Seven Years— A Thousand Tears

She waited for Hamza for seven years—seven years for him! He was her childhood love, the one she'd always admired in her heart but never said anything to. She was 9 when she fell for him. And now, she was 16. All these years, she didn't know where he was, what he looked like, or what subject was he studying since he left her neighborhood and her class. The day he left, she cried a lot... A lot. She never wanted him to leave, but she never told him. They weren't even friends. It was just her adoring him in her heart and marveling at him every day in her class.

Maybe because he was way too nice to her. Maybe because he would take the blame on himself—being the man and would save her from everyone.

Or Maybe he was just a kind person, like everyone else?

All these countless -maybes- couldn’t stop her heart from beating for him.

He left her neighborhood one day with his parents. And who can halt those who are leaving?

He Left.

He left her alone!

She waited. She would stare at his empty seat in the class—over and over with the hope that maybe...maybe he would come back and sit there... Maybe he would turn his neck and lock eyes with me for those wholesome five seconds.

She waited.

A Year Passed...

Another year passed...

.

.

7 Years Passed...

No sign of him. Now, the uncertainty of his life was slowly fading. Or perhaps, it was her love that had reached its threshold. But she never allowed anyone else to invade her heart. It was labeled with Hamza and him alone.

For her, those seven years felt like a stake—waking each day with the faint light of "maybe" he'd appear, in the classroom or on the street—only to realize he never did.

Today, she opened the Wedding Invitation Card. It was from his family. While opening it, she felt her hands tremble and her eyes blurred; An ache in her heart that was longing to see a name other than "Hamza" on the card. It was "Maria Weds Ali"—Thankfully.

It was his sister's wedding card. After all these seven years, her only chance to see him. Only chance to lock eyes with him again, after all these years. The only chance to answer her million wandering trivial thoughts.

How'd he look? Would he smile the same? Would he roll his sleeves the way he used to do?

Would he recognize me? Would he?

This question was making it hard for her to breathe. She wanted the answer. No matter what, she decided to find the answer in his eyes.

She got ready and her mother felt a strange nervousness and excitement in her that she never experienced before.

"Is my tikka—Headpiece ok?"

"Am I looking pretty?"

"Do I look good in heels?"

Her mom sensed that she had never asked these questions before—never, because she had never cared the way she looked. But what her mom didn't know was that this time, it was for "Hamza". The boy she'd been waiting for seven years with nothing but the hope of "Maybe"...

Mom, where are the siblings of the bride?

Her eyes and heart were secretly on a mission to find only one person—just him.

They'd be somewhere here. Oh, look! Isn't he Hamza?

Her mom motioned toward a handsome boy, very handsome, Indeed.

That moment was everything. She saw him for the first time in seven years. To everyone else, it was just a boy whom they hadn't seen since he left the neighborhood —but to her, it was so much more. A boy for whom she had waited every single lecture in school, every evening in the street, and every morning on the school bus—for seven years. She finally saw a grown-up man, with a wide chest wearing a kurta with rolled-up sleeves, and gelled hair, standing with an unmatched smile.

She nervously took the mini-mirror from her mom's purse and adjusted her hair.

He locked eyes with her. That moment... Her heart skipped a beat. She felt like her soul said goodbye to her body.

He was coming near... Near her table...

"Are you Laila?"

Her eyes relaxed the stream of tears that she was holding up from the moment she saw him.

"Hamza baita—Child, You've grown up big. You've become handsome"

Laila's mother's words brought a shy smile to his lips.

"Yes, Aunty" His eyes still locked with hers.

Laila's mother stood from the sofa and walked to the nearby group of aunties to find out about the spilling tea.

"7 years, Laila?"

What? Did he remember this detail? He clearly seemed to recognize Laila. His eyes said it all.

"7 years, and you never changed! Still the same, shy, cute little Laila from my class."

Laila forgot the ache of his wait that she endured for the last seven years all in just this fleeting moment.

"You haven't changed too. The rolled-up sleeves"

Both let out a soft chuckle.

Laila never knew that the moment she had waited for seven years would pass by so quickly.

A girl came near and stopped by Hamza.

"Oh, Laila! Meet my fiancée, Hira."

"Fiancée?"

.

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A/N:

"Laila" is inspired by a character from Hossain's Novel... I loved the name so I had to give it a shot!