Adnan Farooqui

I lie here hopelessly, the dark silent depths of my room consume of whatever soul is left inside me. I can sense a melancholy stillness in the room as though a soul as been ripped apart from its body, leaving behind nothing but a sad, emotionless sculpture of clay. My mind as always, is preoccupied with the thoughts and memories of the time spent with her. I haven’t noticed that the moisture I feel is due to the tears rolling down, so silently that I too am unaware. Not wanting to open my eyes, fearing sighting the lights as dawn breaks. Behind closed eyes, I see your face, beautiful and angelic as ever. A smile plays across my lips as I remember that I am fighting for a lost cause. My amusement at the realization of my own defeat is a mystery to me, why I can’t seem to feel pain while watching the love of my life slipping through my own fingers? Maybe it’s because of the fact that my love has not turned me into a selfish and demanding creature, maybe my love wants me to out my self at pain and agony just to see someone happy, or maybe it is because of the fact that I have faced so much pain, so much has been taken away from me that I don’t seem to be bothered if the meaning of my life is snatched away from me. Fact is to feel pain for loss, you have to have something first, I never had the love I imagined and maybe that is the reason behind me feeing happy at my own defeat.

I try to open my eyes, I shield them as my eyes have difficulty in being accustomed to the light, I do not know how late it is in the morning, I wasn’t able to sleep the night before, I look out of the window and try to figure out. I notice the gentle splatter of rain drops on the roof above, creating such sounds as if an orchestra maestro showing off his skills and that explains that uncanny dark sky outside. I sigh heavily because rain wouldn’t help uplift my mood. Bad memories from the past are attached to it, every time something bad has happened, it has always rained, be it before or after, and today it brings the feeling that I might ultimately lose the love my life and the reason for me staying alive will altogether be gone.

My mind is still groggy, even though I didn’t sleep; I was sort of in an unconscious state. I turn sides as I reach out for my cell, I squint at the screen as my eyes try to find something that I’ve internally been wishing for, disappointed, I let it fall down next to me. I start looking around my room, hating every bit of it from the core of my heart; these walls bring nothing but solitude and perseverance, as if I am being punished for bad deeds of my past life. My eye catches something red stuck to my arm, I see half of my left hand red with clotted blood and I could see fresh blood glistening under those deep cuts, I try to recall when and why did I actually did this to myself, having no memory of it, I let my arm slide down. The gentle trickle of blood from the cuts sends cold shivers of pain up my spine, I, loving every ounce of pain that I could achieve, let it flow. I know that going through this whole lifetime without the one I love is going to be excruciating for me, the pain that I will have to endure will be nowhere as close to what I feel now, so I try to accustom myself to the sense of pain, pain that threatens to take away my life.


I lift up my head to get a glimpse; light breaks the silent depths of my room, half of it being blocked by my partially closed window. I raise a hand to wipe my face, still lost in deep thought I pick up my pen and start to write whatever that is circulating inside my mind and making half of me go insane. Words have always been a magnificent source of expression for me, I knew the only way I could beat the pain and despair of this moment was to write something that could portray my thoughts without leaving a trace of remorse inside me. I write my first few words, taking a moment to smile at the name written in my thin slant, almost a sense of being reborn and being thrown back in to the fiery depths of love. I think for a moment what to write, the whole morning I could not keep myself from admiring the flawless beauty that had captivated my mind, but the words do not tend to flow. I go over it in my head once more. I close my eyes and her face looms in front of me, the depth of her eyes deeper than any ocean, the spark in her eyes enough to make the brightest of thunder flashes shy, the glow of her angelic face not even comparable to the nights of the full moon, the curls of her lashes concealing the light from eyes like a total eclipse, her voice sweet and melodic, unlike any sound ever heard of, her laughter ever so rhythmic. The long hair, darker than any pitch black night, dance joyfully in the blowing air, giving a sense of twilight approaching in the darkest of hopeless nights.

It is just like one of those moments when I am completely lost in thought, having no sense of my own presence, a moment that never ends. Every passing second etches the memories deeper in my mind, making me prone to succumb to my own thoughts. It would not be an exaggeration to tell her that if I collected a flower for every time I thought of her, I could wander in my own garden forever.


I open my eyes and look at the piece of paper; damp blotches seemed to have materialized on it, smiling to myself I tear it apart knowing that I would not be able to write anyway. I wipe my tears, laughing silently at my own weak state. I hear the familiar tone of my cell; hear it as if I am standing at the end of a long tunnel, broken from my thoughts of her, I reach out for it, I grin as I read her name comes up on my screen, loving her ever so perfect timing, my head falls back to the pillow as I press it to my ear, and stop myself from saying, I Love You.

*Excerpt from an adapted screenplay by me.

Farooqu|