THE SAME LOVE AGAIN

In the cantonment area of the city, eminent members of aristocracy have got magnificent houses, each of which is spread over several acres of land. In the same vicinity, there is a road having trees on both sides. At the end of the road, there is a grand mansion belonging to the retired Commissioner Amjad Raza. Once again that evening, it was glittering with the light of electric bulbs. The heat of the sun had gone but the evening had not yet spread its wings. The Commissioner's old Mercedes Car which was now mostly used for domestic purposes, soon appeared from some distance. It was being driven by our oldest driver Shakir. With an expression of immense delight, Mr. Sunny was sitting in the car as if he had returned from a highly successful adventure. Seated on the back seat were two extremely shy girls clad in white shawls clinging together. However, there was no sign of Maulvi Alimuddin. Before reaching near the large fenced gate, the driver blew the horn twice in his peculiar fashion to announce his arrival. Receiving this signal, two servants rushed out of a wooden cabin, that had been built along the huge gate having iron fences. They opened the gate before the car could reach there. The blue Mercedes of the Commissioner swiftly entered the house. By the time I got ready and reached the party hall downstairs, almost all the guests had arrived. As soon as he saw me from a distance, Sunny waved his hand as if he had got something very important to tell me. But at that moment, he was completely surrounded by his friends and cousins and, therefore, it was impossible for him to come closer to me. As usual, Ibad was making best possible attempts to impress the ladies, their daughters and other girls. In another corner of the room, Father and Brother Sajjad were busy in striking business deals with some eminent figures of the business community. Father was always keen to grasp such opportunities for promoting his business. There was a considerable hustle and bustle in the hall which seemed to be flooded with lights and colours. In this festive atmosphere, Mother and Abrina were busy using all possible ways and means of impressing the invited ladies. They were talking about the latest jewellery, upcoming fashions and plans of spending the summer vacation in France or Switzerland. Such colourful discussions and glamorous dresses were giving the impression that the grand show had been arranged to celebrate Sunny's marriage instead of his completion of the first Para of the Holy Quran. While coming downstairs, I had received salutations and greetings from several dreamful eyes, but as Kamran had once said, I had been extremely ungrateful in such matters. For some unknown reasons, the idea of love and romance always made me laugh. I had not even formally liked women the way in which they are generally described in our common romantic stories. Perhaps, one of its major reasons was that throughout my academic career I had received co-education and eversince my childhood, girls had been my best friends with whom I had spent a sufficient amount of time in their toy rooms (in childhood), study rooms (in adolescence) and bedrooms (in youth). Thus for me, all the girls attending the party were mere girls and nothing else. They were just like a large number of class fellows living together in a hostel. I knew all of them very well and same was the case with them. I had acted as a trustworthy confidant for many of them. But I wonder why I could never realize the fact that all these girls had now crossed the boundaries of childhood and adolescence and reached their youth, where each of them required only one man who could become their husband and serve as their only confidant. All of them were the daughters of the members of gentry and those bureaucrats who had retired with my father. To have a glimpse of the youthful and modern beauty of these girls, ordinary college boys spent the whole day wandering through the streets of the cantonment area. But I had been so close to this beauty that its observation had become a routine matter for me. To be more truthful and honest, I had never liked to be restless for the sake of a person who is almost similar to me. The fact is that most of the girls who came into my life were foolish, having the same type of styles and manners. In the presence of boys, they tried to look very serious and sober, but while they were in the company of other girls, they talked about the boys exactly as we boys talked about them when we were alone. As I was coming down stairs, the first girl who seized me was Lubna the daughter of Mrs. Ishrat. "O Medi! Where do you live these days? What an indifference! What an insensitivity!" "I've heard that one must keep oneself at an arm's length from the beautiful maidens," I replied rather teasingly. "O You naughty boy!" she remarked with a smile and added, "Are you coming to our home on Thursday to attend Salma's engagement party?" Lubna's sister Salma was younger than her by one year. I looked towards her in utter astonishment and asked, "Is Salma going to be engaged?" "Yes, she's going to be engaged," replied Lubna quite frankly. "But what about those promises which Salma had made with me?" I asked her. Lubna turned around, looked towards me and began to speak in a romantic tone, "As far as those promises are concerned, she has transferred those promises to me and I'm prepared to wait for their fulfillment, till I become an old woman. Do tell me now, will you come to us on Thursday?" In the meantime, Maria and Humera arrived there from different directions. They strongly disapproved my standing there all alone with Lubna. Humera