A Beautiful Girl~ by Abdullah Masood, Final Year.

 Through tumultuous times a plenty
Through seas and oceans of despair
Rejoice heart because you are free
Rejoice mind for you are alone

She was beautiful. That’s all I remember now. A beautiful girl in a dismal world. Friendships often
begin in the strangest of places. We met somewhere in the in-between, a half real half fantasy.
Was it an illusion? I have difficulty recalling all of it. Was she real? Or was it the idea of her that
enthralled me? A perfection created out of the recesses of my mind, a perfection no mortal could
parallel. The amalgamation of my hopes and dreams.

But you couldn’t tell her that, could you? You believed she was just another one of
those people. Characters passing in the book of your life. Do you remember the first time you saw
her? She was in pink, garlands of white roses adorning her wrists. Her eyes were rubies glowing in
the darkness. She looked questioning, always questioning. As if she could peer into your soul. You
began talking to her. It was slow at first, a gradual buildup. Secrets were shared. Every moment
brought a smile. You became something else entirely. But it was all a house built on rotten
foundations. Do you remember her voice? It was musical, almost like the songs of the minnows.
Her laugh, now something forever denied to you, made you feel alive. The dark nights were spent
thinking about her, bright days lost to her radiance. And then at last she began confiding in you,
telling her hopes, her ideals. What she looked for in a mate. You thought it could stay in that
perpetual place of idyllic days. You thought things would never change. But you were a farce. An
empty shell of a man. Through all things, never could you surmise such affection blossoming deep
within. A strange hunger, gnawing at your insides, driving you mad with rage and hopelessness. A
desperate, desperate need linked to the very core of your very being, destroying you.


One day, he came. A man at her door, asking her to be his betrothed. She told you
of him, asked what she should do. Your wonderland came crashing down. Suddenly, it became all too real all too soon. Like a knife to your heart, you told her to follow her own. She said you were
wise. What spell was on you not to declare, vehemently, resolutely, loudly, clearly that you loved
her. That whoever it was on the door could not stand before your passion, as clear as day, as
strong as bricks and mortar, that she was the very lifeblood flowing in your veins. But you didn't
know, did you? You still don’t know. Perhaps in your heart, you knew you couldn't be the person at
the door. You weren’t good enough for her. You were never ready to take that step. To take that
plunge into the deep. To be the better man. And that ended the story. He took her away to his
castle and you looked on in the way. Could you stop him? Would you stop him?

You think you are strong. You destroyed all memories of her. Burnt her image. Annihilated every part of her that called to you. Like a butcher, you chopped
away the part of you that was rotten. The part that could not be regrown. As if it was all part of a
nightmare. There are times though, moments of weakness. Convoluted plans to take her as Paris
took Helen away. To show her the world. Write sonnets to her beauty. Conquer enemies and
empires for her. Build monuments in her name.Yet you are no Alexander nor Caesar. Virgil and
Dante abandon you. In the end, there is no hope. In the end, you are alone