Broken Wings, Hidden Claws

Hyderabad

Ashar Aarez

Life- there is so much more to it than it seems. There is happiness, but when you don’t know sadness, happiness doesn’t matter. The same goes with victory and defeat, light and darkness, birth and death, love and hate. But are these words opposite of each other or a part of each other? Is darkness just a part of light or is the absence of light called darkness? Life is so damn confusing when you try to look into everything that passes. But what when you discover that everything life gives you is not for you, or what, when some things which are broken just at the slightest touch? Then what?

That is exactly when this story starts. When all I knew was how to use wings, when all I wanted was to fly so high that not even the thunder dropping from the heavens could bring me down. And that was the time I realized that the thing which was the most important to me was the one I had abandoned.

So, let me start this story from the time I met this strange girl, outside the gates of my college, National School of Business Management. But before that let me tell you who I am.

That day, I had grabbed a sandwich from the kitchen. Luckily, mom had already left or she never would have let me leave without having breakfast. She had been quite busy since last month. My twenty first birthday was approaching and mom left no stone unturned to make it the most fabulous party of the year. She wanted it to hit the front-page news. Celebs and VIPs were invited and why not, it was not only the birthday of the son of the most powerful business tycoon in the city, Fatiha Aarez, but also the so called swayam-vadhu of her so-called son.

Now, there was this ancient tradition where there were functions held for the princesses to choose a groom and princes and kings from far off kingdoms were invited to be chosen from. Whoever the princess chooses, she marries. However, in my case, I was supposed to meet the spoiled brats of celebs and VIPs and choose one and get engaged, right then at the party. This was the trending news these days and who didn’t want their girls to be ‘my’ prospective wife?

All these thoughts were flooding through my mind. I was driving the car, my eyes on the road and mind somewhere in the seventh sky. And before I could even understand what the hell was happening, I crashed my car into this lady who was wobbling in the broad daylight in front of the college gates.

I was now back to my senses. It was pretty bad but luckily I was late and almost everyone was inside the classes except a few onlookers. The watchmen ran to us, to check on the girl. They called upon the paramedics.

“I am fine,” the girl said quietly. It was a deep cut but she got up and sat straight as if habitual of such wounds.

“You need a doctor,” I said, looking at the harsh wound, my imbecility gave her.

“I just need to get to the class,” the girl looked at the watchmen. Both of them surprisingly nodded. She looked around at the people and they all left, as if nothing had happened.

And then she looked at me. Her eyes were grey, an intimidating kind of grey. But to be honest, I wasn’t intimidated. I was intrigued. My eyes scanned her wound again.

“You need to see a doctor,” I said, adamant on taking her. She frowned at me and then agreed.