Whispers of Longing
Embracing the City’s Embrace as a Tragic Love Story
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My life was absorbed by the office routine in the busy commercial district of Karachi. My name is Imran – an employee, a low-rank officer with thousands of different papers and political intrigues to be involved in every day. But there was one person who cut across them all: Afshan- a determined manager whose charm set her apart.
Our dealings were brief but significant, we only exchanged polite words and professional courtesies. However, under this was always something — the disparity between us resulting from our different positions and ambitions for further development. Whereas she appreciated my sense of duty I could only respect her hard working ethics.
However, our destinies collided when we had to collaborate on a project that made us best friends. Since then, we have shared a desk while working on it; at this point, Afshan’s fascination with me began to kick in more aggressively than ever before. Although in the beginning I wasn’t much interested but realized that both of us love what they do thereby making friendships beyond just occupational assignments.
“Can you go through these reports please Imran?” She asked breaking into the background noise of the office with her look meeting mine which had warmth written all over it.
Yes, of course, Afshan. By this afternoon I will give them to you," I said and felt excited because of the idea of helping her.
Weeks turned into days and found me besotted with Afshan’s unwavering determination and a heart full of love that she extended to people who deserve it. In turn, Afshan seemed to find solace in my candor and humility even though she knew what it meant to survive in the ruthless world of corporate Karachi.
“But what are we going to do about you?” Afshan, I dared ask one evening as we remained at our desks staring across the city lights reflecting off her face so gently.
"We have come from different ends Imran. Our relationship can only be kept secret." She continues speaking, tears flowing down her cheeks.
However, our early romance was not devoid of difficulties. The office was embroiled in scandal leading to a wane in everything. Afshan rose higher up making decisions that affected everyone else including us according to where they would take the company.
“Amidst all this confusion, Imran, it is you that I have come back to,” confessed Afshan on one evening wherein there was desperation in her voice. “But I am scared that what we share is impossible.”
However, my life will be incomplete without you, my dear Afshan. I said that with a sorrow-conscious heart.
With heavy hearts, we parted ways, our love destined to remain unrequited in a city where ambition and duty reigned supreme. As I watched Afshan disappear into the chaos of Karachi's streets, I knew that our souls would forever be intertwined, even as our paths diverged into the shadows of our separate worlds.
As weeks went by, I was overwhelmed by the unspoken emotions we had for each other. Then one afternoon, she resigned which alarmed me very much. With her love letter in my hand and a broken heart, I ran to see her hoping against hope that maybe we could work things out.
But when I got to her empty apartment it was only a letter – a letter of regret and love from someone’s known penmanship. She had left me in Karachi; the place of our lives and love.
In her absence’ silence existence’ silence; this is the bitter truth about our relationship as well as ours being entangled with destiny’s way of making us lose what we value most in life. Even now, many years later, as I stood looking at the city lights with streams of tears flowing down my face I realized that Afshan would forever remain in my thoughts as a tragic memory etched into the heart of Karachi.
