Forgiveness for others is freedom for you
“Dad, we don’t talk anymore…..”
Darkness engulfed his existence, the cold from the mattress under his body sent shrills into his spine, pinching the nerves of the lad. The pillow’s existence, a familiar sensation, entangled between his calves and its top peeping just above his shoulders felt like a devoted lover’s embrace, fleeing him from his sorrows with its steadily increasing warmth, into the depths of its fluffy cushion. His rugged throat managed a meek sigh, his eyes blurred by the stream of tears eloping his iris, the magnitude of the differing promises casting a shadow on his rationality as the force of the embrace sky-rocketed.
Pain! It translated into many forms, his wheezing cough panted for air as the breath inside him suffocated his exhaling lungs. The arms refused to follow the will as the embrace lost the conviction, dropping themselves beside the chest at the very edge of the wooden frame he lay on. The retina readjusted to capture the new scenery the boy faced, yet the lost will denied the body this blessing as the white walls surrounding turned into canvases, each one depicting a horror tale, his surroundings coming back to him in deadly colors.
The shreds of memory he once wished to refuse to accept like a mirage of reality, invaded his dilapidated mind, forcing him to let out a silent scream, kicking himself onto the floor. He ached. Couldn’t identify the part which wasn’t fatigued. Frantically, he extended both arms, perpendicular from his body, in hope of holding onto something to undo his fall! The right hand moved to and fro until the pointy cold metal structure pricked his index finger. He whimpered in the face of what was to come. The shiny object brought an uncustomary smirk back onto him followed by dejection as he realized his fantasy changed into a nightmare. He shrunk into himself, the way babies rest, boggling ways to fill the imaginary fantasy in the muscular organ resting on the left side of his chest. No avail. The world was confined to this room, Hamza, and the rest was darkness.
The obnoxious confined alternative reality was shattered with the most irritating bam as his phone beeped once again. When the phone beeps at 6 in the morning, it never promises good news! The metal tie pin which he had grasped escaped from his hand as his blood ran cold. The slight extension of his neck to peep at the name of the one who texted, instilled disbelief as he saw the photo of the person whose mere thought traumatized his whole body. Inspired with renewed hope, he sat on the wooden chair of his study, facing the frosted glass window for a better view of the deserted street in the killer cold of December. Endorphins played a pivotal hope as the mood changed from existential crisis to fantasizing countless possibilities as there was HOPE. Hope is a very dangerous weapon! But did he want hope?
For months, he had been auditioning for this particular moment, a well-structured, elaborated passage was one touch away in his mobile notes, intending to launch a virtual slap on the face of his nemesis, as he deserved this! Publicly hitting someone, humiliating him in front of the rest, sheer aggression to bully him……Hamza had no right! If these weren’t enough, the brute was pathetic enough to leave with an ever-lasting impact, glorified because of the blackmails and threats, an overzealous method to stamp and justify their misplaced aggression. In Urdu, there is a beautiful phrase to justify this behavior, “Ulta chor kotwal ko dante”. One may ask, what Ahmed was doing in return? How was he tackling these Mike Tyson like blows on him? He………let him continue with this toxicity. Caught in a state of shock and a desperate attempt to cling to the self-destructing bond that he titled as “friendship”, he placed his self-respect in a coffin to save their 2-year-old friendship.
Was this the same person whom he remembered? Standing at feet tall, the once innocent and kind-hearted fellow, lashed punches square of the jaw, the friend he knew, the person standing before him, was not even a shadow of his former self! This narrative, was not unfamiliar, or was it? Wasn’t this something he came across earlier that month too? But different personalities cannot have a familiar response to situations, right? Ahmed was well-aware of the driving force behind this onslaught, but a part inside him had given up. Despite having all the evidence needed to justify himself, the courage to fight fire with fire, he had just given up? He knew, that this is the end! The end, which he once dreamt of. The unfortunate end, he once feared!
But did he fear the detachment at this stage? This brawl provided the lad with a safe way out of the web of propaganda he had himself engulfed in. The parting of ways was celebrated like the attainment of freedom rather than the grief of losing a close one. They didn’t meet after that….glad as meeting with face masks is torturous. Did not talk…..after this, what did they have left to talk about? Was portrayed as a villain in front of Hamza’s friend….never mattered as Ahmed never was a hero in their eyes, and only weak and insecure people have the time and energy to discuss the flaws of another person. Humans, as a species, are not perfect! We exist with our own sets of strengths and flaws, with which we are accepted by those around us. While it is easy to criticize, blame, and fight over our imperfect selves, the REAL HUMAN, acknowledges his/her shortcomings and works in a way for their betterment.
