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Short story: I am coming back to........

In the morning time when Begum Zulaikha came to the dining table, the servant brought a letter with the daily cup of tea. She tried to look at it through her crummy eyes but after staring at it for a while she admitted that without glasses she can’t see even a single word. So she put on her glasses. The letter was from her husband. When she saw his name, her bonny hands started trembling. After going through each line her face color faded away. The growing wrinkles on her forehead were indicating that an unpleasant truth has penetrated from the past and was beating the doors of present lives. Shrieking and waiting for the doors to get open. The servant asked her whether she is fine. She nodded her head and ordered the servant not to let her sons know about the letter.

A few days later, she was in the living room looking for the best Sherwani designer for her elder son whose marriage celebrations were going to be started in a few days. The doorbell rang; again her heartbeats accelerated. Unblinkingly she was looking at the door. The servant opened the door and found an average heightened man, who was around fifty plus. Servant inquired who he wanted to meet. The man maintaining a tough look on his face stepped forward, saw the lady in front of him, and didn’t dare to take an additional step from the anterooms. He was Begum Zulaikha's husband who left her ten years ago for a French woman. Constantly, after marriage, he was having affair with the French woman and when Zuliakha knew this, he moved with the French lady to Paris. Although soon after one year Zulaikha heard from a friend that her husband and the French lady had divorced but she never tried to find more about her husband in these ten years. Now he was in front of her just like an antique painting whose origin and the real story are only known to the painter: others can only guess the feelings and events behind colors. She observed that in all these ten years he has lost his weight and the fairness of his face. His hair has turned grey and he has lost his refulgence. She looked deep into his eyes to examine whether there is any regret for her but didn’t guess as he was always a mystery for her. Yet, no words were exchanged between them when Ahmed, Zulaikhas elder son appeared in the room. The volcano of hatred that was compressed in his heart suddenly burst out when he saw the man who betrayed his mother and dreams of two sons who dreamed to grow up looking at their father’s face. He was standing still on the anteroom and was intensely looking at the walls. The wall paint, the setting, and the dining table everything were changed. That home was now totally strange for him and he was to that home. He even didn’t find his face on the pictures that were hanging on the wall. The aroma of that home was changed. Even the aquarium that he brought from his very first salary was also not visible. It seems like his memories were made prohibited for that home.

He left Zulaikhas with two litter boys and now there were men both were like her left and right hand. The lady who he left powerless was now having the support of her two strong sons who even don’t like to take their father’s name as a surname. Ahmed in a powerful voice was, again and again, cursing her father and was asking Zulaikha to tell to him to leave the home. She was quiet; past and present both were fighting a battle in her mind. She fell to the ground and got faint. The letter that she took out during the disturbance was held by her even after becoming unconscious. Only the introductory line was visible through the half unfolded letter. It was written in bold letters that “I am coming back to handover the family bangles to the daughter-in-law of this family.”

Comments

manatita44 from london on March 16, 2021:

Salaam. Noble effort.

Paragraphs like these are too long and off-putting for some readers. They're also hard on the eye and do not flow well. Look at Linda Crampton's, Linda Lum, Bill Holland, Pamela Oglesby and some more.

Make effective use of capsules, video and photos and add a poll to enhance your work. A relevant title would help.

Welcome again and keep trying. Jazak Allahu Khayran!

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