“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” — Epicurus
“I’m getting off at the next stop,” he continued, rising slightly from his seat. “Please, don’t follow me. I’m not up for commitments or relationships. I can’t afford that.”
She sat frozen, watching him walk down the aisle and disappear into the crowd. In her hands, the photo trembled—she had crossed cities searching for someone who was never truly hers.
“Any other girl? I’ve been begging your online friends for answers, asking strangers about you. Nobody knew you! I went to the police, hospitals… everywhere—just to get a glimpse of you. Why did you do this to me? Don’t you understand? I love you!”
“No,” he said firmly, his voice quiet but cutting. “You don’t love me—you only love the perception of me in your mind. Rohit doesn’t exist. I’m Amit.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of his words pressed on him. “Please… work on your life. Focus on your goals. I’m just a person you talked to online. Nothing more.” His words strike like a blade.
...
She shook her head in disbelief. The man she thought she’d lost forever was suddenly here, beside her. Her voice broke. “It was hard to sleep at night without talking to you. I missed the way you laughed on our video calls, the way you comforted me whenever I was blue. Why didn’t you tell me before leaving?” “I already told you,” he said flatly. “I don’t share real information online.” Her heart ached at his indifference. “Am I just a stranger to you? Some random follower?” He sighed. “We never knew each other personally. You were… like any other girl I talked to. To kill time. To pass my boredom.” The words cut deeper than silence ever had. She stared at him, unable to comprehend.
...
He looked at her and the picture in her hand. A faint, guilty smile spread across his lips. “I’m Amit.” He pulled her into a sudden hug, his tone softening as he saw her tears. “I’m sorry. I lied to you. I don’t give my real information about myself online.”
Her breath caught. “Where have you been? I looked all over for you!” “I went back to my village,” he said, almost casually, “to help my family move. I saw your Facebook posts—the way you’ve been running from place to place looking for me. I should’ve told you something, I know. But… what made you go this far?”
....
After months of endless searching, her body tired and her spirit nearly broken, she boarded a bus back home. The cities blurred past her window—cities where she had hoped, prayed, and searched for him. She clutched his photo in her hand, her eyes heavy with defeat. Suddenly, a young man sat down beside her. She froze. His face—those familiar eyes, that sharp jawline—it resembled him. The man she had chased across cities, was looking into her eyes. “Rohit! is that really you?” Her voice trembled.
She rushed to all hospitals, every police station, city after city unfolded before her, every heartbeat a wave crashing against the silence he had left behind.
Every echo of footsteps, every distant laugh made her pulse jolt—only to hollow her out when it wasn’t him.
She was exhausted, yet, her desperation propelled her, step after step. Love—or was it madness?—refused to let her stop.
Did you know: People lose about 50% of their friendships every 7 years? But before you freak out about losing your bestie, you should also know this:
http://t.ted.com/29cEiGK
Part 2 The Surge
She had no clue where he was. His absence gnawed at her like a shadow she couldn’t outrun. She dialed every number she could think of—friends, colleagues, even distant acquaintances—but each call ended the same: with silence, with confusion, with no answers.
He had left no trail behind. Not a single clue. Not a single goodbye.
"Where could he go?" she cried into the night, her voice hoarse, her body trembling. Sleep abandoned her; food turned to ash on her tongue. Her days bled into nights, and her nights into endless searching.
She wandered through airports, railway stations and everywhere she could think of, scanning faces in the bustling crowds, hoping for a glimpse of him in the rush of strangers.
"Let your faith be greater than your fears." She had read the line while scrolling through his posts. Inspired, she got up, put on her best dress, and left the house. She took a cab to the park where he used to jog and waited for him until nightfall—but he never showed. Desperate and unable to hold back any longer, she went to his apartment, only to be told he had moved out a week ago. There were no replies, no calls back. He had vanished.
Do not speak negatively about yourself, even as a joke. Your body does not know the difference.
Words are energy and they cast spells, that is why it is called spelling.
Change the way you speak about yourself, and you can change your life.
"Do not forget that the armed forces are the servants of the people. You do not make national policy; it is we, the civilians, who decide these issues and it is your duty to carry out these tasks with which you are entrusted" Muhammad Ali Jinnah
اے کربلا! تجھ کو بھی وہ مہمان یاد ہیں؟
بے آب جو فرات کے پہلو میں سو گیا
― فاخرہ بتول
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