Today is my friend’s birthday, but…

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Today is my friend’s 18th birthday.

I did attend her surprise birthday party and gave her a nice gift, wished her on time and put on an obligatory birthday wish status and display picture with her to tell her how much she means to me. But as I was typing a long birthday wish for her, I had a flashback of the moments we have spent together in college and the only thing that came in my mind was a bitter comment made by her about me in front of everyone, including me. The memory of that day and that moment was still alive, hemmed in some corner of my brain, now dancing shamelessly like a harlot in front of my eyes, reminding me of the day my soul was torn apart from my body.

It wasn’t a bad comment on my character, it was on my personality. The reason it pierced my heart so much was because I have heard that comment before, from someone else, someone who claimed to be my best friend. And even though we are still in contact whenever I think about her the first thing that comes in my mind is the same comment. And I’d be lying if I say that it doesn’t hurt me. Because it does. It certainly does. And we all know that physical wounds can be healed but emotional wounds cannot. The pain of that comment will always stay in my heart and even if that (the birthday girl) was incredibly sweet and helpful to me in past, even though she apologized a lot for that comment later on and even though I have forgiven her, the first memory that comes of her in my mind will always be that same comment.

Please, never think for a moment that your words don’t have any effect on others.  Bitter words hurt more than the peeling of skin from our body with the help of a knife, more than the pain of a completely broken nail from our skin. And even if you think someone is not as good as you please keep it to yourself and don’t say that on their face. Because there is a 99% chance he already knows that, and secretly he is just trying to change that. Think from your heart before you speak, keep yourself in his place and think how would you feel if you were him and someone said the same to you? You would never forgive him/her. It takes a trillion compliments to build someone’s personality and your one harsh comment can take it all down, or worse, just kill him from inside.

Spread peace, love and kindness!

Love,

Fiya.

Together forever ♡

On one of those lovely winter nights, she sat writing her past on her journal. She wrote and wrote and wrote, carving the never ending memories on a thin piece of paper. As lonely as she was, she knew her only solace is this journal. As she wrote about her one and only love, she felt a lump in her throat and felt hot tears on her ninty years old, cold bare skin, streaming down her hazelnut eyes. She felt the tissues of her skin blazing, her veins scorching and blistering,her body roasting. She couldnt bring herself to write about her sweet lost love. Her love life was dark and gloomy as that silent winter night.

As she sat there mourning for her long lost love, she felt a flurry of air caressing her cheeks and stroking her hair. She instantly felt better, and with that breath of wind she knew he was there with her… watching her, protecting her, loving her. She knew she wasn’t alone. She knew she was loved. She wiped her tears and closed the journal, ending her memoir in a sweet serendipity and signing her journal for the 100th time,

“Jennifer ♡ David,  together forever!”

The ‘newlyweds’- [An Indian subcontinent love story]

 traditional_punjabi_couple_by_azad126-d4av5qe 

They were meeting after thirty years.  For them, the sun was rising again after a long winter. Thirty years! Their love was strong enough to bear these thirty years in isolation. He came running from above the hill; she was waiting downside the hill. Heels cracked, skin wrinkled, body scarred, but love still as pure as the holy water. On the partition of the subcontinent in 1947, he was left behind in India and taken as one of the prisoners by Indian army, just like many of Indians were taken as  prisoners by Pakistan. The war had separated them, right after their wedding, exactly on their wedding day! 

They were told that their village would be safely merged with Pakistan, but it didn’t. Millionaires were turned into paupers, their factories and houses were burnt down, leaving them completely empty handed and penniless. 

 He was running to the downside of the hill, stopping various times to catch a breath, and to make sure his old knees get some rest. As he reached the place where she was standing, he saw her. Dressed in purple and pink gown, wearing a red stole over her head and brown Peshawari Sandals, though her skin  had been wrinkled and blemished but her eyes told him that she was innocent, her heart was as young as a sixteen year old. Fixing her red stole again and again and looking here and there for him, she finally caught a glimpse of him. Smiling brightly at him, she had a flashback of him as a young boy, flashback of that horrible day when most of her family members had been slaughtered mercilessly in front of everyone in the name of religion.

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How much she missed his smile, his presence, his personality, his lovely voice. They both came closer to each other, laughing and crying at the same time. They couldn’t recognize each other properly. She touched his cheek, his skin felt so rough and patchy, showing her the cruelty he had to face in all these years. She almost thought it’s a wall scraper instead of his skin.

30 years! He thought to himself. 30 years of immense trauma and torment. The pain of knowing your beloveds were killed mercilessly without a cause and the torture of not having someone close to share this sharp, incurable pain with. They had been married, and right after Chanda’s brothers held up her doli, they came. ‘The unknowns’ as everyone called them. Killing their families just for a little piece of land, in the most inhuman way, and taking Jugnu with them as a prisoner. Jugnu remembered the shrieks and cries of his family when he was  being torn away from his own family after a cruel beating.

30 years.

He held her hands and took her in his arms. Chanda made him vow to his life that he won’t go anywhere without her, ever again. They cried the tears of joy and walked together to the village, hands in hands, smiling broadly.

It was the end of their hardship and the start of their life as newlywed couple.

And not to forget,

It was their ‘happily ever after’