*I Wish to See, No More* She must be beautiful, he thought. She must be. Her melodious voice rang in his ears, it stroked his heart into a calmed frenzy, pushing all his worries away. When she spoke, all he wanted to do was listen, he wished she would never stop speaking. Every word from her mouth was like honey-coated zephyr, dripped in a sweetness that melted even the coldest of hearts. With a voice like that, she certainly must be beautiful. When she entered the classroom, a gush of fragrance accompanied her. The air carried her scent to where he sat, on the first bench, and engulfed his senses. He inhaled deeply, hoping to erase his every thought and replace it with the memory of her scent. The faint tinge of her perfume in the air made him wish he could get closer to her, made him wish he could touch her, feel her, or hold her. Even the sharp odor of the sweaty days didn’t make him cringe, it just made her more real. With a fragrance so angelic, she certainly must be beautiful. She was a volunteer at the institution where he studied. She had nothing to gain from it, and yet she would come every single day without fail. Even the days when she was tired and battered; and he could hear her fatigue seeping through her voice. She did this not for the sake of charity or a sense of achievement, she did this because she really wanted to help them. She was just that kind. With a heart like that, she certainly must be beautiful. It was her last day as a volunteer. She was moving on to bigger and better things. She came to say goodbye to all her students. She asked if there was something, one last thing she could do for them. For this was the last time she was visiting this institute. He knew this day was inevitable, but he didn’t know it would come so soon. He wished it wouldn’t happen. He wished that for once he could actually know what is going on. He wished he could see the crestfallen looks on the faces of his classmates. He wished he could see her sorrowful, parting smile. He just wished he could see her. He desperately tried to think of something, something that would make his memory of her indelible. His classmates asked for her blessings, some asked if they could touch her feet, some asked if they could hug her, but his was the wish that astonished her the most. ‘Can I touch your face?’ She hesitated for a moment but kindly agreed. Her amiability made his heart thump out of happiness. Her skin was not as soft as he had imagined, her cheeks were rough, indented, marred with scars. He felt the drooping of her eyelids, the bridge of her nose, and the curve of her lips. He felt her smile as his face lit up with delight. ‘Thank you,’ he said. You changed my life, these words he left unsaid. He wished he could see, if only once, how beautiful she was. If only once, he could imprint her image in his memory, it would be his elixir for life. ‘What were those scars on her face?’ he asked his friend who could see. His friend replied in a sad tone, ‘Those were the marks from an acid attack. She used to be really beautiful, but those vicious bastards ruined her face.’ He no more wished for sight, for if sight ruined a beauty so flawless, he’d rather be blind. For he knew, for certain, she was beautiful. ~ Afreen
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 15:30:01 +0000
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