My friends... My story now is a devastating tale of how all my "Shaayads" turned into "Kaashes". A tale where the hand played by fate was so twisted that neither one of us can explain it, even if we try. A tale of "lahasil", depicting a constant theme in my life where it's just never the right time.
I liked her. She liked me back. I loved her. She loved me back. But I loved her too early, and she loved me too late. It's the right person but wrong timing. She was burdened by societal and moral pressures, and I couldn't push her hand owing to a lover's restraint. But what I hoped for then was that her love for me would be so great that she would fight for me. If ever there was anything worth fighting for her, if there was anything worth her standing her ground and not budging, I hoped it was me. I hoped that she would break the shackles of commitments she had made and choose me; her happiness.
And now that I have lost it all, all that I hoped for has turned into wishes that keep me awake at night. I wish she had chosen her happiness. I wish she had chosen her love. My hopes then shouldn't have turned into my wishes of the past now. It aches how I constantly think of how close I came to completing my puzzle where she was the missing piece.
But I refuse to taint her memory. Instead of lamenting what could've been, I will cherish my memories with her. I choose to pray for her happiness always and live in nostalgia myself. For there, I am the happiest. Life is just gloomy without her.
کب یاد میں تیرا ساتھ نہیں، کب ہاتھ میں تیرا ہاتھ نہیں
صد شُکر کہ اپنی راتوں میں اب ہِجر کی کوئی رات نہیں
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