He said when leaving home, don't think about your parents, siblings and your home at all, just think about me and yourself and keep an eye on the floor.
She was sitting in front of me in train. I entered the train. I glanced at her and sat quietly in my seat. She was wearing a red salwar and a green shirt. On it were adorned with red flowers of gold, a black dupatta with a golden fringe hanging at both ends, adorned with fine pearls that looked good on her wheaty face.
He must have been about eighteen or twenty years old. He had a big mobile phone in his hand and a small bag which he had left by the window.
I have repeatedly found my journey surrounded by difficulties where the needle of time stops, but today was the first coincidence that a story whose beginning hastened my time in a hurry to reach the end. I couldn't get out of the curiosity of the story.
The statement was excellent. The scenery was great too. I was just disturbed by the quest to know the end.
He opened the chain of his bag, took the SIM unlocking pin in his hand, took out the SIM slot and put the old SIM in the bag and inserted the new SIM.
With the sound of ting ting a few messages appeared on his screen which after reading carefully a few faint lines of joy and happiness appeared on his face. Then a gust of wind from the window turned many pages of my story at once and began to travel like a light horse from beginning to end.
Sometimes, if for a moment the signs of happiness and expansion were visible on the face, then suddenly the face would become dry with sadness and regret. Apparently Sharif was an educated girl of the house. Perhaps the vicissitudes of time and space had ensnared a cunning and deceitful man.
Then the train started moving with a slight hesitation. I looked outside. The train was slowly crawling to the station.
After a while, she took out a slip from her bag and started dialing the number written on it from her mobile. After many attempts, frustration and despair had spread the redness of worry and hesitation on his cheeks like the headline of Twilight.
I had read many pages of my story so far. His curiosity was similar to the intricate stories of Ibn Safi. I have taken great pleasure in finding excuses to communicate with fellow travelers. No problem? Can you use my phone if you need to call somewhere? You took out the old SIM and inserted the new SIM, why is that?
She looked at my face carefully and smiled and fell silent. Maybe he didn't like my question. I also remained silent. He re-numbered but did not succeed.
I said in a confident tone, "Can you ask me a question if you don't mind?" She hesitated to say yes. I said do you love someone, and run away from home and go to him? She looked at me in amazement and smiled and adjusted her dupatta with embarrassment and said yes, that's it.
A few pages of my story were licked by termites and a line was drawn from top to bottom in my rotten book, causing a few words to be swept away, making it difficult to understand the structure of the sentence.
I closed the book. When asked, he said. From Facebook. Oh Facebook! A hook came out of my heart. The chest tightened with pain. I fell silent with a long cold sigh. He glared at my face and said what's wrong with Facebook? Earlier people only knew the people around? Now is it a great source of friendship even from people far away? what do you think?
This question sentence surprised and amazed me. I was struggling with many questions at the same time in a few moments. My heart flickering at the girl's irrational and precocious age, thinking of the clever-minded boys who took an innocent mind in their grip, was extinguished by the sudden slowing motion of the train.
I broke the silence. Asked, can I know your name? You definitely don't need it! The answer was bitter. When I insisted, he said 'Shagufta' is a pseudonym.
I said how far is your journey? He fell silent. Asked again, he said the train would go beyond New Delhi. What do you have to do knowing so much detail? My friend forbade me to talk to a stranger on the way and give his name and address. Out of my mouth, your friend is very clever and kind. This hybrid made his mouth. And as soon as she opened the water bottle, she said. Will you take water?
I nodded. After a pause I said. Is there enough satisfaction on your face? I have never seen such a carefree and calm face on the face of a fugitive. She was happy and said.
He had said that when leaving home, parents, siblings and not thinking about their home at all, only thinking about me and myself and keeping an eye on the destination. I said, "Well, you are dealing with a cunning and cunning man."
He expressed his indignation. But so far she had mixed a lot, so she didn't mind. I asked do you know the meaning of love? What is love? He put a curious look on my face and said, love means love love and what?
