I condemn hypocrisy in all its forms - މުނާފިގުކަމުގެ ހުރިހާ ސިފައެއް އަހަރެން ކުށްވެރިކުރަމެވެ

Tuesday, October 25, 2022

My attempt at describing "young love"

Young love tends to be based on nothing but feelings. The couple has not yet faced and overcome a challenge or difficulty together. They are passionate about each other. They think about each other constantly and want to spend all their time together.

Below is a short story I wrote some years ago, an attempt to describe young love:

+++

Here on Earth

The meeting is brief. Me, on my Dahon bike. He, on his mountain bike.

Our eyes meet. For the briefest of seconds. And then we pass. He is lost.

But the memory lingers. Inside the deep recesses of my mind. Something deep inside me rekindles a flicker of longing.

***

Next day. I am at the gym for my first aerobics class since coming back to Male' for holidays.

The class is over and I am readying to go back home. Guess who should step in right at that moment? Him!

What kind of connection did we establish?

He smiles. Comes towards me.

"Hi." He's still smiling. It's dazzling. The kind that keeps you hooked. The kind that makes it impossible to break contact. The kind that makes it impossible to end the magic.

"You came here today?" He asks. And I am happy he didn't ask me: "You're new here?"

"Yeah. Just thought I shouldn't waste three months."

"You living abroad?" He is precise. Of course, the thought must have crossed his mind that I may be studying abroad but I am happy he didn't get too specific.

"Yeah, I'm studying in Malaysia. This is a long holiday break."

"You're right. Shouldn't let ourselves get out of shape." He nods.

"I'm Sara," I extend my hand.

"I'm Ali," he accepts.

My friend Saju is standing by the doorway. Waiting for me. Amused.

"Coming," I call to her. I turn to Ali. "Gotta go. See you around."

"Take care," he says.

And I am touched. Only my closest friends said that.

***

I don't see him the next day. Neither the one after that. Or the one after that.

Three months pass. My holidays are over. I go back to Kuala Lumpur.

But the memory of him lingers on my mind. Like a magical moment that leaves a mark on your soul.

***

A year passes. I am back in Male' for holidays.

The next day. Call it coincidence. Call it chance. But I meet him again. On the road.

"Hi." He stops by me and gives me a broad smile. The dazzling one.

"When did you come back?"

I'm overwhelmed. A few seconds pass before I reply, "Just last evening."

"Let's go for a drink."

We go to Quench. Sit in a quiet corner.

Conversation comes easily. Another surprise for me. I'm not usually much of a talker. In fact, sometimes I have a hard time keeping a decent conversation going. But here I am. With Ali, the conversation comes so easily, smooth as water meandering down a tribute. I feel so at ease with him.

***

I find myself hanging out with Ali often. We go to each other's house, go for rides, sit on the seawall, or just plain hang out. I start feeling like I've known Ali all my life, although it's just a few weeks.

He's so frank with me, too. And I can see clearly that he looks forward to our meetings, to our hangings-out.

I find out of course that Ali is going steady with a childhood chum of his called Fazu.

At first I feel a pang of jealousy. Only to give way to disappointment.

But then I try to make myself content with the fact that I at least get to hang out with him, be with him, be with a guy so unique (at least in my view), and... so human. But, although we do not talk about it, I know that I am more than a friend to him. That he is more than a friend to me.

Deep down I have a feeling that he wants more from life. I sense that, behind that carefully crafted mask, lies a deep sadness -- of lands yet unexplored, of dreams yet unrealized and of fantasies yet unimagined.

But my holidays are abruptly over; so fast, the days pass relentlessly.

So, it is with a heavy heart, that I return to Kuala Lumpur. And the next year goes agonizingly slow.

***

Finally, the much-awaited holidays come. I am back in Male again.

And I decide to have a talk with him.

***

We are sitting on the seawall. A clear sky. A cool night. A translucent sea. I decide to plunge in straight ahead.

