Moving On.

This was not supposed to happen, they were not supposed to meet. An angry young Pashtun with his ego problems was not supposed to fall for the Americanized version of a Pakistani Muhajir, hack life was not decided for love, not for him at least.
He was hard headed than why his gray orbs sudden soften for the brown ones. He had decided that he will marry the first girl that came in front of him to prove a point to his theoretically former tribal bride and in laws. But it took a highway route when he saw a certain, lost girl at the Jinnah Airport. A girl in white cotton floor length dress with a brown leather jacket with a pair of converse munching on a packet of lays masala, sitting on her own trolley, flipping her head here and there as her scarf moved with her without even for once being displaced from its original position.
Was he ready to marry a girl that he does not know let alone liked by first sight when he knew in his family approval comes from the elders where there is no choice left for them, the broods? He might be an introvert and an honor preserving chap but he was clear when it came to what he wants and needs. He never confused his feelings with his duties as the head of his family or as the impending head of the chief of his tribe, to be the next Emir of Gorgush.
Olasyar Khan, was in that state of mind but then why did his heart feel that pine? He was ready to make everything turn according to his desires, the Pashtun in him was not ready to back down and let others lead his life for him. Allah showed him the way, so he will move all the rocks and stones in his path even if he must pick them up by his bare hands.
As the tag on the bag read the name, he uttered the last words and left, "Zareen Wadi, be ready to be Zareen Khan."
Their fates were already amalgamated, they just had to find their way to each other.



The following book does not represent or attack a certain race or cast.

Spiritual #33 (4/20)