was aware of the fact that I was very fond of black dress. For this reason, just to attract my attention on that occasion, she was wearing a black Sari; and to be honest, her white colour matched well with the black Sari. As usual, Maria was wearing flippers and a tight shirt of the latest fashion. "Medi," she began to speak in a rather proud tone. "You seem to have locked yourself indoors after the completion of your university studies. You are meeting me tomorrow evening. I've got several things to tell you. No excuses." Standing at some distance, Naila and Pinky were angrily glaring at me while I was talking to Maria. The threatening gestures which they were making to me suggested that they were determined to take me to task, whenever they got the opportunity to see me alone. It is surprising to note that whenever all those girls were alone, they had the same type of secrets to reveal, the same complaints to make and the same words to say. Perhaps, all the girls of the world were created at the same place and with the same material. Whenever they got a chance of meeting me alone, all of them complained that after the completion of my studies, I had stopped paying attention towards them. Under one pretext or the other, they repeatedly held my hand, showed the signs of annoyance and finally, they themselves changed their mood and became friendly again. All of them had the same type of romanticism to show. They vigorously complained that I had never attempted to know what I actually meant for them. They all protested that while I was indifferent towards them, with utmost love and care, they had preserved in their hearts the blissful memories of the time that I had spent with them in their childhood and adolescence. At times, I was amazed to think about the deep rooted impacts of the childhood memories and childhood romances in the minds of these girls. It appears that during their childhood, girls make innocent friendships with the boys only in the hope of making them the prince of their dreams in their youth. Anyhow, till that time, I was totally unaware of the true meanings of this romanticism. I did not know what an honour it is to be the beloved of someone. People spend their whole life in making love but only the chosen few are fortunate enough to be blessed with the prestigious honour of being the beloved of someone. Most of us spend most of our lives struggling to make others our own beloved, because, we do not have the power to become the beloved of someone else. It is a unique honour which descends from the heavens on a few fortunate souls, but quite ironically, those who are blessed with this honour, are themselves unaware of its true value and sanctity. In a cheerful mood, I continued to march forward among the guests, meeting all of them, flirting with the beautiful girls and exchanging jokes with them. Till that moment, I was quite unaware that very soon, I was going to be caught up in the blue season of love, which seemed to be hovering around me for centuries, waiting for a suitable opportunity to overwhelm me. Then, all of a sudden, I felt as if my feet had been glued to the wooden floor of the hall. All the noise and clamour and the enchanting music of the silvery laughters were suddenly brought to a halt. Everything stood still and it appeared as if with the help of a magical remote, someone had cast a spell on the whole gathering, making it motionless. She was sitting in front of me in a confused, frightened and petrified condition, under the cover of her long white Dupatta (head covering or stole). She was attempting to protect herself from the eyes of the men who were passing by. In this process, with the mixture of pink colour, her gold like colour was further warming up. For a moment, she lifted her thick black eyebrows and forever, I was drowned into the ocean of those eyes. What a drastic change occurred in the twinkling of an eye. If people describe such events as sudden attacks of cupid, it was indeed the most merciless and most relentless attack that I had ever experienced in my life. I knew not, who that girl was, clad in white dress. When compared to her exquisitely delicate appearance, the whole gathering appeared to be a coarse rug while she herself looked like a patch of velvet in that rug. It does not mean that she was the only beautiful girl present on the occasion. The party was in fact, a grand panorama of stunning beauties who were capable of attracting and detracting anyone at any time. But there was something unique and rare in this girl who was sitting silently and shyly in one corner of the room, beside another girl who looked a bit younger having a somewhat similar appearance. From her long dark hair to her dainty little shoes, she seemed to be a whole world in herself. In utter amazement, the men and women who were passing by, looked towards these two girls, who were apparently, a big misfit for the party. All at once, I realized that the sleeve of my coat was being pulled by a tiny little hand, which abruptly brought me out of the current of my thoughts. Perhaps, for a long time, Sunny had been calling me. "Uncle, Medi Uncle, please listen to me." I looked towards him but in reality, I was still completely absorbed in that girl. Sunny seemed somewhat annoyed with me. "Go away uncle, I won't talk to you," he said rather angrily and continued, "Everyone else has given me gifts today. But you haven't yet---." Before he could complete his sentence, I picked him up in my both hands and made him sit on a nearby table. "Sunny dear, how is it possible for your Medi Uncle not to give you some gift today? Tell me what you want from me." An innocent