Heer was sitting on a bedstead set at the roof. It was a clear night and moonlight was illuminating everything; the mountains, the trees, wrinkles of her face, the straight unsmiling lips and shadows hidden in her eyes. Her eyes were trained on her hands lying in her lap.
“So, I am old now.”
She took a deep breath to comprehend the years of her life gone.
“Five decades is a long time to live but it is not that long. Life passed by me and I passed by life but surely, I lived every second of it however it passed. But for few of them, I had friendship with it.”
She thought while pondering over the lines of labour in her hand.
“These hands were beautiful once. What an illusion the beauty is.”
She raised her head to see her grandchild running towards her.
“Granny! Today I will sleep with you.”
The child said settling himself in the place where her hands were before.
– – – – – – – – –
She was happy, jubilant in an extended family gathering. At seventeen, an engagement had been announced to Heer by a hunk of a man and any girl could be envious of her good luck.
He was a desirable man, very handsome and wanted to marry her, what more she could ask for. She fell in love then, at that moment with him.
It was sudden and, a shock for everybody present. When he came with a box full of traditional sweets and put a piece in her mouth in front of everyone announcing, ‘now she is engaged to me’. The claim loud and clear for all concerned and his boldness stole her heart.
He became her heart, the heart that hummed the rhythm of his name. She forgot everything else and at last, she became him.
she became the prime and live example of a famous poem by Bulley Shah,
Ranjha Ranjha Kardi Ni, Me’N Aapay Ranjha hoi
Sado ni Me’N no Dhido- Ranjha, Mano Heer Na Akho Koi
Uttering Ranjha Ranjha I have become Ranjha myself.
O all call me “Ranjha,” let no one call me Heer.
To be continued…
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P.s. Editor; the prologue has been republished with a few lines of chapter 1. This is the build up of a previous post “@asnlinguisticLOve”.