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Chapter 1
What shall I call the chapter? Starting with a clich and calling it 'Guns
& Roses'.
Pass aaye,
Dooriyan phir bhi kam naa hui,
Ek adhoori
si
hamari kahani rahi.
Aasman ko zameen,
Ye zaroori nahi,
Jaa mile...jaa mile.
Ishq sachha wohi,
Jisko milti nahi manzilein...manzielein.
Rang the noor tha,
Jab kareeb tu tha,
Ek Jannat sa tha, ye jahan.
Waqt ki ret pe, kuchh mere naam sa,
Likh ke chhod gaya tu kahan?
Hamari adhoori kahani
Hamari adhoori kahani
Hamari adhoori kahani
Hamari adhoori kahani
"Flight JS123 flying non-stop from Islamabad to New Delhi
will now start boarding business class passengers." A pleasant voice floated in
the air.
News papers started folding. Laptops were being shut. Last
dregs of coffee were being drunk and trash cans were being searched. Soon a
small queue formed near the gate.
He was yet to get up from his chair.
He had a book open. He didn't hear the announcement. He was immersed in the book. But he had noticed the movement around him that had followed the announcement. Eternal conflict of his life. He was an army man who was alert, watchful, observant all the time. He was a poet - one of the nation's finest - who liked to get lost in moments. He had learned to compartmentalize over the years. He was a fierce army man when on call of duty rising at the rank of Colonel and he was a tenderhearted poet who loved to watch moon light reflecting on quietly meandering Chenab.
Business class queue had shortened. Time to get up. He
dogeared the book that he was reading before closing it, took off his reading
glasses and carefully moved his right leg; an old injury had started acting up
in last few months. Army doctor had pronounced him completely fit in a full
body check up conducted last month but had gently smiled when he had talked
about pain in right leg. He was aging and he just needed to live with it.
"Janaab Shaad Aftab Khan," gate agent scanned his boarding pass and gave a shy smile. He returned an easy smile. He had learned to give that easy smile in her company. And, he had never forgotten to smile. Fine lines around his mouth were a proof of that. Sometimes that smile was accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. Today it was just a smile.
"Can I get an autograph? Please...," There were two more passengers behind him in the queue and yet she asked. Earlier her colleague had pointed out with glee to a white kurta-blue jeans clad man sitting in the corner row.
A sure and bold but graceful hand smoothly moved on a piece of paper.
"One more for my friend, please."
He obliged.
"Thank you."
He nodded and walked ahead towards his mother's land. Her land.
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Bhopal
"Earth is a continuously evolving place. Earthquakes, floods, volcano eruptions are constantly working on the face of Earth and changing it every day. Today we are going to talk about one such amazing work of nature. In a recent earthquake, a river has changed its course. When people who had fled at the time of earthquake returned to their houses or what remained of those houses, to their great surprise they found that houses on opposite bank were now their neighbours. A very interesting geological phenomenon..."
Channel changed.
"Researchers are claiming that they have made a groundbreaking discovery which can lead to treatment of Alzheimer's."
Channel changed.
"Trade experts are ready to pronounce the film biggest blockbuster of the year..."
Channel changed.
"Ghee ke chhonke ki baat hi kuchh aur hain. Aah..kya khushboo hain. Ab thodi si barik kati hui hari mirch daliye. Sambhal ke..."
Channel changed.
"Indo-Pak mushayara being held in Bhopal this week. A feast for poetry lovers as ace poets from both the countries gather under one roof."
Channel changed.
"Ab dekhiye is Bandar ko jisne seekha hain chhuri aur kaante se khana."
The hand moving on remote paused and gazed at the screen fondly. Afsaana had started working as a local reporter for a national news channel six months back. Novelty of seeing her on TV screen had died now. She and Seher didn't run to switch on TV every time Afsaana's news piece was airing, but if they caught her while changing channels; they loyally watched her, even if it was something as ridiculous as a monkey learning dinner etiquette. Being a junior news reporter was not easy. Tonight she was bound to come home fuming.
"Mujhe uske liye kuchh khas banana chahiye," She thought. But as she thought more about Afsaana's favourite desert, she felt sadness overpowering her. She reached for her depression medicine on table, gulped it down and kept changing channels.
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"Jaan, late ho jaayega. Dinner ke liye wait mat karna."
"Mujhe tum subah breakfast table pe milni chahiye."
"Sure, Jaan. Ammi ko bhi bol dena. How is she? Where is she?"
"Hall main TV dekh rahi hain."
"Ok. Bye, Jaan. Good night. Tell Ammi, too."
"Stay safe. Bye." Seher said good bye to her daughter and walked towards hall where TV was blaring.
She saw the sleeping figure on sofa and sighed. She searched for remote and switched off TV. She gently removed a book that was clutched in her sister's hands. Chaand ka Paani' - the title read. She remembered that her sister had said that river Chenab literally meant Chaand ka paani', as she put a blanket around her sleeping form and adjusted a cushion under her head. She switched off lights and walked towards kitchen to have a quick dinner.
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Dear Readers,
Presenting you a story of Shaad Aftaab Khaan and his Jannat.
This is point 0 and it is going to be a forward march.
Isn't this song gorgeous?
[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-fWejtOkCYs[/YOUTUBE]
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