He tapped my shoulder gently and whispered in my ear, “you are the most beautiful woman Dara ever saw”, he blushed with an awkward smile.
‘Who is Dara’? , I asked
‘The last time I checked, that was my name’, he said and then it was my turn to blush.
That is what I used to dream. Dara …my obsession, just how many meanings it had, bright star, leader, dragon killer, the beautiful one, virgin, oak tree, the pearl of wisdom, generous, kind…the list was endless. Yet I didn’t become obsessed with it for these meanings, for me it meant one word; love! But knowing that it was understood in so many languages, it took deeper roots in my heart. You see, I could choose to be with you in so many times, across so many cultures, I smile to myself as this thought crosses my mind. Did I need to? It’s an achievement to live this one wonderful life fully, and with you...it counts for more than one.
Your name is not Dara. Thank God it isn’t. Dara is not just a name. It’s what you are to me. It is my abbreviation for two very subtle Arabic words of enormous beauty and enormous meaning…mehram & makhfi. However I like to think of them as Urdu words, it makes them less intimidating and more lovable, perhaps due to my instinctive affection for the language and my misfortune for not being able to pour out my heart in its subtle syllables for fear of not doing justice.
Let me come back to Dara...it’s how I name my relation with you, how shallow is ‘you are my boyfriend’ or ‘you are my fiancé’ or even ‘you are my beloved’? No. You are my Dara. Trust me love, there is no greater honor.
There you were, half lying on the grass, one sunny march day, your slanting eyes reflecting little lights, and throwing a smile every now and then at the least amusing comments, and I thought ‘just how many smiles... how many true heartfelt smiles does this boy have to spare?’ later I learnt that you had so many of them in you, you would die an early death with the shear pressure if you didn’t keep giving them, along with those lights in your eyes, however you were choosy about which way to direct the twinkle, weren’t you now dear?
You didn’t talk much. More importantly you didn’t think what you had to say was more important than what others had to say. You were so determined not to believe you were special. I remember you mentioned a particular song and praised it. Suddenly I knew I could not just like it ever again, I had to love it.
You didn’t live up to my expectations of Dara. I later discovered you were up to something much more mischievous. You were altering what to be expected of Dara, you were setting the standard.
And thus we met, my first lesson was not to just smile, but to give it and I gave the most radiant smile as you left, since you had made the very air infectious with an unamed joy.
‘Good bye’, said Dara
‘Bye’, I waved , one of us knowing that this one sunny afternoon in the grounds was going to change our lives, and the other only girlishly wondering whether there was a slight chance that the smiling guy with a twinkle in the eye, had found her cute.
May be...but I shrugged off the thought. Better safe than sorry, I told myself.
P.S: This is NOT written by me, although i wish it was. Maliha Shah has done a splendid job, i couldn't help posting it. people deserve to read this beautiful piece of writing!