The last four months for Ahmed were very peaceful! He had left the city for personal reasons, surrounded himself with people who cared for him with all their love and affection, and was excelling in life as a whole. Nearly six hours ago, Ahmed’s father inquired about the well-being of Hamza to which he was informed of the split between the friends. Now, this message arrived out of the blue! NO! HE DOES NOT DESERVE FORGIVENESS! HE NEEDS TO SUFFER! SUFFER IN A SIMILAR FASHION, SO HE REALIZES THE PAIN INFLICTED BY THAT IMPOSTER VERSION! A MERE “Sorry but I have realized my mistake”, IS NOT A VALID JUSTIFICATION OR REASONING FOR EXPLAINING THE BARBAROUS ACT!
Would he forgive Ahmed if the scenarios had been opposite? Would the fists be replied with love? Did pain return with affection and forgiveness? NO, he never had that heart or personality to bring such a change! So what should’ve been done? HAMZA NEEDED A REALITY CHECK OF HIS VICIOUS SELF AND HOW HE NOW PRESENTED HIMSELF AS A MONSTER INSTEAD OF A SOULFUL KIN LIKE BEFORE! In sheer anger and frustration, Ahmed typed a passage counting 1260 words, wishing ill for the person on the other end, providing a reflection that he needed to ponder over before having the guts to come here again! What was he thinking? His attitude, refusal to acknowledge Ahmed’s existence, ego, would’ve broken Ahmed?
The battle began! But like every major battle, the low ranked infantry was initially sent, withdrawing the cavalry, not revealing their cards. The subtle but less vicious attacks did not deter the opponent as both parties knew that the other was restraining the introduction of their heavy hitters. Suddenly, the battle took a twist as Hamza resorted to the ethos, resorting to “emotional persuasion”! Hamza exclaimed, “I have been supporting you in the past, remember this instance, this time, etc.?” Ahmed, who was done with these appeals as the “fond” memories had been removed by his hippocampus, a thing he learned in his Psychology classes. The things he was referring to, were deemed as imaginary rather than factual truth. “Remember the time I helped you ask a girl out?” asked Hamza. Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! Was that another attack as Ahmed broke up with her half a year before his initial fight with Hamza?
Enough with the constraints, time to bring up some real damage, as Ahmed summoned his knights to change the tide of the battle unfolding on the mini screen of his iPhone. This time, Ahmed started revealing his cards as he admitted that he knew of the plot cooking against him, interrogating Hamza of how he fell in that trap and never bothered questioning his subordinates? The only impressive part about Hamza at that moment was his truth! He did not bother concealing the facts he didn’t tell Ahmed, as if he even tried, Ahmed had all the proofs ready to slam on his face as he expected nothing but lies. Ahmed had reached the pinnacle of his patience and pressed hard against the cold morning, for the one last move that could end this all…..
“I, Ahmad Jahanzaib, forgive you…….”
Well, this was not because he felt sympathy, neither was he moved by the life-changing story of Hamza. IT WAS FOR HIS PEACE! HE GOT ALL THE TRUTHS HE EVER WANTED FROM THE PERSON WHO WRONGED HIM, AND HE MIGHT NEVER COME ACROSS HIM AGAIN, BUT IF HE DOES, HE WOULDN’T FLEE FROM HAMZA’S SIGHT AS HE NOW HAD THE COURAGE TO LOOK HIM IN THE EYES WITH NO SHAME OR GUILT! Moreover, he was grateful to Hamza for teaching him how to cope without a loved one, unanswered questions, enforced guilt, and a bully!
In life, people come and go, one day you are on top of the world, sometimes you even question your will to live, but what’s important is to realize that YOU ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT AND BEAUTIFUL THING OUT THERE! DO NOT LET THE ATTITUDES OF PEOPLE DETERMINE WHAT YOU DO, HOW YOU DO, AND WHEN DO YOU DO!
But appreciate the good in people around you, their importance, is highlighted when they aren’t there anymore!
