— H O O R —. . .“One should never forget God's favors. Whatever He has done,” I begin with a simple sentence, holding a deep meaning, a worthy moral to accept in one's life if one wants to live happily.Zahir sighs as I start weaving my words into the real story that I have heard and read about. Close to my very heart, I have cherished it dearly, taking all the words in my life so I could walk upon it. It taught me very deep and amazing things that I want the world to know. “The nation God brought out of Egypt began to forget about their only God. Their ancestors disobeyed the Lord, going against the very first commandment that He gave to them through prophet Moses; Love the Lord your God with all your mind, with all your soul, with all your heart and with all your strength.”The sun is beginning to sink into the horizon, melting right there. The shades of saffron are fused into the whole sky, and stars begin to twinkle through the spread sheet. I behold the view behind Zahir throug
Recap:- He smiles, “And?”“But Hoshea chose to obey his God, knowing that God isn't unjust.”“He is just.”“Indeed. Hoshea would have begged God in the beginning to let him walk away freely from the relationship but truly Hoshea needed to feel the way God felt or else, I; this generation would never have realized the intensity of pain he had to go through.”. . .— H O O R —. . .“...or else, I; this generation would never have realized the intensity of pain He had to go through.” “Right.”“But soon Hoshea learns that he can't walk away from this relationship because the woman is given to him till death do them part. According to the Word, they are not two anymore. They are one. They belong to each other. He'd have remained unmarried easily after divorcing the woman because he had God but God knew that the world would start harassing the woman after Hoshea divorces her. And most importantly, God not only wanted Hoshea to feel like God in this case but also to love like God in this c
— H O O R —. . .I wonder what was going through Zahir's mind when he was listening to me. I want to know though. The desire to know his opinions and feelings being the curtains of his sky-open eyes has awakened in my mind. It was quick, all in a moment but I couldn't help it. “Zahir?” I am not sure if he is still listening to me or has fallen asleep. The moment seems peaceful to him. I see his bright blue summer sky eyes veiled behind the curtains of flesh. He faces me and breathes peacefully. “Hmm?” His response is lazy, coming after a few seconds of my questioning call. Voice deep and husky as he just hums, sending a shiver down my spine. I worry my bottom lip. His impact on me is deep, I cannot hide this from myself. We are just getting closer as time passes. Despite knowing that we are destined to be separated or who knows what will happen next. Indeed, despite this, perhaps there is no fear in our hearts. Perhaps this is why they are ‘hearts’. “I wanted to know...” I begi
— H O O R —. . .Work is necessary and indeed very difficult to handle sometimes. Although I have always been passionate about my work, I do not deny that work also brings stress and fatigue. Especially when I have to tire my eyes and fingers just by sitting in front of a screen. But it is over.I sigh, turning my chair to the wall of my cabin. I raise my arms as I stretch them tight, releasing a yawn from my parted lips before I give up with a deep exhale. Finally, it is over! I put my hands on my eyes as I close them, darkness falling before them like the large curtains of a temple from high. A sigh has escaped from my lips as the warmth of my palms has kissed my weary eyelids. It is another definition of relief, trust me. From the spotless glass walls of my room, I behold the way of the sun melting behind the tall buildings, letting the moon peek from the other side. Stars have started twinkling upon the bright shades of saffron mingled with the pigeon hues of night. Gray shad
— H O O R —. . .“I hope it goes well,” I mumble, standing beside Zahir, watching my family members leave. Under the sky that is veiled with darkness and diamonds that keep kissing it, I watch our family members leave us for an urgent matter that calls their presence. They wave at us one more time, smiling softly. However, Zahir is still with me. It is only a family function they need to attend, yet very important from their perspective. They invited Zahir and me, too and we reasoned that we would be there on the very day of the celebration, because we were invited fifteen days before the grand celebration of the union in another town by my father-in-law's brother's family. Dad told us that it was his brother's, youngest daughter's marriage. I was excited to go with them but Zahir, as grumpy as he is, refused to go with them. He said, ‘Dad, I have work.’ Like we do not know, ha?Then Dad said, ‘Am I unaware of this?’Then Zahir said in a monotonous tone, ‘Of course, you are not,
— H O O R —. . . “Tum dono ek dusre ko kaise jante ho?” I ask him, kneading the dough, putting all my attention there. (How do you two know each other?)Behind me, I hear the sound of doors opening and closing. Not sure what he is doing but definitely, I am not letting him help me, or else he will hurt himself once again. The billionaire boy looks good at handling money and commerce. He also looks good at cooking, by the way, but I want no risk. “Hum dono?” He steps closer, “Dost hai, yar. Kafi salo se ek dusre ko jante hai.” (We two? We are friends. Have known each other for many years.)I hum, continuing my work. He comes to be beside me, soon asking the most expected question, “Kuch madad karu?”(Need some help?)I cock a brow at him as I watch him gulping down water. “Rehne do, nazuk kali.”(No need, delicate bud.)He groans, keeping down the bottle as he gives me an annoyed look. After all, I gave him a very pretty nickname to tease him. I can't help but chuckle, going back
— H O O R —. . .Amid the silence, only the sound of the graphite in my grip rubbing against the plain sheet can be heard. My forehead hurts when by constantly frown at the screen. I keep massaging my forehead from time to time but the very next moment, I forget to keep myself neutral and end up frowning tightly at the sheet. Finally done, I groan and let go of the pencil. Paperwork is cruel. I grab my water bottle and take a sip when someone knocks at the door of my cabin. “Come in,” I say, taking another sip. The corner of my eye watches the door opening and not to my expectancy, Mr Hunt steps inside. “Mr Hunt?” I quickly get up, keeping the bottle down on the table. “Hey, don't bother yourself,” he says, smiling at me as he nears the table. I nearly roll my eyes. Well, nearly. I can't be disrespectful towards him for no reason. But he said I am pregnant. I try not to laugh at my own silly joke. “Good afternoon,” I say quietly, smiling at him. “Good afternoon.” He nods his