“We can’t go on pretending that nothing is happening between us,” I begin.

“I know,” Ali nods.

The problem with Ali is that behind that quiet, down-to-earth, and unpretentious boy lie years of conservative upbringing, a belief in the typical cycle of life, where you reach 25, raise a family, do your part of the duty to the world, and leave in peace.

But is that all that life has to offer? Doesn’t Ali deserve more happiness—adventure, fantasy, a spirited journey that would make his being whole, full. Bring inner piece to his unassuming self.

Maybe Ali is afraid to tread the unknown. Maybe he is more contented with the devil he knows than the friend he doesn’t know but could prove to mean more to him.

“We should be together,” I blurt out.

Ali looks at me. I see him in deep thought. “Let’s not talk about it. I don’t want to end this special thing we have.”

“Ali. Ali. Ali.” I shake my head.

I suddenly hold his face in my hands, look directly into his eyes.

“What has to happen, has to happen right here. Here on earth. I don’t know where you or I will be after that. What I know for sure is that we need each other in our lives.”

“I’ve already made the commitment,” Ali replies.

“But, Ali, look at you. You want more. You need more.” I say it all in one breath. How do I explain it all?

“There’s something to look forward to about someone when you are in love with her. And I see that in you, Ali. Everytime I meet you, I see in your eyes a longing to see me, to be with me…You might not say it, but it’s just there.”

I am talking fast. Way too fast. I am pouring out everything that had been slowly building up in my mind, waiting to break through. Like a flood about to break the riverbank.

“Ali, you may feel happy to be with Fazu, because you feel safe around her. But don’t you see, there’s no passion between you two. Anyone can see it. Everything’s so... routine around you and Fazu.”

Oops.

“Sorry, Ali,” I hold my tongue. “I didn’t mean to hurt you by saying that. What I mean is that…it’s just that…you have to be passionate about someone when you are in love…”

Ali doesn’t say anything. He keeps looking at the surf.

***

I am sitting in my room. Gloomy.

I am playing a song by the New Radicals.

Two years later, you’re still on my mind
So many questions, I need an answer
If I could ask God just one question:
Why aren’t you here with me?
Who holds the stars up in the sky?
Is true love once in a lifetime?

I bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow
I watched the stars crash in the sea
Someday we’ll know if love can move a mountain
Someday we’ll know why the sky is blue
One day I will go dancing on the moon
Someday you’ll know that I was The One for you.


I turn off the CD. The song is making me sad enough as it is.

***

Next evening. I am sitting on the seawall, off Henveiru park. It is after 9:00pm. A few joggers still tiring themselves out, while I am all comfy. At peace.

Or am I?

The night is clear. Stars, thousands of them, shine down, brilliant little white specks twinkling like prized jewels on a vast black velvet cloth.

I spot Ali coming on his bike. Good old Ali. He is not one of those guys who would try to impress his girl by ‘borrowing’ a mobike from a friend. Nothing fake to anything about him. True to the core. Could that be his problem?.

Ali parks his bike, near to a man who is angling several feet from me.

He comes and sits beside me. Looks up at the sky, lets out a deep breath, bracing himself for things to come.

A street light behind him casts a half shadow on his face that outlines his strong, chiseled face. I feel a thrill inside. He looks at me, deep, thoughtful.

“Where to begin…” He lets the sentence hang.

“You can’t just pretend that nothing is going on,” I say. That sentence again. I am not looking at him. My eyes are watching the white foam of the surf that breaks on the stubborn rocks. Here I am, waiting to get broken, too.

I am sure I am not the only one to go home heart-broken from Lonuziyaaraiy Kolhu. Like those jagged rocks that slowly crack and ultimately shatter into a thousand pieces, over time, with the persistent bombardment of the ever-present surf.

But my case seems to be different. And worse. Ali was not an ever-present factor in my life. He came out of the blue. Like a sudden unrelenting huge wave, swept me off my feet, took me by surprise, left me overwhelmed. And shattered like a thousand rocks that swept onto a deserted shore, left all alone.

