In the lap of mighty mountains, among the plantations of bristlecone pine and flower beds of chiltern gentian, yellow pond lily, pyrenean buttercup, Fiordaliso, and the dominant white lily; sits a cute locality at eight thousand feet above sea level. It is called Ayubia.
It is famous for its weather, natural beauty, chairlifts, summer resorts and a cute little satellite village, Khanspur. The lush green valley is known for its unique scenery and picturesque peaks. This heavenly little town is home to a fresh breeze and cool temperatures. The aura of this valley makes the affair of being there mystic and jazzy. Twisting streets take sharp turns and steep dives just to return to the top again, just like the pirouette of a ballet dancer. A car moves there as if a hand is drawing a bow on strings of a violin. These pendulum rides act like swings that will have you bite your teeth if you’re there for the first time. The idea of roller coasters may have been conceived on such rides. Clouds roam around isles of pines kissing the tourists’ foreheads, the cool breeze offers them hugs and condensation freshens their faces in a gesture of grand reception. Waterfalls sing littoral songs to the melodious creeks running towards the river down there. Wildlife, especially monkeys, loom in leaps over the tall trees. Cannabis grows there naturally and purple male plants fill the air with marijuanic aroma. The ambiance is exotic and romantic especially for people clotting there from the hot areas of the country each summer. Sheer cold wind soothes the burning body pores of people coming from hot plains of lower delta cities.
A family from Multan, one ovenly city in the south, had arrived at their summer home in Khanspur. It was their second home. Hina was the eldest sister with two male siblings and a darling of the family. Her father was a rich landlord from the mango capital of the state.
Haroon’s family had rented a home across the street for the season. He was the only son at home. His father was an affluent cloth merchant from Lahore. They both were students in the same grade at different schools and in far away cities. This gorgeous Multani girl was traditional, shy and conventional. The Lahoriate handsome was ultra mod and trendy. His athletic figure, long hair, and fashionable style added to the beauty of these hills and this village. She was covered in a pink shawl and dark glasses most of the time. Nothing would hide her grace and she was prominently noticeable. She would stand out in a crowd and knew how to conceal and compose her beauty along with her wisdom. She would cause many accidents had she strolled on the footpath of these curved roads.
How could a loving heart like his stay aloof from her auspicious presence next door. She had no interest in his charms so she didn’t even notice. Being bold and outspoken was his style and proscription and dependence were her chains. He may be a daring soul but would remain within the brackets of decency. His own upbringing abstained him from indecorous advances towards her. His eyes were tracing for her glimpse all the time and each time she was around, his heart would skip a beat.
One sided love of an adolescent was in progress here. On the other hand she was veiled not only in her shawl but also in the curtains of modesty and taboos. Despite having nothing in common, their differences could not have prevented them from respecting each other’s way of thinking, beliefs and principles. Being in love does not mean rebellion. Not all detentions are through chains most are just enforced by upbringing and education.
Hearts are hearts, they live inside the castles of chests yet they peek through the aperture of eyes. In cardiac communication it is the cornea that transmits the message. Hearts speak via silence and sing through smiles. They breed affection and season it to develop into love. Emotions are petals of the flower of heart and passion is the corolla. In the world of hearts the sun rises from the west and sets in the east. They have romantic relations with the moon and receive messages through stars. When we begin to think with our hearts, the mind starts to beat. It is love that turns things upside down and creates alternate realities. If you want something so bad you’ve got to stop wanting yourself. When you desire something more than yourself you begin to revere it.
Dreams are a nursery of accomplishments and inaction is their graveyard. She became his dream and he aimed to fulfill it. Is it so?
The social wall of norms and taboos is not like a Berlin Wall or The Great Wall of China; it does not fall through diplomacy or parlays. It demands a war. It requires a leap forward in thinking. She would stick to her brought up and he would hang onto his heart. She would respect her confines and he would not cross the boundaries of social contract. Millions of hearts beat to the tunes of love but they get muted to the shackles of their surroundings. Not all societies allow individual freedom and not everyone is lucky enough to do what their hearts want.
The world has seen conclusions of love in many forms Taj Mahal is one way to do it and death of Romeo & Juliet is another. Many temples of love are built in minds secretly and are celebrated covertly never to emerge from the depth of unknown. There is always a love story around; sometimes it flies with wings and sometimes without them.
The summer will be over soon and so would their silent and distant relationship.
Golfer, Author, Entrepreneur, Blogger, Poet, Wanderer