Belly Dancer &
The US Marine
A Short Story
Copyright © 2016 Aditya Sawdekar
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As he saw the corpses of young US Marines shipped back home on a daily basis, he knew that something was wrong with the war he was fighting against an unknown enemy in a no-man’s land in Iraq. He could see his accomplished dream of becoming a US Marine falling on its head as he saw the futility of continuing the war under the name of reconstruction efforts. He knew he could be next, but that wasn’t he was worried about. All of 30, Chris was torn apart mentally of having to fight a war despite no logic to it.
Coupled with that, he also felt the need to experience the basic instinct of sex on a regular basis to turn his mind away from the mental torture of war. He was done with prostitutes and fellow lady marines with benefits, and could no longer satiate his sex hunger with just a physical body. He wanted to climb a step higher to a level of relationship based on understanding and meeting of minds than just bodies. Even a deep conversation with a member of the opposite sex was enough for him to unload his heavy and pent up mind.
Telling fellow colleagues – Lady Marines -- about the weariness and futility of the war was surely risked with charges of dereliction of duty and being termed as a traitor, thus, he couldn’t confide his deepest feelings with his friends in the army. His spurts of sexual tension coupled with mental incongruence with the war efforts made an otherwise intelligent and calm Chris edgy and whimsical.
He was seriously on the lookout for a beautiful body and mind. His search led him to go in the nearby town of Fallujah and get in touch with the local pimps or arrangers. His search led him to meet one Khalid a short and stout bearded guy in his late 30’s. He and many others like him, were approached daily US Marines and villagers alike to get hooked up for a night.
“Yes Sir. What can I do for you?” asked Khalid to Chris in broken English.
“I want a girl for a night or two who is polished and good natured”, replied Chris.
“Good natured? Do you think a good natured girl will come into this profession?”
“I mean someone who is matured and can understand the world and people”
“Oh, Sir, so you want a girl you can talk to while in bed, isn’t it?
“Yes Yes exactly that’s what I want can you arrange for one for tonight”
“To be very frank with you Sir, I have a girl who is worldly wise but with a caveat”
“What’s the caveat?”
“The caveat is very simple: She won’t have sex”
“What? What am I going to do with such a girl?”
“Sir, she’s just one of the very few girls intelligent enough to calm the distressed minds of war-hardened soldiers. I suggest you spend some time with her”
“But what am I supposed to do with her without sex”
“Sir, if you want only sex, there are many girls I can send across, but this girl I’m talking about is different. You should try spending some time with her.”
“Okay, go ahead”
“Sir, she is a belly dancer who has performed before the great Saddam Hussein”
“Oh really, that’s pretty interesting. But ‘No Sex’ right?”
“Right Sir. She’s a woman with principles”
“A woman with principles willing to spend time with some other guy? Interesting”
“No Sir. It is this stupid war that has caused people to fall on hard times, and specially the creative souls. With scarcely any money, these people are out of business. The only queries I get in these tough times are the ones that cannot be controlled – sex. But for you Sir, I know that you’re looking more than sex.”
“Okay go ahead. Fix the appointment”
The place to meet was a half-destroyed bungalow of Saddam Hussein, now deserted and desolate. Only a few bulb-lights were working, put on a few months ago when the US forces laid siege on the bungalow and made it their temporary accommodation. Now-a-days it was rarely used.
As Chris sat on the old sandal-wood sofa and admiring the huge hall and tall walls with a half-lit chandelier on the ceiling, he could hear the footsteps of a person from outside. Always ready to combat, he readied his gun only to be graced by a fully covered Iraqi girl, with an old CD-Player in hand and eyes being the only part visible.
As the lady greeted Chris with a nod and a Salaam, with a gaze that lasted only a second, as a shy girl would. As she began getting ready to dance, Chris could already experience a chill with the micro-second gaze of the desert girl. An unusual sensation went up his spine, as if to signal the meeting of the ‘perfect one’. But as with everything else, he was slow to get things to him.
