HUMSAFAR

 

I don’t recall how I met her or what she looked like when my eyes caught a glimpse of her for the first time. What I do remember, however, is how magnetic her aura was and how drawn I was to her. Like many of life’s strange occurrences, she just happened to me, as if our destinies were oddly intertwined, like two strangers interlocking fingers, like opposite poles of a magnet fused into togetherness. Fate willed us to be together; the stars aligned, and before I knew it, she was a part of me, and she and I were one.

Not a day goes by without me thinking about her. Her round, wide-set, almond-shaped eyes with long lashes and a sheet of shiny golden hair falling on a narrow forehead. Her pale, snow-white complexion and a dainty nose set between her high-boned cheeks. The way she slowly bats her eyelids when I talk to her, her sudden, dimpled smiles. She talks to me when nobody else wants to and senses everything that is on my mind without me voicing my thoughts aloud. Her mesmerizing gaze as she stares fixedly at me. Her graceful walk, deeply resembling a dazzling swan, the way she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear with her long, artistic fingers, and a shy smile lighting up her face as she looks to the ground. Her cool voice, like a breath of fresh air at dawn, a sparkling water stream fed by ice glaciers, like mist on a winter morning. She is everything—as icy as the snow in a blizzard, as warm as a roaring fire at a fireplace, as vivacious as birds chirping at daybreak, yet as quiet as the stillness at night.

Oh, you must witness her disposition when she’s furious! She roars like a provoked lioness protecting her young ones, and hell hath no fury then. She’s loud claps of thunder striking terror in the hearts of young children, like sheets of zig-zag lightning attacking forests, igniting blazing fires and burning countless trees to the ground. She is feisty, fiery, and everything else. Eyes narrowed to slits, her otherwise plump lips pursed into a mean line, her face blackens with rage, like angry, ominous clouds gathering out of the blue on a sunny day.

And just like a raging hurricane disappearing into nothingness, her anger vanishes in a flash, and all is right again in my world. She would never hurt me, for she seeks me out as much as I need her, but seeing her upset unleashes turmoil within my mind and makes me uneasy, sending shivers down my spine. Her beaming face is the highlight of my day, and her existence is reason enough for mine. Her temper comes and goes in hot flashes, and I live for the moments when she is untroubled, for it signifies peace within my household.

On silent nights when we have nothing to say, we sit by the fireplace, her and I, holding hands, gazing into the distance, into the dark velvety expanse of navy and aubergine skies peppered with millions of twinkling stars.

She’s my everything; she is family. Yes, we have our disagreements, but she always comes back to me. She needs me. She tells me that she owes her existence to me; she’s a shell without me.

I don’t remember the last time I spoke to my kith and kin; they’d never understand me. My friends have stopped visiting me, and I don’t feel the need to meet them anymore. They keep saying I have cut them off, but they fail to see that they’re mistreating her. She despises them, for they outright ignore her, making her feel unseen and unheard. While I don’t have anyone else in the world, she has my back.

As I talk to you, she’s right here, by me. I feel her steady gaze on me. She wouldn’t like me to talk to you for long; she can get a little possessive at times. I already think I’ve spent a little too much time talking to you, and I can sense her wrath.

I now feel her warm breath behind me, at the back of my neck. She has her arms around me. All is eerily silent around us. She’s wrapping both her legs around my back now, digging into my sides. I feel her ragged, hoarse breathing as she ascends slowly, her long fingers gripping both my shoulders and her nails piercing my flesh. Her hair falls right on my face, covering it. She’s attached herself to me. She climbs up slowly, clawing her way up and settling on my back, while I stay still, frozen. I want to tell her I’m sorry, but that no longer matters, for it is her will that ultimately prevails.

As I look up, I see her sunken eyes now turned jet black, boring into mine. A monstrous grin covers her face, flashing hideous yellow teeth. Her face has lost its beautiful complexion and turned waxy. Her rosy skin is sagging. I’m terrified at her sudden change in appearance; I hate these times when she’s not herself. She always transforms into a shocking avatar when I don’t listen to her, taking on a persona that seems unreal. I want to scream, run away from her, I want to break these shackles and go back home. I want to be free.

But I can’t.

She’s on my mind—a little too much.

She has my back—a bit too firmly.

She won’t let me go — no matter how far I run away.

My soul is no longer mine. It’s hers now. She feeds on it — every night.