It was bright hot sunny day. I was standing at the shrine thinking why I was there.  Whether, I really wanted to pay the homage to the saint lying there in the grave sleeping in eternal peace.  The Saint may have known of my real purpose of visiting His Shrine.  Thinking this I felt a little shame, but I was the slave of my heart.

 All at once I felt that there was a cool shadow fell upon the surrounding, in that hot afternoon, a cloud full of cold water, came in front of the sun…….. Yes she had come! She put her delicate feet in to the entrance of the Shrine. I didn’t know where all the heat of the weather disappeared. I felt that breeze coming from the sea has surrounded the Shrine. I could never understand that just appearance of a personality like her could change the entire surrounding.  Was it a real change or just my feeling, which I always felt in her presence? Was she real or just my imagination?

 Now she was moving slowly, I felt as she was floating on water, towards the grave of the Saint, knelt down and raised both of her beautiful hands; the wings of a dove touched each other.  She was quiet, staring at the grave, and I was staring at her. I saw, I really saw, her eyes were dampening, and those pearls white glittering pearls came out of the lake of her eyes sliding down her rose like cheeks. I staggered forward just wanted to collect those pearls on my lips or at least in my hands, but stopped just as there was an unseen barrier between me and her.  I waited unmoved for her to come out of her prays.

 I didn't' know what was she praying for, but I know she herself was the reward of prays.  She was before me, but too far from my reach. I had firmly decided that I will talk to her now and ask what was her desire that brought her to the Shrine? Whereas, she herself was my desire, for which I would prostrate for my entire life. She was heavenly beautiful.  She was herself a pray, why she was wasting her time in prays. I couldn't realize how long I was staring her spell bound.

 I was awakened when I saw her standing on her feet and moved back towards the exit of the Shrine I rushed to the door and stood there before she comes. I desperately wanted to talk to her. When she came near I stepped forward she abruptly stopped and looked at me, “what!" "Oh you again" She gave me a long slow look, as if she were deciding something, and then she allowed herself to blush, the color suffusing her cheeks. Her lips trembled very slightly. I stretched my hand towards her. She took the bowl of water from my hand and drank it. Thanks! "You always give me water whenever I come here, why?" She asked me as usual with the sweetest smile on her rose petal lips. I couldn't reply. My throat was choked. She turned and stepped down the stairs of the Shrine. I was standing there motionless, with my eyes fixed upon her. She disappeared just she stepped down the last step of the stairs. Or was it my illusion? I was standing there with frozen sight exact on the spot where I saw her disappeared.


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  • Thanks dara for all your appreciations and encouragements.

  • Main paihili leka, Mishaikh is the blogger of My EC. Keep going Mr. Mishaikh.

  • I remember reading this story in L.M. I was too young to see its beauty and feel its depth back then. However, now I feel how mesmerizing this one is. Full of emotions and beautifully written. I could see it all happening in front of my eyes. Like I was there at the shrine witnessing all of this happen, hidden from their sight. 

    An AMAZING piece of writing. I hope to write this good someday. 

    • Yes Warda baita. This happened to be the very first attempt of blogging, I posted it on the forum Livemocha. Your were in your early teenage. Remember, my another blog, Cafe. You wrote to me, you didn't understand it, and I said you are too young to understand it. You will understand when get older.

    • Wow! Time flies...  its been 8 years now.

      Yes, Pa. I remember "The cafe", and I used to read it every few years to see if I am mature enough to understand Papa's story. Haha. I used to measure my maturity with that story. Would love to read it again...  have you posted it here?

    • Yes it is here too. Let me know if you do not find it. I will send you the link.

  • Isly Mishaikh acha blogger. Thanks for sharing.

    • Thanks dara for all encouragement. I appreciate ypur support.

  • I can really understand why this piece of writing is worth keeping. As what Rosemary wrote here, it is full of emotions. You must have been really inspired when you wrote this blog, Mishaikh! Hats off! :)

    • Thanks a lot Robbie for encouragement.  Such moods occurs very seldom, not often.  You are right about the inspiration.

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