As she uncovered herself, Chris was able to see one-by-one the beauty that was to unfold before his own eyes. First the headscarf coming off showed-off her silky dark brown hair fly freely against the desert wind that blew throughout the hall, then her hijab, exposing fully well her well rounded breasts – giving the impression that they were about to fall off, her wobbly belly – which had become supple and flexible due to years of practice, her thunder thighs in a long soaring knee cut up to her waist.
Here was Farah, a 28-year old girl, 5 ft. 7 in., well-built, not so thin, with years of practice of belly dancing and a steely determination which is the hallmark of every war-ravaged people.
More than her physicality, it was her shy and introverted eyes which rarely made contact with Chris that made the cut for Chris. As he continued getting enveloped in her brilliance – physical and soulful – he couldn’t help but falling in love with her every moment since she stepped in the hall.
She played the CD player and began dancing the sensuous number of belly dance, Chris was already in a trance and was transported to an altogether different world. All his mental agony regarding the war, his worries and tension being washed in the majestic radiance of her dance. He could sense a connect with Farah even before he had spoken to her.
When the dance finished and she began to move towards Chris to collect money, a certain kind of energy surged through him. He hadn’t seen or experienced anything like this before.
Farah demanded, “Five Hundred Dinars Sir”
Chris wanted to know more of her before the exchange of money could take place.
He said, “Please come Ma’am, sit next to me. Be comfortable. Don’t be afraid. I’ll surely pay you.”
“No Sir, give me the money, I shall leave”
“Surely, but not before you answer a few questions. Please sit down”
This assertiveness worked and she complied. She sat at a one feet distance from him, her gaze still down out of shyness or fear, adjusting her slit leg costume to cover her half-naked body at the bottom and her small top to cover her already bared breasts, she made herself a little more comfortable.
Chris asked her, “Please make yourself comfortable. Do you want some water?”
“No Sir. Tell me what you want to ask?”
“Okay, tell me first, what’s your name?”
“Farah, your dance was terrific. I loved it. And wanted more of it.”
“Thank You Sir”, she said, with her gaze still down at the carpet.
“Tell me something about yourself, have you always been into belly dancing?”
“Yes Sir, I’ve been practicing belly dancing since I was eight years old. My elder sister got me into his after seeing how well I copied her moves to perfection.”
“Okay, so your sister also does belly dancing?”
“Yes Sir, she used to. But she is no more. She was killed by the extremist militants two years ago claiming she was doing a thing forbidden by God – half-naked dancing in front of men.”
“Oh I’m so sorry. So what made you stick to belly dancing despite all this?”
“This is the only thing I know Sir. I’m very bad at cooking or any domestic work”
Chris blurted out with a sudden laughter, “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Though Chris thought at the first glance that she was the perfect one for her, he was skeptical of a desert woman would be open to spend her life with a white guy seven seas away, from an alien culture and religion.
To get the best of the situation of relieving his sexual tension, he spoke after a minute of silence,
”Do you just dance or do you also do something else for your clients?”
She sensed what he was up to.
“Sir, though I’m a belly dancer, I’m a Muslim girl with Arab blood running in my veins. I still am a virgin despite belly dancing in front of scores of men for the past twenty years. I have spurned the requests of many a people – domestic, foreign, common men and even royalty. This is the only thing I have with me – chastity.”
“Oh yes Khalid told me so. But what if I paid you one thousand five hundred dinars, will you consent?”
Slowly and firmly she said,”No Sir”.
He handed over the money to her and some more as a tip and as she got up and was about to leave. Suddenly, animality took the better of Chris and he grabbed her from behind.
She was too scared to move or do anything. Holding her right waist with her right hand, he slowly took his left hand upwards from her belly on to her breasts from inside the small top she was wearing; with the clear intent of having her give in to his demands. He could feel the pounding of her heart and the fear she was in.
Gathering her courage she spoke in a confident tone, “Sir, I have seen goodness and a spark in your eyes. Please don’t lose that by going ahead”.
