“Khoobsurat” “Eww, disgusting”, how can you like him?” said Sidra in a voluble tone “Shut up. His smile is just so hallucinating. It has this wow effect on me” replied Sadaf “But, Emraan Hashmi? I thought you were endowed with a better taste” retorted Sidra “Well, you are being unfair to him. He is noted for his exhilarating on screen performances. Moreover, a blockbuster music album is a certainty in every Emraan Hashmi movie. Besides, the stunt scenes in his movies are awe inspiring” responded Sadaf “Yeah, probably the only actor in the industry, who performs stunts with his lips. I love the songs of his movies. Though, only the audio versions” Sidra giggled “The video versions are for the matured ones. They might instigate certain sensations in your body” replied Sadaf “Sensations? As in- Sarsarahat, Sansanahat, gudgudahat, dagmagahat, farfarahat, thartharahat, kapkapahat, bharbharahat, dabdabahat, chatpatahat? Said Sidra in a freakish tone “Exactly” Sadaf joined her, as both of them burst into fits of laughter. They were engrossed in their own little world, oblivious to their surroundings. Totally unperturbed about “What people might think about them”. It is weird, how people forgo their happiness at the altars of social expediency. How, they avoid being themselves just for the sake for people, who least care whether they live or die. Sidra and Sadaf were Sisters. Correction-they were soul mates, who refused to leave each other, even for a split moment. They were inseparable, a soul entrapped in two mortals. They were a fraction of each other, nourishing each other with subsistence. They fought over petty issues, vehemently criticized each other, indulged in monumental sulks and cynical verbal altercations. However, regardless of their personal issues, they fought like cornered tigers, when confronted with a common menace. They didn’t need words to communicate with each other. They’d perfected the language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks, Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs-that can undermine any tale you’re telling. Both of them had opted to pursue their graduation in Mathematics. Even in the classroom, they refused to part with each other. Sidra and Saima were renowned in their college for their free spirited nature and vivacity. They excelled luminously in their academic pursuits, though they still managed to slip in the odd prank with their juniors. Though, there were others, who sympathized with them, offering them commiserations for their condition. Sidra and Sadaf were the darlings of their colony. They were reverential towards their elders, affectionate towards the youngsters and friendly with those in the same age group. They harbored all those dreams and aspirations which were common among girls of their ages. Referring to her marriage plans, Sidra once said “My Husband shall be the most attractive guy in the city. Well, I am one hell of a catch and I hope so is he”. “Someone like Shahrukh Khan”? questioned Sadaf. Yeah, like Shahrukh Khan, with a change”. “And what is that” enquired Sadaf. Instead of kkkk Kiran, he would stammer like Sssss….Sidra” chuckled Saima. Sadaf smiled, trying to camouflage her hopelessness. “Unlike others, the question in our case is not “When we’d get married”. The conundrum is “If we’d get married”-she said to herself, apprehensive, lest Sidra would sneak into her conscience and eavesdrop her thoughts. Diversity and variety is the quintessential law of nature. Needless to say, Sidra and Sadaf were no exception to this divine decree. Sadaf wanted to pursue her masters in Applied Mathematics, whereas Sidra wanted to pursue her career as a writer. Sadaf was an introvert, who’d spend hours in the garden, meticulously pondering over the wonders of nature. In stark contrast, Sidra was a free spirited soul, who’d like to party and enjoy with her friends. The tryst of destiny had united them together, in an inseparable bond, making them recipients of sympathetic hugs and empathetic condolences. Sidra and Sadaf were conjoined twins, joined at the head. Apparently, there was a medical term for it-Craniopagus. An extremely rare case of congenital abnormality, prevalent in one among a million babies in the world. Initially, their parents were parents were horrified at the prospects of their survival. Slowly and steadily, the girls managed to adapt themselves to the rigors of their misfortune. People wondered “How can God be so cruel, as to shade the lives of these girls with coat of adversity and affliction”. Alas, this was not a three years old God, this was the real God, his mask torn away by supernatural indifferences’. They were ridiculed and jeered, as if they were an UFO. “We are an UFO- Unique, Famous, Outrageous,” used to be Sidra’s favorite rejoinder, when confronted with bizarre questions. When hurt, the twins used to remember their late mother, who’d taught them a verse of the Quran to tackle such depressing situations- “But indeed, if any show patience and forgive that would truly be an exercise of courageous will and resolution in the conduct of affairs”. They’d travelled to United States, trying to convince doctors to separate them. However, the doctors had declined, on the pretext that such a surgery would involve a high degree of risk for both of them. After meeting world renowned neurosurgeon, Ben Carson, the twins decided to take the chance and consented for the operation. A large team of International specialists, consisting of 28 surgeons and more than 100 support staff assembled at the St. Thomas Hospital, London, to undertake, perhaps the most daring surgery of the decade. Saima and Sadaf held each other’s hand, as they bid farewell to everyone, brimmingly confidant of surviving the ominous predicament. Dispelling Saima’s apprehensions, Sadaf said “I know we can make it through the storms and the rain, to that beautiful rainbow that shall last forever”. I don’t know, whether the twins managed to survive, to see the light of the day. Let’s hope, that they did manage to cross over the line. Let’s hold each other’s hands and engross ourselves in the realms of an illusory world. The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because, it’s only the intangibles, ideas, concepts, beliefs and fantasies that last. Ah! I see a woman. She must be in her late forties. She is re-adjusting her spectacles, as the class follows her lecture with immaculate attention- “The Riemann’s zeta function is a function whose argument maybe any complex number other than 1”. A student stood up and said “But, Professor Sadaf,” Isn’t Riemann Hypothesis part of David Hilbert’s list of 23 unsolved problems in Mathematics?” Oh, Look at her. She’s our very own Sadaf. I see another woman in the college corridor, along with a kid. As the period gets over she enters the classroom and says- “Aapa, Sambhalo Apne bête Ko. Pareshaan Kar dia isne Mujhe”. Sadaf cuddled him in his arms- Khala Ammi Ko Pareshaan Kia tumne Rehaan? Inquired Sadaf “Sorry Mumma” replied Rehan “I Lu lu (I Love you) Khala Ammi” said Rehan Awww, Mera Bachcha- “I lu lu too” replied Saima Even if they didn’t make it, I salute their spirit for being able to see the lighter side of life, amidst the dark caverns of despondency and hopelessness. I adore them-for, they swam in the tides of dejection and despair with exquisite dexterity. They were Happy. They say-There is no cosmetic for beauty like Happiness. Sadaf and Saima were Khoobsurat, in every sense of the word. Arbaz Fahad A page reader
Posted on: Mon, 05 Jan 2015 15:03:59 +0000
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