Olive green eyes – short romantic story
The market place was abuzz with excitement. The streets were filled with hawkers selling sweetmeats, ornaments, abbayas, caps, clothes anything and everything that people could possibly lay their hands on after the evening Iftaar. It was the big day tomorrow,today it was the eve of Ramadan. Small lights red blue and green twinkled like a million stars in the night,the entire gully sparkled with the brilliance of a thousand diamonds. The heavenly aroma of murgh biryani and shahi phirni engulfed the houses by the streets.
My heart fluttered at this sight,it was the excitement of finally celebrating Eid at home after a long gap of 7 years.The war at Kargil was finally over, I was tired and exhausted with the shelling,cries of innocent children,the incessant bombings and the constant fear of dreading that the worst would happen tonight. It was all past I was finally home.
I was just two blocks away from home when something caught my eye.They were the most beautiful pair of eyes I had ever seen,the colour of ripe olives staring at me from behind her abbaya.They were following me for the last 5 minutes, I was intrigued, I had to know who this mysterious girl was. I walked away in the opposite direction I could feel her eyes on me, there was something about her eyes that I knew would keep me awake for many nights to come. It was almost as if she was trying to tell me something.
I decided to approach her the next day. The Azaan went off in the morning. My families worst days were over it was the day to rejoice and celebrate. I was coming back from the mosque after my prayers when I saw her in the marketplace again,she was dressed in a pink abbaya with small flowers embroidered all over,her eyes were laden with Kohl bright and sparkling. I was mesmerized by her looks. I was unaware but my feet were drawing me towards her, her eyes seemed brighter and bigger with every step that I took, she turned and our gaze met. I don’t even remember how many seconds minutes hours passed before I heard my sister call me for breakfast. “Bhai Jaan, Ami is looking for u”. She hesitated and took a few steps backwards, my hands were drawn towards her. It was like a mirage that I wanted to touch and hold on to forever. My fingers brushed her soft curly hair and I could feel her eyebrows cringe with fear and excitement all enveloped in one emotion. She gave a nervous glance in either direction and once again looked me in the eye. Her eyes spoke volumes. I managed a mumbled “Eid Mubarak”, she smiled, atleast her eyes did. “Aap ko Bhi”, was her quick reply. Once again I caught her gaze and wondered if her eyes were so beautiful, how beautiful would she be, I so wanted to slowly push her veil away,that clasped her small nose and rosy cheeks. I wanted to feel her bare cheeks to hold her face in my hands, I had fallen in love. Yes I had. I was just about to hold her hand when a shrill siren deafened me, my voice weakened, there were these sounds,growing louder by the minute, I started to grow weak in my knees my voice quivered I was growing faint so was she, like a cloud of mist she was just dissolving by the minute my hands wanted to reach out to her but I was too weak to move. “No,Allah help me”, I was shivering and there was chaos everywhere. I could once again hear sounds of people running, screaming, bombs exploding.
I woke up with a fright, my uniform was soaked in sweat and I found myself lying in the cantonment of the refugee camp. It was the 23rd day of the war, I was put in charge of guarding the prisoners of war at the cantonment. No one knew if these people were the alleged terrorists or just innocent victims of a blood laden politically maneuvered war. No one knew the fate of these people, they were just caught and brought at the military cantonment and their intentions were deemed to be dubious. My dream had lasted a little over 15 minutes. It was 6.00 a.m. and it was time for my daily rounds of head count of these so called innocent militants. It started off the routine way with the whistle being blown for all to stand in attention till I finished the count. I was going about the routine drill when the most amazing thing happened. Dressed in a dusty half torn pink abbaya was this pair of unforgettable olive green eyes with the kohl now smudged across the eyes half swept away with tears. My hands grew cold, she looked at me from behind the veil, her eyes were cold it was almost an accusing glare. There were a million things racing through my mind my feet had frozen. Quite oblivious of the smirks my colleagues were throwing at me, I could not help but just stand there and stare at her Olive Green Eyes. I looked deeper into them to find any signs of recognition but they remained cold and dry. “Hey Wasim, General Singh is addressing us.Common buddy!”, my thoughts were intruded into. “I’m coming”, was all that I could manage. I turned around to go back to the barracks wondering at what had just happened and I could once again sense her Eyes on my Back…Those Olive Green eyes!!
We are thankful to Ms. Vijeta Gawdi from Chicago, USA for contributing this story. And also read her another story Remembering 26/11.