Yes, you are right. But love is not done, it is done. Life sometimes brings man to such a crossroads that man is simply forced by the heart. But the lover never oppresses but endures oppression.
The lover does not insult anyone but endures humiliation. Love is that in which there is no greed, no deception, no deception, no betrayal. The lover is not cunning, he is not cunning.
The lover does not bargain, the lover knows how to respect. He never insults anyone. He said intermittently. Our friend also respects everyone and he loves me immensely.
As soon as I turned another page of my book, I took a bottle of water from his hand and poured several sips into his dry throat. You should have come to your parents' house and it would have been better if he had come to you with his mother Abu and asked for your relationship with your parents.
Have you ever bothered to ask him? How would he feel if his sister was taken away? And how will her parents feel? He did not take any jealousy in love? Putting everything on your head and freeing yourself? Even a lonely girl called so far away? How is this love Don't you see your stupidity in that? The color of her face was slowly changing and she was deep in thought.
In a short while, I listened to a whole speech about a true love and a deceitful lover. The lines of concern on his frowning face became clear. She poured half a bottle of water down her throat and looked out the window.
The trees and plants were running fast like the speed of time towards the opposite side of the train. He took a look at his mobile and saw the time and put the mobile in the bag.
After a moment of silence, he raised his head, turned his fingers in his hair, straightened his tangled hair, and fastened the braid with several knots of rubber. Oh! With a faint sound, he rolled his eyes at my face.
Her eyes widened and she wanted to know more. I looked down. The slander, a few questions that still stood in the opposite direction and awaited an answer?
These street thugs are not lovers, but body-seeking merchants who prey on underage, forgetful girls, and today you are one of them. Son! The society we live in is a society of men. Does it matter if the boy runs away?
That's enough for parents to say in response to people's questions. He left home in a rage. When the anger cools down and the senses come to rest, it will come back on its own. But the girl's escape destroys the honor of the whole family. Parents and the whole family are locked up.
No matter how many stages of development the world has achieved, the difference between a boy and a girl has existed since time immemorial and will continue to exist forever. The boy falls asleep on the sidewalk. He will wash the dishes in a hotel and eat two meals a day. He will make a living by working in a shop. But will the girl be able to do that?
In exchange for everything, his body will be traded and torn. Is America or London woman alone and insecure everywhere? Only a man's arm protects him. Even if he is her father? Are you brother Son or husband? Other than that, no one? Life goes on as a lover becomes a responsible husband and restores their trust in each other, yet the needle of suspicion on each other is always spinning.
A runaway woman spends all her youth trying to get her husband to recognize her honor and dignity, but the fear remains in her mind until the end of time.
She was lost in thought. The quest to understand and recognize the good and the bad ahead of time in the maze of life had left him quite puzzled. Which was clearly visible on his face. I didn't think it was appropriate to talk too much and kept quiet.
I started thinking in my heart, maybe something too much was said. I shouldn't have said that. After a while he looked at me as if he wanted to understand something else? Want to know more?
I continued. Your friend didn't even think for a moment what would happen to your mother when she found out you had run away from home.
Will she live and die with pride and remorse? Will she die while still alive with shame and remorse? She will not be able to eat for many days? Will her weight be halved in a few weeks to months?
What will happen to your father when people at the crossroads ask him, "Brother, did you find out anything about Daughter?" What will happen to your brothers when his friends talk to him? What will happen to your sisters when her friends ask her if she hasn't come back yet?
One thing to remember is that if a woman runs away and gets married, the whole life society will never be able to give her the respect that a woman gets from a marriage with the consent and happiness of her parents, siblings and family.
She is remembered in the society till the last part of her life as a 'runaway'. Her children and even her husband are ridiculed by relatives for life.
The train had stopped at the New Delhi railway station. I came to Delhi many days later. There was nothing like before.
Everything had changed and at the same time 'Shagufta' had also changed. He pulled out the PIN again, opened the slot of the mobile, broke the new SIM.
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