joy appeared on Sunny's face and he began to think quite seriously. "I want a new play station along with two jockeys," he said after a pause. "It's O.K. It will be in your room by tomorrow," I said in an assuring manner. "Are you happy now?" I asked. "O Uncle, you are really great!" Shouted Sunny, with a great deal of excitement. After this, I came to the real point which I wished to discuss with him. "But Sunny dear, I can see some new faces in your party today. You haven't yet introduced me to them." While saying this, I pointed towards the two girls sitting at some distance. "Well, they are Iman and Haya, the daughters of my Maulvi. They have specially come here this evening only for my sake." While Sunny was explaining the matter, I was constantly looking towards that girl who possessed killing beauty. It was revealed to me that when Shakir and Sunny went to the Maulvi's house, they were told that the Maulvi had been suffering from fever since the previous night and, therefore, it was impossible for him to attend the party. However, the obstinate Sunny insisted that if no member of the Maulvi's family attended the party, he would have the party postponed. In fact, on a number of occasions in the past, when the weather was not good or when there was something wrong with the Maulvi's only bicycle, Sunny had accompanied the driver Shakir to drop the Maulvi at his house. Moreover, whenever the Maulvi went back home accompanied by Sunny in the Commissioner's car, he never let Sunny go back without drinking the home made lemon juice, which was Sunny's favourite drink. This drink was made by the Maulvi's elder daughter Iman. Thus, the Maulvi's wife and his daughters had become quite intimate with Sunny and Sunny also had the same feelings of intimacy for them. Perhaps, due to this very reason, the Maulvi had to succumb to the obstinacy of Sunny that evening. The Maulvi's wife was always horrified by the idea of attending such parties and, therefore, she suggested that Haya should be sent with Sunny to attend the party. Generally, the Maulvi strongly disliked such things but after thinking something, he allowed Haya to go with Sunny for some time. But Haya refused to go alone to the party. At last, the old driver Shakir who had been standing outside for a long time, waiting for Sunny to come, himself came to the door and assured the sick Maulvi that he had no cause to worry, because, both Haya and Iman were just like his own daughters, who had been brought up in his own hands. He requested the Maulvi to allow his daughters to go with Sunny and attend the party, though for a short time. Shakir promised to bring them back home immediately after the party. As far as Haya was concerned, the Maulvi had already agreed to send her with Sunny, but Iman's case was different. She had never stepped out of her home alone eversince she had entered her youth. At last, for some unknown reason, he agreed to Shakir's proposal. Perhaps, he wanted to show some regard for Shakir who had been his old neighbour in the same locality. Or perhaps, he did not like to break the heart of the little Sunny. But quite restlessly, he continued to walk in the courtyard and in the street near the car, till at last, both the girls were seated comfortably inside the car. Even at the time when Shakir set the car into motion, the Maulvi again repeated the instructions which he had already given him several times. We do not have the least notion of the sudden, unexpected events and accidents, which may lie in store for us, anywhere and at any moment. I personally believe that love is the greatest accident which may occur in our life at any moment, while we the human beings are so innocent and helpless that we always blame the words "if only" for all such accidents. If only I had not been at home that evening. If only the Maulvi had not been ill that day. If only Sunny himself had not gone to the Maulvi's house to invite him to the party. If only the Maulvi had not allowed Iman to accompany her sister Haya to the party. If only, if only. I have forgotten everything that happened at the party afterwards. Perhaps, I was no longer in my senses. When for the second time, I looked towards the place where Iman and Haya had been sitting clinging together, the place was vacant and there was no sign of either of them in the whole gathering. I was told that both of them had gone. As Shakir had promised with the Maulvi to bring back the girls before the Maghrib Prayer, they had sent a message to him, urging him to take them back even before the party had ended. They had departed from the scene while I could do nothing except scolding my fate. It appeared as if while going back to her home, Iman had taken along with her a large chunk of my existence. Till a short while ago, the party seemed to be flooded with colours and lights, sparkling with smiles and echoing with laughters. But all of a sudden, it seemed desolate, deserted and devastated as if someone had squeezed out of it, all of its colours. Strange indeed is the alchemy of love, because at times, with the presence of some loved one, a huge crowd of strangers seems to be intimate, while at the very next moment with the departure of the beloved, it becomes dull, drab and alien. Mine was totally a one-sided affair because all the storms were raging only in my heart whereas Iman was totally unaware of them. If people describe such feelings as love, then exactly the same feelings of love were circulating with my blood. Could this love be so powerful as to change all of my feelings, passions, styles and sensibilities so dramatically and drastically, in spite of being a purely one-sided affair?