Part 1

       قلب بارد

          ( The Cold-Hearted)

A story of flesh, blood, power and Ishq

   —————

  —————

A rush of people, crowds upon crowds of people walked through the gigantic white door, a pathway towards a sense of sweet spirituality. The air around the Darbaar was sweet, smelled of tears, hope and spirituality and vibrated with the sound of Azaan.

Asfandyaar walked through the ta white gate, among the swarm of people headed towards the masjid. The Jamaat was about to begin and he was late. The ablution area was under open air and the sky was getting calmer and cooler, the scorching heat dying down to a pleasant breeze. Anfandyaar's steps halted in their path when his eyes met a lone figure clad in a large black chaddar quickly trying to perform the ablution. The universe slowed down, seconds extending to hours and then a lifetime as he lost every control he had on his eyes.

A thin figure, a large black chaddar with miniscule, dainty skin coloured embroidery at the borders. Face hidden from him, dainty hands effortlessly folding the sleeves of her clothes. Wrists being washed, a hand coming forward to remove the only piece of jewellery she wore, a thin golden band of a ring and placed it on the marble bench. The Masaa was done and then bending. forward, the feet were washed. Like a trance he watched, even though he could hear the imam starting the prayer but he watched. Watched until she ran off, barefoot and without even letting his eyes wander upon her face for once.

Asfandyaar's focus came back, he moved forward, gulped, slow steps until he reached the bench, Fingers trembled for once before they touched the cold metal of the ring.

A thin golden band.

                 /////////////

Asfandyar sat on the white marble banister, his brown kurta trouser crumbled now after the namaz, the thin ring still in his hand. His eyes had been searching the gates of the masjid in hopes of seeing her again but in vain. Disappointed, he cast another glance at the gate before getting up, the cold metal now and warm after absorbing the heat from his palm. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a black cloth. Immediately he turned his head to find her walking out of the gates slowly, calmly, thin hands still in a form a cup, lissome fingers bent in front of her face before she blew over them and let them fall.

Her face came in front of his eyes. Dark as night eyes, lips a soulful red and skin glowing with something he couldn't process. And a tiny black mole in the middle of her chin.

سیاہ چادر میں ڈھکی وہ سیاہ آنکھیں۔

Asfandyar stopped right in front of her and she looked up at him. Eyes met. Souls met. And he felt his heart beating for the first time in his life in that minisecond. His hold around the ring tightened but then she looked away, moving past him into the crowd and he was left with a still heart and cold metal trembling in his fist.

                       —————

Hi, how's this for start?
It's a new story, I know I have to complete the old ones but I couldn't right now. So I guessed something is better than nothing, right ?