Half closed eyes at the last part of night saw the familiar room. Khalid had slept staring at the ceiling with dimmed lights. The day hadn’t dawned outside neither was Khalid a morning bird. He could feel uneasiness in his sleep. Maybe it was the room that he was given at a colleague’s house for night stay as he couldn’t travel further on his journey before morning. The earliest bus moved out for Lahore at 7 am. Sarim, his colleague who belonged to Sargodha, asked him to stay at his home for night and travel in the morning. Khalid half-heartedly had accepted the offer as he too was tired and was yearning for a home made meal. The room given to him was comfortable with a bed and couple of chairs aside. White marble floor was neat and a simple clock ticked on the wall. Sarim left Khalid early in the room so he could get some rest. Left alone, Khalid laid back. He was tired but had to change in nightsuit before sleeping. He didn’t want to change. Yet he made a quick movement to relief himself of the shirt and trousers. The PJs were comfy but his movement had taken away the comfort of preslumber. He was wide awake. It was almost a daily ritual which he despised. It wasn’t insomnia nor were his thoughts haywire. He just uncomfortable closing his eyes. The slightest sound woke him up. The room had become familiar by now. All the comfort that it offered couldn’t help him find the perfect sleep. Yet in between he slept and now in between the broken patterns of sleep his half open eyes were trying to close to find a sound sleep. Right at the moment in one of the chairs the figure of a man appeared in the same shirt and trousers that he had taken off earlier. Khalid closed his eyes firmly. Opening them again he saw man in the chair again. He looked at the ceiling and let out a gasp.
‘Not today.’
‘Why not?’ asked the man in the chair while leaning forward.
Khalid still stared at the ceiling, ignoring his ghostly roommate’s attention towards his body lying flat on the bed. He moved his lips lazily, ‘because there’s absolutely no use.’
‘How can you say that without even looking at me? Do you know who I am?’
‘I don’t need to look at someone who wears my clothes to disguise itself from reality.’
‘It?’
‘I thought a pronoun might not hurt you.’ a faint smirk appeared on his face and disappeared. He still stared at the ceiling.
‘Khalid…Khalid! My dear boy! How will you ever fear someone.’ The Man got up from the chair and walked towards his bed. The heels of his polished laced shoes were silent on the floor. Khalid could see them without taking his eyes away from the ceiling. He remembered the dress well.
Sitting beside his feet the man spoke in the impeccable grace of speech that he had maintained till now, ‘Preach what you want to. I’m here to hear you.’
‘Im not amongst the ones who are given respect from the place where you sit right now. You can find a lord to preach somewhere else.’ Khalid closed his eyes.
The man now moved towards his headrest, ‘Would you wake up today or do you want me to stay?’
Khalid was silent now.
The deft ghostly hands moved hovered over his body. ‘Ah! You still won’t let me touch you.’
‘So many have come and gone. Let me see your steadiness.’ Khalid’s body rose and his eyes opened wide now. He could see his face in his clothes sitting in his bed. ‘Now I look into your eyes but I don’t need to know you. I will know you when you are ready to tear me apart. Come when you are steady.’
With a blink of an eye the figure started evaporating in front of khalid’s eyes. A cloud of smoke blew out of the shirt’s collar and mixed with air in the room.
….
Khalid’s eye’s were still half open. Dawn was near at door. His body was sweating. It was another night wasted. He got up and grabbed the clothes lying over him.
‘Atleast have the courtesy of putting back my clothes in the changing room if you can’t stay long.’ he murmured and walked away to get ready for another day outside.
Tag Archives: Writer
Beach wolf
When the sun peeks
Our embrace it seeks
Smiling in the horizon
Watching our lil heaven
Dancing on waves shall we
make the sun now see
Before comes the moon
wolves shall love soon
Till the sunset be calm
Night would do us no harm
Then shall we go wild
Walking over each tide
When moonlight shall caress
Our bodies loving in embrace
Love
Love for a lifetime is not essential if you had a single day to feel love of a lifetime
A Quick Note!
Music danced over snow coloured skin of her cheeks. Those eyes, as of a wolf, staring into the horizon upon a prey faraway from her devouring canines. Such thoughts humble a wolf and then follows a look of innocence. Eyes blinking over lips, pink as smudges of twilight embracing the falling sun, forcing you to believe in one longing sight. A sight that makes you trade your very existence for it.
Fucking Besties!
‘You have to go through all this.’ Sarah loved saying that to people, ‘Perks of being with me.’
‘I never objected that.’ He replied watching Sarah recline in her chair. The same chair that has been a trademark of every office, with steel legs to support the uncomfortable leather seat. Continue reading Fucking Besties!
Book Discussion
Most of you must have read this masterpiece. I won’t write much about it in the review as we all know that such naration of magical realism can’t be explained but felt. Though the critiques have been generous with their comments over the fast paced timeline with many slow details but overall it’s a wonderful experience to read it. I’m open to discussions!
A Dialogue Within
‘I feel suffocated.’
‘Of what?’
‘Time, I suppose.’
‘How can you be suffocated by some medium. I mean time is a medium.’
‘Yes! And it’s not on my side. Not right now.’ Continue reading A Dialogue Within
Curse!
‘These women have God’s curse upon them. Why do you suit yourself with such filth?’, he was asked outside the brothel.
‘If God put her in this state and he bothers to curse her but not the lustful client, then, she must be special. I look for God in her!’ he replied.
Book Review
There are an infinite amount of books with unfathomable sea of words pouring out of them. We all have read many such books but there are only a few that can be related to our lives. Irum Zahra’s ‘Psychaotic’ is a book related to poetry with little toppings of sweet prose. It successfully stands out to be a great collection of poetry because of the bond that this book develops with the reader and gives a serene moment of soul surfing. Not at a single moment, while reading, anyone would develop an impression that this book is written by someone else. It turns out to be a rhyming and rhythmic story of our own personal lives. Psychaotic touches our hidden passions for tragedy at first by cherishing on its aftermath. It then moves to pain, both emotional and physical. A unique taste is served here by giving both perspectives of pain; when it is inflicted on the victim and then finding the joy of sadistically throwing it back to its origin. Themes of love and its evolving stages are beautifully explained along-with a narrative on different perspectives about such themes. Psychaotic slowly engulfs the reader by providing the comfort of feeling and connecting to each word and emotion written in it. Indeed a great work by a very talented poetess and writer.
