Two men were sitting on a bench in a beautiful garden, far away from all the chaos, noises, gossip, and the loud echoes of laughter. They were talking about someone who had left this world — but not for one of them.
He always said, “I can feel her… she’s somewhere near me.”
But nobody believed him, because they kne — she wasn’t here. Not anymore.
“Ajj bhi woh tumhe yaad hai?” Saad asked softly.
“Nahi, yaad toh unhe kiya jata hai jinko tum kabhi bhule ho. Aur woh toh 𝘥𝘪𝘭 hai mera... aur koi apne dil ko bhool sakta hai kya?”
The other man replied, eyes lost in the half-hidden moon above, his voice distant, as if caught in thoughts.
For a minute, Saad was speechless.
"Lekin iss haadse ko chaar saal ho gaye hain,” he paused, then asked again, “Abhi bhi?”
The man glanced at Saad briefly, then back at the grass before him. A long silence passed. Then he whispered:
“Bilkul uss kitab ki tarah jo pehli baar khulti hai...
> Uss gulaab ki tarah jisne pehli baar duniya ko apni khushboo di ho...
> Baarish ke baad ki mitti jaise... jo boondon ko mehsoos karke jee uthi ho...”
“Mujhe khud nahi pata woh mere zehen se kyun nahi jaati. Unke khayalon ke alawa agar kisi aur ka khayal bhi aaye… toh mera dil ise gunah maanta hai. Aur main yeh gunah nahi karna chahta.”
Another moment passed.
“Bhai, main maanta hoon ke tumhe bohot gehri mohabbat hui thi… lekin ab toh woh yahan nahi hain na? Apne baare mein bhi kuch socho.”
The man looked up, placed a hand on his heart and said:
“Apne alfaazon pe gaur karo Saad...
Tumhara yeh kehna mere liye takleef de hai
Chahe woh yahan ho ya nahi...
"Woh yahaan” —he tapped his chest gently “yahaan hamesha rahengi.”
“Itni mohabbat karte ho?” Saad asked, voice filled with concern.
“Mohabbat nahi… 𝘉𝘦-𝘓𝘰𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘢𝘵 hai mujhe unse.”
His voice cracked slightly — a mix of longing, love, and pain.
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