Six Years by Prof Zak
The reflection of his visage faded away in the gallows of the dark night even as they reluctantly separated hands. The gyration of their fingertips connecting sent an electric pulse to his cordial nerve - he knew this was the last time they would be in each other's presence. As he walked back to the car, his head stooped low, tears rolled up at the helm of his lashes, his lips quivering by the harsh reality of this unscheduled farewell, he struggled to haul his limp skeleton into the seat of the car, his soul crushed by the weight of this sinister urchin of an experience. It's hard to love someone, harder still it is to let someone you love go.
An unrelenting smile broke the demure strain in his forehead as his mind drifted towards the pleasurable times they had spent together. The movies they had enjoyed watching together, the meals they had shared. The malls they had been to, the continents they had explored. He felt a nervous tickle in his belly as he fondly recalled the night they had been to watch a production of Shakespeare's "The Twelfth Night" performed by the British Royal Theater Group, and how exciting it had been for them to explore the female of the species hombre to hombre. He felt the sea breeze run through his hair as he recalled the Thursday night soirees to the Creek where they had often spent many a night gorging out on phantasmal shawarmas and leaned against the ledge to peacefully observe the ocean yonder, the glow from the Ferris wheel in an amusement park at the backdrop. And how could he possibly forget the unique biryani platter at the Sanman hotel in Al-Ghusais, a place they oft frequented as a means of recreation; all the while the personality of his lifeline, reverberating with the soul and charisma that was his signature.
By now, small tears had started to roll down his cheekbones marching down to his chin in some kind of strangely disciplined order one after the other, as he remembered the wit, the spontaneity, the fervor, and the enigma which were all so evident in this person he couldn't fathom being separated from. By the time he got home, his affectionate weeping had converted into full blown wailing as he tried to organize all the wonderful memories associated with this 38 year affair - the times, the moments, the places, the occasions, the reasons, the differences, the jokes, the similarities, the anger, the joy, the proximity, the absurdity, the togetherness, the distance, the fears, the tears, the highs, and the lows; a complete and meaningful life spent together. He knew it was his company that would be missed the most, his sheer presence that signified a sense of decadence and order. An invisible assuredness that all was taken care of, and if it was not there was no need to panic as he never let the evil clutches of uncertainty do others any harm.
He hoped against hope and prayed against prayer wishing that this were all an ugly nightmare, but alas this separation was a naked reality. It was a brazen and daunting persistence that this was indeed happening, that they actually were going their separate ways forever. A journey so intimidating, that ones who undertake it seldom return. One stroke of misfortune had brought this sublime acquaintance to a painful and abrupt end. Aug 10, 2015 - this day around six years ago, a gaping tragedy took away the great saint of a father that Mr. Ahsan Khalid was. He was my rock, my brother, and my best friend, my confidant, at times as caring as a mother, at times as jovial as a sibling. He was my perennial force. The Fred to my Wilma, the Teresa to my City of Joy, the kindle in my lamp, the swag in my gait, the curd to my whey, the yolk to my egg, the beat in my heart and the reason life seamlessly made it thus far. Suffice to say, these have been the hardest six years of my life.
-This is copyright of Prof Zak