March 21, 2015


She met him as he landed in a city far away from home, a city of concrete jungle and sandstorms. Surprised, shocked and stumbling in his steps, he saw her, the girl with fizzy hair greeting him welcome to a land of no familiarity. Her eyes reminded him of the warmth of his beloved home, her smile reminded him of the innocence of his adolescence and her name was what caught his attention the most, ‘a blazing sun’. The warmth of her touch couldn’t be better explained than with the reference of her name; she shone through all the surrounding bright lights as if Lord himself had bestowed upon her the glorious lights of heaven.
The sun hid itself behind clouds as she stepped into daylight. Sitting besides the refreshing waters of the historic creek, which has seen many civilizations prosper and then perish, a storm gathered and her hair waved up and down in the wind as if mocking the temporariness of life itself. The wind was that of the centuries gone by, taking with it her fragrance to the beautiful shores of Constantinople. The Mystics, the Sufis, the Dervish all rejoiced as his heart was enchanted with the magic in the air.

The depth in those brown eyes told a story of tough childhood and the innocence of those words spoke of an unrealized adulthood. She was insecure and yet she was strong as a rock. She was naive and yet she was self-assured. She was pampered and yet she lived a tragedy. She was sensible and yet she was insane. She was a loser and yet she was a winner. She was a fighter, with scars to show for it, and yet she was the most beautiful girl on earth.

She was the divine companion to his eternal solitude. Mesmerized by sweet warmth of this blazing sun, even sour Turkish poison tasted like nectar when taken from her hands.  She told him about her confidantes, her family, her values, her duties, her past, her present, her dreams…She told him about her life. He listened to her intently, analyzing each and every word, remembering each and every sentence as if a revelation by God himself. He was no Prophet and yet the purest part of his soul had awoken. He forgot about his dreams, his ambitions, his life and even his death. The Mystics, the Sufis, the Dervish all rejoiced as his heart was enchanted with the magic in the air.

It was now when his tightly locked heart ripped open from his chest and out came a river of suppressed emotions, which he had been hiding for his entire life. His stone-hearted walls had fallen, gushing like the water of Nile, wiping with them ‘her’ unwept tears. He was no longer in control of his will; he had become a puppet to the emotion of belonging, the purest emotion of love. He was eternally entranced, encaged and bonded to her. He could not undo his feelings, he could not understand why he laughed and cried at the same time. He could not understand the pain he felt in his chest and the continuous running down of water from his eyes.

He did not realize though, Gods had other plans. The Blazing Sun left him for her luxurious heaven, leaving him all by himself: helpless, handicapped, a cripple. 
Lost in his pain; soon the clouds dispersed, sun disappeared far in the horizon and darkness descended. That night he looked above into the heaven, searching for the single moon among many galaxies of stars. He asked the moon that why Sun left him alone, the moon replied back anxiously that it did not know why the Sun left him but every single night it prays that its’ own beloved Sun would return to be the savior of world from this darkness. The moon consolidated him on this night of raging storms by given him hope that ‘at the end of every night, there is a morning”. That night he didn’t sleep and wondered if his sun will ever come back or leave him all by himself in this world of darkness.

About Me

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Fresh college graduate trying to restart blogging after 4 awesome years.