Thursday, 9 July 2015

Tabrez Sheikh

Do you love Subhangi?
Yes. I love her deeply. But first you need to understand who Subhangi is to understand the nature of my love for her.
It is not the traditional love that we feel in romantic relationships. It is the love that people feel with their kin. The love in which you feel if anyone shall harm your loved one, you could kill that person. That sort of love. I love Subhangi like that.

I am the older son of my parents. My father used to work as a peon in a railway office for half the day and rest of the day he would work at a construction site as a worker. I had no idea what he did for living till I was in class 10. I remember how, on a particular birthday, I harassed him for a particular brand of watch. He tried to make me understand that it was not possible for him to afford that watch, but I would not relent.
This is what my Abbu did to make me understand his point. He took me to work with him and he asked me to break the stones. I was like—what?
“Yes beta; this is what I do for a living. So why don’t you also do the same thing?” He told me.
The whole day I broke the stones. In the evening, I got 170 rupess, my first earnings. Now I calculated in my head… the watch I wanted cost 2700 rupees. For how many days would I have to work like this to earn that watch? Almost 16 days! I gave up the idea of the watch. Why do I tell you all these things? I tell this to say that my father is my hero.

I take a break from this social media campaign to make a cup of coffee for myself. But in my head the thoughts of Abbu and Roshni continue. Yes, I lied that Roshni is not her real name. It is her real name. I knew if I added that line, people would not try to sniff her out using any of my connections. 
***
I take a break from this social media campaign to make a cup of coffee for myself. But in my head the thoughts of Abbu and Roshni continue. Yes, I lied that Roshni is not her real name. It is her real name. I knew if I added that line, people would not try to sniff her out using any of my connections.
Abbu is going through a tough phase. Abbu’s kidneys are in bad shape. He has had his fistula operation last year. He goes for dialysis three times a week. Ammi calls me every alternate day and tells me about the pain Abbu has to go through. I can’t bear to hear all that. I love my Abbu very dearly. I feel torn day and night. This is the exact time I needed Roshni by my side—Roshni, my Roshni… but she didn’t have time for me any longer.
I have been in Bangalore for the past three years, out of which I have been engaged, at least as far as I am concerned, to Roshni for two years. I confess that when I first came to the city, I was all over the place and totally cool about casual relationships. But soon, I figured something out about myself. Just the way there are women who are totally wife material, there are men who are totally husband material, one woman’s man. I am one of them. I can find no happiness in a relation if I don’t know where it is going, and for my heart, Roshni is the only home. I love her as much as a person can love another person. But a few months before the breakup, she gave me the cold shoulder. She told me her family did not approve of our relationship because I am a Muslim.

No comments:

Post a Comment