Fanaa (Part 1)

This is the first instalment of Fanaa, a love story I'm writing, set in the backdrop of Kashmir. This is my maiden attempt at story writing, so any kind of criticism/feedback is always welcome.
Here's the link to Part 2.
Now read on :)
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She woke each day at dawn to the pealing of dozens of bells, to the smell of night-queen still pervading the chilly morning air. Her tiny house overlooked the magnificent stone temple perched on the opposite hillock that could be reached only by climbing a thousand steps. And then the air would be rent with the rumble of a hundred voices, sonorously chanting the Gayatri mantra. The chanting cleared her mind and reassured her that Lord Shankaracharya would someday bring peace to her Valley.

And then, without fail, a single thought so intense would occupy her, that all other thoughts were driven away. She heard him speaking to her through the chanting…and just as the first rays of the Sun crept over the sky and flushed out all vestiges of the night, she felt her heart soar and keel over simultaneously.

Haunting, lyrical and evocative, his voice was enough to make her drop all that she was doing and listen. When it echoed across the lake, it filled her with happiness.

Yet another day. Yet another landmine. Yet another……

Yet another day in a land devoid of peace.

Yet another day of carrying a secret….

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The azaan filled him with peace. Listening to the sacred words of the kalimah drifting over the placid lake to his houseboat reassured him that peace would reign over the Valley soon. As he bowed his head for the morning namaz, he thought he saw her face when he closed his eyes; her huge kohl-lined almond eyes, her laugh like a gurgling stream. A slow smile spread on his lips. But an admonishing glare from his father compelled him into assuming a more appropriate expression.

But Atif was distracted already. He could not seem to erase her memories from his mind.

Everything about her was alluring…the way she stooped to draw water from the river; the serenity of her expression when she closed her eyes and stopped to listen to the azaan from the mosque everyday; the tinkling of her bangles whenever she moved her hands.

The way she smiled whenever she caught sight of him. It was enough to break his heart.

He remembered the day when his uncles smuggled a radio into the house and adjusted the frequency to AIR.  That day, he was barely in his senses as he sang ghazals with gusto while ferrying passengers and tourists up and down the Nigeen. The brightly clad tourists paid him extra fare that day; and business had been good ever since Atif started his impromptu performances.

The mountains had never before been so appealing to him.

hoshwaalon ko khabar kya

bekhudi kya cheez hai?

what do the sane

know of insanity?

But only he knew why that was so.

ishq kijiye phir samjhiye

zindagi kya cheez hai

they, who have not loved

will never know of life

Flowers were blooming in the Valley again.