A fortnight ago, I was amusing myself with the sprightliness of ocean; the cool breeze wishing me happiness as it blew past me - the essence of queer thoughts was present in it, forcing my lusty life to take the decision. Of course, from now on, I was battling with the impatience as the rows of clouds were thrusting in the sky like an implacable mass of white cotton. I knew what I was doing!
I should call it the Peshawar chapter - the rays from the sun slanting through the translucent windows of the airport. Yes, I was at my destination - the land where all my feelings are centered, where the people relish themselves with uproarious history and the valiant Pakhtoons preserving their tradition and past. With my bag, I was at the hotel. At first the sight of the 'bazaars' suppressed my want to take the rest; however, I had to follow the tradition!
The black glasses that I wore that day have a good history but I don't want to reveal it now! In spite of being at the hotel and taking some rest, I went to observe a momentous journey. Wandering through the roads, I looked at the people - not pretentious but comfortable with life. The assiduous evening of the city had a placid reflection on me and the mellowness it adorned with was foretelling a new story. "My life isn't going well", the same old woozy thought.
She has always admired my mannerism and my diffident personality - rapt by the quizzical severity of a year! The faux behavior at the college and the desire to be obsessed coagulated into an urbane ultimatum until one day I was astonished by the sudden uneasiness of reply - longish in time - a new hope for me, and I was again forced to accept it.
But today, as a bourgeois according to reality, I was standing in front of my doyen of field - idiomatic in sense - my slacking attitude dwindling to non-existence at one time but the subsequent relief was unspeakable as the time with my lady-friend in the city of 'Peshawar' was something that I had never wished for!
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