Sitting on the mountains and chatting with a closed friend and recalling the olden days always make us euphoric.
Whenever Manal and I sit together at nightfalls, we occasionally keep an ecstatic gaze at stars and the moon.
Because Manal is addicted to rain and nature and I am in love with solitude, thenceforth, we pass hours by sitting closed to each other in still.
The breezes on the mountains of Balochistan fill our hearts with blessings and our souls with unremitting affections. No matter we sit in still. And whenever the wind blows, we constantly get engrossed in our bygone memories and talk with each other.
It was a cloudy day. Sky was covered with clouds. We had our usual routine to sit on the mountains in silent. When rain started drizzling at any time or any situation then Manal kept speaking up everything that came in her mind.
She often says, “Whenever rain drizzles, it evokes long forgotten memories.” I retort her by nodding my head that it really does.
Actually we loved sitting next to each other with still. Because in silence there is no regrets and complaints. And secondly, the droplets wash all scourge and grievances and make one indulged in themselves with their memories.
Past is beautiful but, on the other hand, it is also painful. Remembering a moment of very past as once she adduced,
“If I get disappeared, so you should not be worried. Because I live within you. I am always near you.”
I didn’t get what she meant to convey, therefore, I had had hilarious jokes on her say.
But from that day on, she is unseen. And her disappearance submerged me in sorrows.
It is the same day. The rain has drizzled here again and made river rocks worn smooth by the water. But your absence is badly felt. This solitude is dangerous and has been engulfing all my smiles and peace.