Chapter 6

Vintage Flow

@Vintage_flow

Chapter 5

Gods Too Conspire

The ride out of town was sublime.

Windows down, Zoya let the wind flirt with her hair, a gentle thrill humming through her veins.

Her heart finally felt at ease. Maybe it was the city, maybe the company or just the magical breeze kissing her face, heart’s hollowness gradually alleviated.

Meanwhile, Asad replayed phrases of poetry – again – getting lost in the words driving.

‘I miss the way he would look at me’ He glanced at her through the rear-view mirror, corners of mouth turning up at her cheerful figure tuning up the antakshari with the ladies.

She looked at him then. Gaze held and dispersed a second later. When hearts jumped, he thought, oh well!

So did she.

Forcing herself to notice something other than him, she shoved her mind outside the vehicle.

.

.

.

“Zoya? Zoya.” Aapi shook her awake. “We’re here honey.”

Zoya looked around with heavy eyelids and noticed the car was empty. Rest of the gang stood at the hotel entrance chatting while the men unloaded baggage.

“We are just going to rest a bit here, though you already did your part I guess.”

“Aapi, do not underestimate me.”

“Right, I almost forgot! Zoya Faaroqui doesn’t sleep, she hibernates.”

“Ha-ha Aapi, you’re so witty.”

“That I am, now come on sleepy head.” she lovingly tapped her head.

The hotel lobby was immaculate and rooms luxurious, just like she’d guessed. The girls shared a knowing look.

“Alright, I think we should meet in about two hours, that’d be enough time for everyone to rest. Though Miss Faaroqui already did her part I guess” Asad couldn’t resist.

“Why does everyone keep saying that” She threw her hands in the air “You sleep they have a problem, you don’t they have one” she whined dragging her luggage inside the room, laughter following her.

“You heard me didn’t you” An amused Zeenat turned to him. He gave her an embarrassed look of agreement “I like your style, young man”. 

Asad settled on giving in return a charming smile.

***

They had tried to make it before the evening prayers. The spiritual shrine boasted beautiful carvings and exquisite splendor. Doors made of pure silver transported a sense of peace and serenity as soon as one stepped in.

The whole dargah lit up with thousands of string lights made you forget everything besides itself. Everybody was shoulder to shoulder; an overwhelming crowd come home to receive blessings. There were voices and people everywhere you looked, but somehow in the din of chaos, there was palpable serenity you could breathe in.

Shortly after offering their prayers, Zoya walked adrift her mannats and shikayats she had laid out in front of her Allah Miyan tonight. Many answers she had asked for.

Asad walked behind her seeing but unseeing, pondering on the questions he had raised with the pious thread he tied. The many answers he seeked.

Step to step now without realizing, their families left behind, both were lost in contemplations and wishes of their own.

To their right, a qawwali playing in the background took over their thoughts; when it happened.

They suddenly bumped into each other with Zoya ending in his arms from the fall as the crowd pushed them around.

‘Jee main tu, jaan main tu, mere saare jahan main tu...’ Both pairs of eyes grew big. They had both just prayed for a sign, hadn’t they?

'...Ishq da rang hai nyaara, tere ishq da rang hai nyaara...’ Zoya made an attempt to detach herself from him but ended up with her earring stuck in his white kurta. She winced in pain trying to move away.

‘...Jee main tu, jaan main tu, mere saare jahan main tu...’ Eyes locked and held when his hands came up immediately to solve.

‘...Uski rangat meri aadat...’ He opened the hook of her earring and let the small jhumka dangle from his clothing.

‘...Uski chaahat ik ibaadat...’ She rubbed her now red ear and moved back slow, holding the gaze still.

‘...Uske hone se sab salamat...' He handed her the earring and its pieces shortly after, watching her make way through the crowd to the ancient khirni tree in the courtyard.

‘...Hone se hi sab salamat’ the voice amplified with every step she took away.

 Both inadvertently realized how words carried over by air had a different meaning once their hands and stares met.

***

The qawwali faded now as the familiar sound of mind took over. It was kind of a subliminal message – mystical and transcendent.

Hadn’t they both asked for clarities? A way to pursue? A sign from above?

Zoya looked at him standing at a distance from where she sat under the brightly lit tree alive with the sound of birds in it.

She couldn’t pretend like it didn’t happen. As a believer of signals from universe and having just fought with her almighty of not giving her any yet; this felt like an omen.

Look here it is! Look! Look! her Allah miyan seemed to say.

She groaned inwardly and Asad looked at her quizzically as he sat down next to her.

So, she did do that out loud. Oops.

“Your Aapi and Jeeju are very pleased that they got to visit here” He attempted conversation to end the awkward silence.

“Yes, they have wanted to come here forever. Myself included.”

Asad nodded and looked out into the sea of people, searching for everyone else, shaking his right leg to ease the nervousness he was feeling.

Why was he though?

He moved to look at Zoya sitting beside him in her white anarkali. Her head covered with a dupatta, a few strands of hair peeped through. Eyes closed; her face was calm and resplendent.

“Voh…actually?” came out all of a sudden.

“Actually?” she opened her eyes turning to him.

“How are you?” he’d been dying to ask.

“Better” she sighed, touched “Much better” she added later. Asad let out the breath he was holding onto.

He was only asking her how she was. Why in the world was he so nervous?!

A moment passed then two. The sparrows nestled in the tree were singing songs of their own.

There must be hundreds of them sitting in the age-old tree, Zoya thought. The whole dargah was alive with the sound of them.

“They say these birds always come during the time of prayers and leave once wishes are spoken.” Asad said when he saw her observing.

“Wow, they must only know peace then.”

“It’s hard to just know that; don’t you think?” he replied giving it a thought, looking up into the tree as well.

“You were right, Mr. Khan” Their eyes met “When the pain processes and thoughts are done with their ghosts, there will be tranquility.”

He looked on. Solemn. Intense.

“You know you aren’t entirely horrible at giving life advice” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully in hopes to lighten the mood “Maybe I will redact emotionally challenged from the title after all.”

“Shukriya” He was half sarcastic, half pleased, just like the smile that graced his lips.

His brain staggered under her scent, her presence, genuine twinkle in eyes and the truth in words. He wished in the second like he’d wished before, the cosmos give strength to her that she needed to let go.

When he opened his eyes, the flock of sparrows above flew off, taking their shadows into the night sky.  

***

💖 Haven't ever tried incorporating a song into writing so here's a try! It's a qawwali called Murshid khele holi