Ecstasy: A Montage of Poems and Short Stories by Suleman Nasir (story reading txt) đź“–
- Author: Suleman Nasir
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Lo, the vagaries of fate,
her prayers knocked the heaven’s gate
Angels emerged, one dark as night and the other as bright as day,
One, to bless him with life, one to take her away.
13. The Thought of You
I think of you, when the sky sheds morning light,
I think of you, when it attires the cloak of night,
I think of you, when the sky showers its tears,
I think of you, when it smiles with its rainbow,
I think of you, with every breath I draw,
I think of you, with every blink of my eye,
I think of you, when the goddess of happiness smiles upon me,
I think of you, when the demons of sorrow rage upon me,
For my heart with you, a sacred temple,
Without you, a mere ruin.
14. To Be A Human
You are a human, if you descry the good in others,
You are a human, if you are colorblind to their darkness,
You are a human, if you are deaf to the words aimed at reviling others,
You are a human, if you do not scar others with the sharp words forged by your tongue,
You are a human, if your hands are incapable of battering others,
You are a human, if your heart vomits malign intentions fed to it,
You are a human, if your religion is humanity.
Short Stories
Short Stories
1. A Burnt Valley
As Abida looked herself in the mirror, a ghastly face stared back at her; she failed to recognize her own face.
Abida always deemed herself blessed, for the face Lord had given her. Poring over the lovely characteristics of her face in the mirror always left her heart brimming with blended feelings of bliss, gratitude and minor shreds of proud.
But, today was unlike any other day, the gorgeous Abida, which always transpired in the mirror, was nowhere to be seen, instead, there was Abida, with a monstrous scarred face. Her face resembled a beautiful valley, brought to dust by a brutal wildfire. This was what acid had done to her face, leaving her doomed to live with this burnt and disfigured face, for the rest of her days.
. . . . . . . .
It was a hot summer day of July, sun above was radiating fire; Abida was unable to contain her temper, for her taxi driver was late than the time ordained.
“Where that stupid has gone to, if I stood here for a few more minutes, I shall be Bar-B Queued under this hot sun” Abida said furiously.
“For God’s sake Abida, Be patient. It has only been 15 minutes. Don’t be so theatrical”, said Sajida, her younger sister.
Wrinkles appeared on Abida’s forehead, showing her frustration.
“Look at that shameless womanizer, ogling at me, like he has never set eyes upon a girl before” Abida’s anger rose to high heaven.
“Shut Up Abida, don’t look over there, mind your own beeswax” Sajida admonished her.
It was Kamal, standing at a feet’s distance from them, his eyes stuck with laser-like focus on Abida. He had been doing it for past several weeks. It had become his day to day routine to wait for Abida outside her campus, and when she manifests, to take deep glances at her. He garnered all the courage he could, and began treading towards her.
“He is coming over here, don’t you utter a single word Abida, just stick your eyes to the ground” Said Sajida, in single breath.
Kamal was at an arm’s length from them. “Can I talk to you, in seclusion?” Kamal addressed Abida.
“Say what you have to say, here” Replied Abida with a shrill voice.
“Umm…I….I…have…..” kamal’s voice failed to support him.
“What is it?” Abida’s temper was rising by leaps and bounds.
“I….I…Love…you…and….I……………want to….marry..you…I have been…following you for weeks…..and all I think about is ….you…I don’t even know your name….but you have stolen….my heart…and..I”
Before Kamal could finish his confession, Abida cut him mid-sentence.
“What? Hahahahaha...” Abida burst into sarcastic laughter.
She continued “Love? Have you even taken a glance at your face in the mirror? What made you think I’d accept proposal from a street-loiterer like yourself, don’t you ever dare to show me your face again, or else you will regret it for the rest of your life”.
“But…I…believe me…I really” Kamal’s voice broke.
“Shut up! Do you want me to call security? Is that what you want me to do?” shouted Abida.
People standing nearby began to notice the commotion.
“Let’s go, Abida, stop it. Let’s go” Sajida pulled her arm, as she saw her taxi approaching. Kamal was quivering with a brew of anger and embarrassment.
. . . . . . . .
Abida woke up at the crack of dawn, and started to get ready for the university. She put on her favorite blue dress, gifted to her by her mother, on her birthday; she put on her abaya, covered her head with Hijab-letting a few rebellious locks of hair rest on her forehead-and left. Little did she know, what fate had in stores for her.
As Abida left campus after her classes came to an end, her eyes started to search for Kamal, and her heart praying for him not being there. She did not want to confront him.
He was standing across the road. As he saw Abida cross the threshold of gate, he leapt towards her like a famished cheetah does at a gazelle.
“I told you not to follow me, why can you not get it into your thick head?” Abida turned red with anger boiling inside her.
“I love you with all my heart, and if you didn’t accept my proposal, I shall end my life right in front of you, with this deadly poison” he said, bringing a bottle out of his bag.
“You can die, crash or burn, for all I care, but if you ever crossed my path again, I will kill you myself” said Abida with sheer indifference.
As Abida turned towards the road, Kamal uncorked the bottle and threw the liquid contained within, on Abida’s face. It was Sulphuric Acid. As it came in contact with Abida’s skin, it made a hissing sound like coupling of water with boiling oil. Abida screamed at the top of her lungs. She toppled on the ground and fainted, for the pain of acid feeding on her skin was unendurable for her to bear. Kamal had run away, before the people surrounding Abida’s unconscious body could capture him.
2. A Star-Crossed Love
“Love was meant to be our savior, a mean to escape from harsh reality and an elixir to put an end to all our sufferings. Love is innocent, yet so brutal; it waters the flower of life and eventually plucks it mercilessly. In the desert of life -blazing with agonies, heartaches and pains- we seek solace in cool oasis of love, but it never materializes in its true essence, and why would it? Isn’t it the very nature of a mirage? We take stabs at quenching the unquenchable thirst of our desires and longings with salty water of love, but it further aggravates our cravings, in lieu of alleviating them. The sands of time slip from our hands and in the end, it is unveiled upon us, that the flame of love, which we worshipped alike a moth, was naught but a mesmerizing illusion”.
Fatimah contemplated, lying on the cold mud, drenched in her own blood, waiting for the angel of death to liberate her soul from her beautiful cage of flesh. Blood was gushing from the side of her forehead, like water from a fountain, where the axe had left its mark. In dark of the night, her blue eyes shone like a Neelum stone. A gun roared and a tall/thin boy thumped on the ground, right in front of her. She knew too well the contours of his face; a face with pointy nose, dark brown eyes and thin lips, and a head topped with curly hair. His name was inked on the scroll of her heart: Shahryar. His lifeless body lay right ahead of her; his still eyes anchored at her deep blue eyes.
. . . . . . .
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