Chris was taken aback with just that simple statement. In those moments, he knew he had done terribly wrong, beyond rectification and forgiveness. He could no longer stand up to himself. He felt guilty.
As he left her lose, this time with his gaze down out of guilt, she quickly covered herself back in her hijab, wore her head scarf, her footwear and unplugged the CD-player.
Chris thought not only had he lost his chance, but also lost the respect he had in his own eyes.
As providence would have it, as she walked towards the door for exit, Farah turned around gazing into his eyes, and said, “Let us surely meet another time. You can take my number from Khalid”. And she hurried away.
Chris couldn’t believe his ears, her invitation to meet had done more healing to his guilt-laden heart than any amount of self-talk or positive thinking. He was supercharged now, for the next meeting.
Very few places in Iraq were as quiet and serene as the banks of River Euphrates adjoining Fallujah. Both met the other day at the designated time in civilian clothes – Chris in jeans and half-sleeve shirt and Farah fully covered in a hijab but wearing a traditional salwar-kameez inside.
As they met, they couldn’t contain their excitement at being with one another. Hearts were pounding heavily on both sides – not only out of anxiety if this was the right match but also due to fear of someone else watching over them in an orthodox war-torn country. Before their eyes could meet each other, there were lot of giggles and side-gazes.
When they settled down after the usual pleasantries, they got to the main point:
Chris said with still a guilt-laden disposition, “Farah, firstly I would like to apologize for my behavior the other day with you. I’m so sorry for that”.
Farah replied with a smile, “It’s okay, Sir, many people presume belly dancers as prostitutes. It’s not just you.”
“But I’m sorry for whatever I did. And I mean it”
“Okay Sir, got it, I could sense in your eyes”
“ Are you a psychic Farah, you simply sense everything”, asked Chris amusingly
”Not psychic Sir, just a good judge of people“
“For heaven’s sake, stop calling me Sir. I’m Chris”
Farah said jokingly, “Ok Chris, that’s what I’ll call you”
“Oh, so what did you judge about me when you first saw me?”
“To be frank with you , I saw a soul which was troubled by circumstances and wanted an escape from the realities of life, even for a few seconds”
“You’re bang on” remarked a rather amused Chris
“I also sensed that you’re not one of those men who would force themselves on others – mentally, emotionally or physically”
Chris being a bit discomforted by the last word, kept quiet.
Farah continued, “Further, I could sense a confused mind urgently looking for a solution”
“Oh that’s so true”
Chris waited for a moment and then continued
“So Farah, what made you want to meet me again after the incident I had with you the other day”
With a deep breath Farah replied, “I could sense a potential life-partner in you”
Chris was taken aback with such a frank and candid confession from a woman raised in a desert peninsula. He sensed her interest in him the moment she asked him to meet again, but wasn’t sure the reason for it. Was it another transactional relationship of a dancer-customer for more money to be earned by her, did she want to take a step further and get physical with Chris or something more than that. But now he was immensely relieved and contented that she too had a thing for him just as he had for her.
“Oh that’s so great of you. Even I had a liking for you the moment I saw you”, revealed Chris
Farah blushed but couldn’t say another further
Chris continued, “So tell me what now? Where do you want to take this relationship? Should we court each other and then marry or just go ahead and get married?”
After a deep contemplation lasting a few seconds Farah said,”Though we like each other and want to get together, it’s not going to be easy.”
Chris retorted, “What’s not going to be easy? Please explain”
Farah started to explain, “See, first thing I’m an Arab Muslim girl, we are not supposed to meet a person of opposite sex before our marriage. Secondly, if anyone finds out that I’m with you they would certainly kill me, it’s called honour killing”
“What? What’s so honorable in killing? Why?”, angrily cried Chris
“Well the culture is so”
“This is culture?”
“Yes. Things for a girl can be pretty tough in Arabia”
“So what is the solution?”, asked Chris in desparation
“The only solution is for you to get converted to Islam. Only then will the society will accept us”, explained an ever composed Farah
“Jesus! Islam? Why?”
