Fanaa (Part 3)

Here are the links to Part 2 and Part 4. Read on  :)
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The moon was still in the sky. Cloaked in darkness, a peaceful silence ensued over the Nigeen. The only sound that could be heard was the intermittent chirruping of the nightjars in the distance. Unknown to the world, a figure slipped though the shadows shrouded in black. It glanced nervously here and there; an ember-like fire burning in its heart all the while.

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At the east bank, Atif waited. He repented at his foolhardiness the previous night…Allah jaane what would have happened had anyone from her mohalla seen him; he would have had to pay with it for his life. The memory of the moment itself sent shivers down his spine. But now; he realized he had indirectly asked Megha to stake her life by asking her to meet him like this, by the lake. He knew what she would have to think of forfeiting by venturing out into the night.

Atif peered at the sky. He could see a faint glimmer of sunlight in the sky, indicating that it was soon about to be dawn; and contemplated abandoning the thought and heading home. But there was a slight iota of hope in him that she would come; if she loved him, she would be there. He had noticed the gleam in her eyes whenever they locked eyes for the briefest of moments.  “Allah maula,” he prayed, “listen to my prayer for once!”

And then, as if by some divine intervention, a clear mellifluous voice like windchimes rang  out: “Salaam aleikum!”

Atif froze.

It was Megha, standing in front of him like it was the most natural thing in the world. He could see relief intermingling with fear on her face…and all of his own worries seemed to melt away. She came closer to him and asked, “Why did you call me here like this?”

“Megha, I…”,

“Is it true? Is it true that you are leaving me and going to Anantnag?”

She had the same expression on her face; the one when Noor broke the news about his nikaahto her. The very same empty eyes and shattered hopes.

Atif, in barely more than a whisper, said, “No, my joonam”, using the old Persian term of endearment, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be with you always”, taking her hands firmly in his. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You promise?”

“Yes, my dear, with all my heart. Ever since I have known you, life has been like a ghazal for me…soothing, touching, heartrending. I will never leave you and go, anywhere.”

A smile broke onto Megha’s face like the sky softening after a thunderstorm. And then she did something very unexpected: she buried herself into his outstretched arms, and felt all the barriers melt away.

She did not care that he was Muslim and that she was Hindu. That they lived in Srinagar, the very heart of Kashmir; that this was the fundamental difference between them. All she knew was that she had never felt safer anywhere else at the moment.; that she was In the arms of a kafir.

The very people that her family so despised.

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The first rays of sunlight soon crept up over the sky, revealing a new day, with new hopes and dreams. The stark sunlight of reality hit Megha long after she had realized what she had done. She had given herself away to a stranger. And it was too late to look back now.

In the distance, Jagjit Singh’s deep soulful voice filled the cold morning air:

Ishq kijiye phir samjhiye

zindagi kya cheez hai

You will only know of life

if you have been in love…