Pain In Her Hopeful Eyes (Part-1)

When I passed through the corner of the street, filled with desperation and hopelessness, my eyes fell on the old lady sitting near the wall. As usual, she was sitting on a small old rug, torn and worn out, with dust and dirt engulfing it from each corner. I saw her every day when I passed by there; her eyes were always fixed on the road. I wondered what was so attractive in the dusty, busy road that she kept staring at it with her shining yet mysteriously beautiful eyes, like a deep ocean making you drown in them. They appeared to me as the most beautiful eyes, but still, the beauty couldn't hide the untold story of pain that she had buried in her heart. I wanted to ask her about it but lacked the courage to do so. I started to approach her but lost my courage again. As I was about to turn back, she moved her gaze towards me with a gleam of happiness on her face that disappeared as soon as she looked at my face. 'Why did her smile fade away? Was it because of me?' I thought in my mind. I decided to ask her, but as I was about to ask, she started talking. For the very first time, I heard her voice, which was also filled with the same pain and longing. ''I'm sorry, my child, your shadow felt like someone else to me. May Almighty bless you, my dear,'' as she was giving me her prayers, she choked in between. I hurriedly ran to the nearby tea stall and asked for water. I gave her water, and my heart wrenched when I saw her moist wrinkled cheeks. They were glistening like pearls on white snow. She smiled at me, trying to stop her already flowing tears. I couldn't stop myself from crying. I didn't want her to cry more because of me, so I ran back as fast as I could.

Back at home, I closed the door and started crying aloud. My sister came running to me and patted me on my back, ''What happened? Why are you crying? Stop crying, Stop it please, you are brave, right! Stop or else I won't be able to control,'' she kept telling me while she embraced me tight in her arms. After a long time, when my cheeks dried and my tears stopped, my sister asked me, ''Why were you crying?'' ''I don't know what happened to me; I just couldn't control myself,'' I replied as the old lady's crying face flashed in front of my eyes. ''Is it because of your admission fee? Look at me; I've talked to Mr. Inayat about your condition; he asked me to send you tomorrow; don't worry he...'' she was telling me, but I interrupted her in the middle, ''He has already helped a lot; it would be a shame to ask for more.'' I insisted. But she comforted me and told me that he had called himself to ask for me. At last, she motivated me to visit Mr. Inayat, ignoring all of my excuses.

The next day, I passed through the street and stopped near the corner, where two spoiled teenagers were abusing the old lady, ''Why did you touch my ball with your filthy hands?'' said one of them. ''It just rolled here, my child. I tried to give it back to you,'' she replied with a calm tone. ''Shut your mouth, you oldie!'' another one spoke, and this time I couldn't resist myself. I went to them and shouted at them, ''Why are you talking to her like that? Don't you have any manners? Is this how you talk to elders?'' They didn't pay any heed and went away muttering something. ''They are mannerless kids spoiled by their parents; please don't take them seriously,'' I turned to the old lady. ''No, my child, don't say anything about their parents until you know the reality. You should never judge anyone; time turns things upside down. Remember this always,'' she said with her broken voice. These words seemed to pierce her painful memories of the past. ''I'm sorry; I won't do it again. Thanks for giving me such advice. Please pray for me; I need your prayers,'' I said. ''You are a very nice person. You are like my own child. I'll surely pray for you but don't lose hope. Nobody knows how much pain I've suffered, but I still don't give up. I know My Lord will never leave me alone. My child, it's hope which keeps me alive, waiting for my Ali,'' she said, as a lone tear escaped her eyes. ''Who's this Ali?'' I asked with curiosity. ''Oh, sorry dear! It just went with the flow. You were going somewhere; you may be late. I'll keep praying for you; I promise,'' saying this, she wiped her cheeks and gave me her beautiful smile. I stood up and left from there, but the name, 'Ali,' kept ringing in my ears, the way she said it, the way she longed for it, and the way she smiled at it...

I was lost in my thoughts when a man in his seventies came to me and said, ''Inayat sir has sent for you; you may enter the office now.'' I thanked him and knocked on the door. ''Come in please,'' came the voice of a man around 35 from inside. As I entered, I saw the man sitting on a wheelchair. ''Oh come sit here, how are you going with your studies?'' he gestured me to sit on the chair opposite to him. ''Your sister told me about the problem of your fees; why didn't you tell me? I have told you before; don't hesitate ever to ask for help. I feel pleasured to help such a bright student in following his dreams,'' he continued. After an hour of conversation, he gave me a cheque to pay my fees. I thanked him and stood still for a while. ''You want to ask something! Say it,'' he said, and I felt a bit nervous. ''No, actually its...nothing; I don't want to ask anything,'' I lied. ''Don't ever leave a chance for anything; you might end up regretting for it,'' he said looking towards me. ''Actually, I wanted to ask that why do you seem to be unhappy despite having everything, one can dream of. I'm sure you have struggled a lot to set up your business and now you are at the top. You also spend a lot on poor people, but still, you don't seem to be happy,'' I blurted out the question that had been occupying my mind ever since I met this person. He smiled and replied, ''Nobody ever asked me this! Anything people care about is my wealth, but no one ever noticed if I'm happy or not. You're right; I've struggled a lot to reach here, but my regret never lets me be happy.'' I was confused with this reply, as I had always seen him as a strong-willed and noble person. I was curious to know what made him regret, 'could it be his disability? Yeah! A disease can make even the strongest person break down,' I thought. ''I'm sorry sir, but I always thought of you as a strong person, one who won

't let any illness or weakness stop him. But after all, you are too a human,'' I apologized, to which he let out a weak smile, a smile that I felt familiar with. ''It's not the physical illness that makes me regretful; it's my heart that is sick. I've never shared my past with anyone, knowing that it will make me hateful in their eyes. But I can't bear this burden anymore; I want to share it even if it makes you feel hatred against me,'' saying this, tears started welling up from his eyes. I could feel his helplessness, could feel how regretful he was. But I was afraid too, afraid if the truth might be too harsh for him to spill out.

He took out a tissue from the side table, wiped his face, and drank the glass of water I offered to him. He sighed, ''You won't be glad to hear what I'm coming up with''...

Continued...