“Because a Muslim girl cannot marry a non-Muslim”
“What if we don’t marry the traditional way what if we just start living with each other and then register our marriage with the authorities”
“Live-in is a certain invitation to suicide in Iraq; even the government authorities want a certificate from the Ulemas or the clerics to register a marriage”
“Then let’s just fly off to the US. My term will be getting over in 6 months, and we shall fly back to the US. There we shall be free to live the way we want to”
“Six months is too long a time, I’m 28, already late for a woman my age to get married. My family will not let me be alone for long. They’ll surely marry me off to any guy they find right”
“So what is the solution”
“You have to convert to Islam. Period. That’s the only solution”
“If you can’t leave Islam to get married to me why shall I leave my Christian faith? It makes no sense”
“I can’t leave my faith. Apostasy is a sin in Islam; punishable by death”
“What? Whatever you do here you’re greeted with death. What kind of a culture is this?”
“Chris, we are not supposed to question tradition, just follow it to the tee if you want a frictionless life. Or a life if at all”
“See Farah, I’m thousands of miles away from my home. In an alien land. With a different culture. Fighting a war. My family will surely be hurt if I reject the faith I put in my Almighty God. I’m a pious Christian. I can never turn my back on Jesus Christ. Just as you wouldn’t on Allah. We have to find a middle ground. Or else it won’t work”
After a brief moments, Chris continued,
“Can I talk to your family. Maybe we can talk them out of this situation. Maybe they can understand. What do you say?”
“Forget it Chris. I don’t have parents. They were caught in the crossfire between Saddam Hussein’s forces and the freedom fighters in 1998, when I was but just a girl of 10 years old with a 3 year old sister. We was raised by my paternal uncle and aunt, who are also no more, as they succumbed to the injuries while on pilgrimage due bomb blast at Karbala by Sunni militants wanting to destroy Shia shrines. Who I call family are my cousins, consisting of three brothers – all sympathetic to the Islamic militants and a sister, who never wishes good for me”
“So how can you call them your family?”
“Because they took care of me when there was no one in this world for me”
“So what’s the way out?”
“Convert to Islam”, was the only explanation by Farah
“Then it’s not going to work out”
Both of them sat for a few minutes in utter silence, with their brains doing all the work. But they couldn’t seem to get anywhere.
“So Farah what is the way out?”
“There is no way out. We just have to practical, headstrong and get over this. Not everything we want in life do we get. This is also a phase, we’ll surely get over it sooner than later. We just have to go about our lives. That’s what will set us free from this mental and physical agony”
“If that is the only way out so be it”
They hugged each other very tightly with tears flowing down their eyes of sorrow of never having to meet one another again.
She left swiftly; with Chris at the banks of the river still thinking and trying to figure out what had happened. After a few hours, he too left for his military camp.
Lying on his bed in his military camp one night, he thinks of the situations that unfolded in the past few days regarding him and Farah. He though how naïve was he to think of a semi-literate Arab as a potential life-partner. He knew that he wasn’t acting intellectually but passionately. He smiled as he got lost in his thoughts fully knowing that he had been in similar situations and he would take at least a few days to a few months to get over this. Meanwhile, her thoughts were okay for him to bring him a sense of pleasure to get over the pain of separation.
When he narrated the incidents to his batch mate and fellow Marine Mark Jason, Mark couldn’t control his laughter,
“Bubs, that was one hilarious short-love story. Couldn’t you find better than a desert Bedouin girl. Haven’t you come across sassy chicks in America? You cannot be so immature”, remarked Mark
“No buds, there was something in her that attracted me to her. I don’t know what. Her eyes, her pleasing and quiet personality, her determination to fight against all odds, her grace and style in dancing, her maturity while dealing with rough people, pain in her eyes, the spark in her body and above all her simplicity and humility that would put anyone to shame”
“So you’ve experienced all that, now what. Your heart still longs for her?”