I turn to look at him. If only there was something I could do to bring out the real person who is hiding behind that unsure shell that I now see as Ali. A crust that was hardened by years of peer pressure.

“You feel safe with her, don’t you?” I ask.

“Please, we’ve been through this.” He looks down. Is quiet.

“Being safe and secure is not everything,” I say softly. Let a moment of silence pass. Want to take this real slow this time.

“Love is when you are passionate about someone,” I say. “It’s a waste of time being with someone you are not passionate about.”

Another moment of silence. Only the soothing sound of the surf hissing.

All joggers have gone home. To their own loved ones, I guess.

I swallow, feeling glum. Here I am, close to the one I’ve ever really fallen in love with, yet as far away from him as I ever could be. If only there is a way to bridge the gulf that seems to be widening, even as I speak, drifting us farther and farther away from each other.

“It’s not everyday that we fall in love, Ali. Think about it. Let’s not give up on things when we have the chance. Let’s not make a decision we might regret for the rest of our lives. We belong to each other, Ali.”

I am close to tears, my voice trembling even as I speak.

Ali looks at me. He doesn’t speak. I look at him. At that moment, I see a sad face. Brows slanted, the corners of his mouth drooping, and I realise, with shock, that I am looking at someone who is as heartbroken as I, and who is trying as hard as me, not to cry.

I suddenly hug him, close to my heart. I can feel his suppressed sobs.

***

It is my departure night. Back to Kuala Lumpur. Back to the hustle and bustle of Malaysia. Not that I mind. It would help me to take my mind off of things. In fact, I can’t wait to leave. I want to escape from all the pressures of these past days.

That other night with Ali was the final blow.

It is almost a week now. He called only once. To tell me he will come to Hulhule to see me off.

He is late. We wait. Five minutes. Then ten minutes more. Then, just as we are about to embark, Ali comes rushing on his bike. With a ‘Hi’ he climbs aboard.

The ten-minute ride to Male International Airport is peaceful. I engage in small talk with my friend Saju and with my sisters. Ali is sitting on the other side.

I glance at him from time to time, and catch him looking at me. He smiles when I look at him. It only breaks my heart more. To see that smile now, a smile that I probably will not see for quite sometime.

I check in my luggage but come out of the departure terminal to stay with my family until the final call-in.

Ali draws me aside. “I’ve something to tell you.”

We go and sit on a bench at the children’s park, near the departure terminal.

Just the two of us.

“We broke up.”

I can’t believe what I am hearing. “When?”

“Day before yesterday.”

“How did she take it?” I can’t help feeling sad for Fazu, even though I want to be with Ali.

“Pretty well. We had a long talk. In fact, she told me she was trying to find a way to hint to me that our relationship was pretty monotonous and not getting anywhere.” Ali pauses for a moment. “But…”

“But…?” I ask. Anxious.

“Sara. I need a little time to work things out. Please understand that.”

“I understand.”

I am thrilled, beyond words. I wouldn’t mind waiting a whole lifetime for Ali. For love.

***

I am in Kuala Lumpur. My last year of study starts and I get loaded with bundles of assignments.

A week after I come back to Malaysia, Ali calls. We talk about good old times. It is wonderful.

Then about three weeks later, two days before my birthday, I get a card from Ali. And therein are the most wonderful words I’ll ever get from Ali:

Since that day I met you, that long time ago, I’ve known all along that you were a special person. That you made me feel different like no other did. You made me look forward to seeing you. You made me look forward to hanging out with you, doing little things, little things but that made a big difference in my life. Made me feel alive. And free. But I didn’t realise what I had been feeling all along. I was much confused and walking in the dark. You helped me walk into the light. You are the fire that rekindled my soul. Nothing in this world makes me happier now than to love you. Yours for ever, Ali.

Some people live their whole lives, and never fall in love. I did.

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