Love of Souls

Some love stories are written in letters, some in looks - but this one lives in silence.

This is the story of a boy who painted the soul of a girl he never truly saw  because he loved her not through her smile or beauty, but through the kindness she once gave him. Time passed. They grew up, took different paths. But her presence never left his world. She wore a niqab now. He went to a boarding school. But in the quiet corners of his room, and deeper corners of his heart, she remained faceless… yet unforgettable.

This is not a tale of romance.

It is a story of longing, of courage unsaid, and of a love that dares to exist… without a face.

Ahmad was offering his Asr prayer in the corner of the room, his head bowed in quiet devotion. His roommate, Asad, sat lazily on his bed, flipping through a novel. Just then, their friend Saad walked into the room and paused, his eyes falling on a strange painting above Ahmad's study desk. He stepped closer, eyebrows furrowed.

 "Who's that supposed to be?" he asked.

The painting showed a girl in a black scarf, folded neatly over her head. But where her face should have been - nothing. Just a smooth, empty space - no eyes, no smile, just a soft void where presence should have been.

Asad glanced up, then back to his book. "She's Ahmad's dream girl," he said with a smirk.

 Saad laughed. "A dream girl without a face? What is he in love with - her shadow?"

 Asad chuckled. "Maybe," he said, "because Sir has never seen her face. She wears a niqab."

Ahmad completed his final salam and sat back on his heels for a moment, as if letting the world quietly return to him. The room still carried Saad's laughter, the echo of the word "shadow" lingering in the air like a teasing ghost. Ahmad rose slowly, calm and collected, adjusted his sleeves, and walked to his desk where the faceless painting hung, quietly watching over him.

Saad, still curious, asked, "Does Asad speak the truth, or was he just joking about that dream girl?"

Ahmad glanced at the painting, then down at his notebook. His voice came soft and shy.

"No, that's not what it means… but yes, I did paint it. The reason, though, is something else - something beyond the structure of the painting."

Saad grinned playfully. "So, the face was too beautiful to paint? Or… something else?"

Ahmad took a deep breath, his eyes settling on the empty canvas.

"I never saw her face after childhood. And even if I had… it would still remain blank. Because I never loved her face," he said with a gentle smile, "nor her shadow. I fell in love with her polite words, the way she cared, the way she stood beside me when I couldn't stand for myself." His voice trembled slightly. "I'm deeply in love with her soul."

Asad leaned back, his smile fading into something more serious. "Then why does that love still sit in silence?" he said quietly. "Why a painting without a face? Why do you still stare at it after every prayer, like a prisoner of a memory? What's the point of loving a soul if you never tell it? Is it Love of souls or just a one-sided love?"

To Be Continued...

Some stories begin with a spark. His began with a silence he never dared to break.

 Not because the feelings were small - but because they were too sacred to speak.

 And some stories… they don't finish in one attempt.

 They need time, patience… and a heart that keeps choosing the same soul, even in absence.