“No man. It’s over. I don’t think a Yankee like me is a match for her”, stated Chris
“Good. At least you realized that. I can understand it would be very difficult to let go of someone you’re head over heels with”
“Yeah. That’s the case. It’ll take time but I’ll soon get over it”, assured Chris
If Chris was struggling to get over his obsession, Farah was not far behind in her thoughts. She too was lost in a sea of thoughts, until she could contain no longer before confiding in her younger sister, Shazia – apple of her eye and the only person she could trust.
“Oh! So a belly dancer and a US Marine? Strange love story huh!!!”, Shazia teased Farah
“Don’t tease me Shaz. Though I want to forget him and I will, I don’t know why I can’t forget him. I don’t know what’s pulling me towards him. Despite knowing fully well that both our lives are doomed if we get together”
“Babes, calm down. This is usually the case when you’re totally in love with someone. But think of the positive side, you got out of it before you could get more involved. Right?”
“Oh yes. Intellectually thinking, that is the case. But you know, life seems incomplete when I’m not around him. You know what I’m saying?”
“Oh yes I can understand (sarcastically). You met him only twice and out of that once he groped your breasts from behind, to make out with you. This is all that men want. And you simply can’t get over him. God save this girl”
“Don’t you think I haven’t taken that into account? I sensed mental turmoil he was in and let go of that incident. But there were certain things that I haven’t found in any men I’ve come across”, explained Farah
“Oh really. Go ahead. Tell me what this jackass has which no one has?”
Looking out of the window far away, Farah said, “I could see a certain kind of child-like innocence and agile mind searching for higher truths. He had the demeanor of a man who is always on guard for the unprotected, irrespective of his profession. Not only is he courageous, but also very empathetic and understanding – a rare combination. He is soft spoken and cares for people, he rarely raises his voice and thinks more than he acts. I think he’s in the wrong profession but at the right place”
“At the right place? Aahhh…Seems Allah has sent him only for you. Right?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes. I think Allah has made him only for me”
“Okay if that’s the case, then go ahead with a holy union with him”, replied Shazia
“I’ve thought many times, but the hard reality stares starkly in my eyes. We belong to different cultures, different lands, different ethos, different upbringing, different societies, different temperament etc. Everything is different. I don’t know if things will go well down the line”
“But sis, love is blind. Just go with the flow. You’ll certainly find the right circumstances to make things happen”
“That’s true. Love is blind. But marriage is an eye opener. It’s better to get things straight from the beginning, or else it’s not difficult to go separate ways. On top of that he’s an American. No matter how good, he wouldn’t contain himself if he could lay his eyes on some other lass more understanding and beautiful than me. Unlike Arab or Asian men, Americans are more promiscuous and go with the flow. It’s very difficult for one to make them toe the line”, explained Farah
“Oh sissy, you’re so confused. On the one had you like him citing all the character traits which no other man has and on the other hand, you deride him as being weak for not being able to stick in times of challenging situations. Gimme a break. I don’t know where are you heading on your mental trip. You are a woman. You should be able to control a man. You should straighten him up; the same way you did when he grabbed your boob”
“Hmmm….what you’re saying is also true. I just need to keep quiet and leave everything to Allah. May be he shall guide us. If he’s the right person, I’ll get the hint or the hunch or else we go our separate ways”
“Yaah…don’t take too long to get your hunch or hint. Or else you’ll be married off by our elder cousins”
“Oh yes yes. That’s so true”, admitted Farah
As time moved on after about a month or so, both Chris and Farah were forlorn and lonely. They had lost all interest in their jobs or daily life. They both withdrew from society and spent time alone. This was affecting their performance, professionally.
When they could contain no longer, they knew it was time to get together sort things out.
But who will make the move. Who will take the initiative? Will Chris convert to Islam and will Farah get over the fear of her family objection and societal criticisms.
Farah being the strong in determination among the two did not take any stance. She was hoping, like any other girl that the guy should take the initiative. If that’s not the case, she felt Allah had some other plans for her. But despite her predicament, her heart still longed for Chris. But she kept quiet. Waiting for the hint and the hunch.
Needless to say, it was Chris who felt in deep thought of meeting her. But just meeting her wouldn’t amount to much if he wasn’t willing to convert to Islam – that was the only option he had, if he wanted to marry Farah or risk seeing her getting married to some other guy.
One night he confided to his friend Mark;
“Mark, I’ve decided. I’m converting to Islam”
“Holy Crap! What are you saying? Your father was a pastor, your family is a pious Christian family and you’re converting to Islam only for one simple desert Arab girl. Why can’t she convert to Christianity?”
“She’ll be killed if she does that”
“Oh yeah. What kind of culture is this where people are slaughtered for changing their religion”
“But that’s the only solution I have. Or else I lose her”
“Then take my advice. Lose her. You’ll be gaining much more than that. Just get married to an American babe once your duty is done and you won’t be troubled by her thoughts”
“How can I marry someone else knowing fully well that I love someone else? That would be doing injustice to all the three people – myself, the American girl and Farah”, reasoned Chris
“Oh injustice to Farah. Does she even think of you anymore. She’s more practical than you are. As it is girls are more grounded and realistic when it comes to relationships than men like us are, who generally go with the lowest hanging fruit. By the way did she even make an attempt to contact you? You’re totally out of her mind dude. Get over her. The earlier the better”
“Maybe she’s waiting for me to contact her. I think I just need to meet her only once. And if after that she doesn’t like me, then I’ll be happy that atleast I made an attempt, or else this regret will never let me live peacefully”
“Dude, the more you meet her the more you’ll fall for her. Get over her”, objected Mark
“I just cannot. Just cannot. No matter what, I need to meet her. I don’t care about the future, I just need to meet her”
“Has anyone been able to stop a mad raging bull and Romeo in love. Go ahead. Bang your head and come back”
“I surely will”
Chris gets in touch with Khalid to fix an appointment with Farah.
To his surprise, Farah agrees to meet him at the same place near the banks of the river Euphrates.
When they meet, the scene was just to be seen. An outburst of emotions and pent up passions couldn’t stop flowing. No sooner did they see each other than tears began flowing down their cheeks. What followed was tight hugs and kisses all over. After they gained composure, there was sudden bursts of laughter, as if understanding that their decisions to go separate ways fell squarely on its head.
“So finally we’re back where we left”, remarked Chris
“Literally”, laughingly said Farah
“I want to marry you Farah. I just can’t live without you”
“Same here. I’ve tried a lot to talk me out of this relationship but just couldn’t. Just couldn’t get my mind to come to a world without you”
“So what now?”, asked Chris interestedly
“Let’s get married, as you said”, stated Farah
“I was dying to hear these words. Yes, I’m willing to convert to Islam and accept your ways of life. But just cannot imagine my life without you”, said an ecstatic Chris
“Well if that’s the case, let’s speak to the local cleric I know. He’ll perform the ceremony of conversion to Islam and the same Imam will also solemnize our marriage”
“Yes that seems great. So you’ve done your homework Farah”
“Actually my younger sister, who is worldly wise, confided in a local Imam, who is also a trusted family cleric; and he assured us protection from radical elements”
“Sounds pretty good”, averred Chris
“I’ll book a date for our marriage after a week you can get converted just hours prior to that”, confidently Farah stated
“After our marriage is registered with the clerics, we can then register with the government so that it’ll be easy for me to get to the US with you”
“Oh yes. Well thought of”
“I’ll book 21st June as the date of wedding i.e. exactly 1 week from now at a small quarter just next to the public works department”
“That’s good Farah. You’re a planner and an initiator. I like that”
“Also one thing?”
“What?”, asked Chris
“After the booking of dates for marriage, the would-be bride is not supposed to meet the would-be groom, until the day of the wedding”
“What the f***?” remarked Chris in an agitated manner
“Yes this is the custom”
“I think we should leave now. Khalid will help you with the address”
“Bye sweety. Cannot live a day without you”
“Just one week darling and we’ll be set”, assured Farah
“See you soon. Goodbye”
All was set. All was done. The wait now for both Chris and Farah was for the Big Day of their lives. Though without much fanfare and pomp, this wedding was no less than the biggest event in their lives. In a war-torn Islamic country, weddings were like this – more substance than form, more solid than superfluous, more grounded than in the air.
Finally the D-day arrived.
Chris along with his colleague Mark in traditional Iraqi clothes reached to the small quarter as mentioned by Farah. As they reached there, they found the quarters locked. Upon asking the neighbors they came to know that the cleric had gone to Karbala to perform religious duties. Even Farah’s mobile phone was unreachable since the last 3 days.
Chris sensed something foul.. Did anyone know about this? Was she alive or dead? Did someone harm her? Was she safe? But hold on to his faith that everything will be fine
Before he could let his mind go on a mental trip, he decided to meet Khalid to know about Farah’s whereabouts.
As Chris saw Khalid at his usual place in the central square, he was down in the dumps and saddened. Upon inquiring about Farah he said with a heavy heart
“She’s gone. Farah is gone”
“What? She’s gone where? Where is she?”, asked Chris in desperation
“The local Imam was a traitor. He told everything to her distant family; who were against her marrying outside the fold”
“But I converted to Islam”, stated Chris
“That could not satisfy them”
“But where is she now? I need to meet her”
“No need meeting her. She has gone to Karbala 3 days ago with her family to get married”
“How’s that possible? I was supposed to marry her? That’s not fair”
“Nothing is fair in this lawless land. Maybe Allah wanted this to happen”
“No. I’ll at once go and set things straight. I’ll rescue her from this forced bondage”, a determined Chris stated
“Don’t even attempt to do that. Or else to guard the honor of the woman, her husband or brothers will certainly kill her”
“Why didn’t you tell me while all this was happening?”
K: Because her cousin swore me upon Allah that I shall not tell you of their plans or else they’ll also have me executed. And if you do the same they’ll not hesitate to kill you
“This is not done. I will nevertheless go”, claimed a devastated Chris
“Don’t go. Now she is married and settled in her own life. Your going there will complicate things and might get her life in trouble. If you don’t care for your life at least care for hers”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Go back to your duty and never come back. This is the only way to make sure that Farah is alive”
Not knowing what to do, Chris was torn apart. His world crashed in front of his own eyes. Tears welled up in his eyes at the way fate has played out in his life. He was not the one to give up, but he had no option. He wanted to see Farah alive.
He went back to the bank of the river Euphrates and cried for hours before coming to terms with reality. He thought to himself, ‘If not anything at least the fact that Farah is alive will bring hope and joy in my life’.
He had no option but to think this way. He never felt so lonely in all his life. He had for the first time found the perfect one and destiny played a spoilsport in his life.
So be it. Not all love stories have happy endings. Some are just not meant to be. He felt that the life of a person is more important than love.
Hi friends, I’m Aditya Sawdekar from Mumbai, India. I have experience and background in Arts, Science, Marketing, Banking, Business Planning and Teaching English.
I love writing short stories that can be read in an hour or two; as believe that the world needs more short doses of fiction (and non-fiction) due to busy lives and short attention span.
Hope you always do well.
Here’s my Facebook page:
And my e-mail:
Some other Books by me:
[+ Stuttering: How I Beat Stammering, Became a Public Speaker, Spoke Fluently With Girls, Hosted Events, Won Debates & Gave Excellent Lectures+]
The basic desires and primal instincts of a man can lead him to find love and humanity in the most unusual of places. And more than anything else than those caught in the throes of war, Chris and Farah are one such couple whose love transcends nationality, race, language and culture. But soon they find their very own â€˜culture and religionâ€™ coming in the way of their love life. Will they abandon each other and get on with life or does life have something special in store for them?