the windy afternoon

The Windy Afternoon

THE WINDY AFTERNOON



It was a foggy morning with everything blur in California, We at Berkeley C. A were even unable to see the university buildings.

Hey Sara, “wake up, wake up, wake up,” said Cindy my roommate,

Since it was our last paper of this semester and we soon would spend the holidays back at our home. Me at my paradise in Kashmir & Cindy would fly back to her home to NYC. I was so excited since after exams I had to go shopping with Cindy and my other friends to purchase gifts for my family and some friends back home. so I took a shower and wore that black leather jacket and tight blue jeans with a muffler and a red cap, all set for the examination. our exam began at 10:00 in the morning and ended at 12:00, the two-hour examination went good.

After the exam was over I went to meet my boyfriend Zain, basically, he was from Pakistan and his family lived in New York City for many years since I think he was just a baby. His dad was a doctor and mom a teacher at a primary school makes us believe that he belonged to a nice family. Zain had to go to NYC for celebrating Christmas and New year. He wanted my company but I wanted to go home and spend the New year eve with my family, so I went to zain to ask him for shopping, he said let’s have lunch first and then leave.



I thought he was right, so I went to the cafeteria with him, we had our lunch, as I looked for my wallet in my bag, it wasn’t there. I told Zain, I forgot my wallet in my room, he said it was okay, he paid the bill. but since I had to go shopping. I thought it was not a good idea to take zain’s credit card. So I said that I had an emergency to go back to my room, he agreed to wait for me, as I opened my room, in a jiffy first I went to the washroom, I usually keep my phone on the bed, when I came out.

I saw two missed calls from an unknown number, the number on true caller only identified the location as “Saint Marks street, New York City ” I was astonished by the fact that why someone was calling me from NYC, I decided not to call but then in a jiffy, I changed the frame of my mind and while taking my wallet in one hand and locking the door from another I redialed the number, I remember I was wearing my new air pods. Suddenly the bell rang and only in one go the phone got picked up



Hello is this Sara, ( a female voice said from the other side )

I said “yes ” with all the confidence, she said, I am yumna zain’s maternal cousin, I was immensely shocked because I didn’t know who she was, zain had cousins but he never introduced me to them, I was wondering who she was and why was she calling, instead of saying why are you calling me, I greeted by asking her.

How are you and how was everyone in the family, she just said all fine but not me, I said what happened she replied to my amazement, I am zain’s girlfriend, I literally gave a big laugh on her face because I thought it was a prank, she said in a strict tone please don’t laugh I am serious, so I kept quiet she kept on saying that zain and she were in a relationship since they were 15 years old, that meant they were teenage lovers, I told her what do you mean you still her girlfriend because he never talked about any teenage lover, he said that he was a shy boy, She said, and she said, that a male cousin of zain had told her about me, as Zain had uploaded a picture of mine captioning “miss you” in a story which he shared with his close friends included that cousin too.



I was 5 metre apart from zain and all my dreamy world was a reality, I just said ok bye and gave the phone to zain, telling him to talk to yumna, he was shocked and he started blushing and Shivering, he didn’t say anything neither to me nor to her, and I left instantly, Cindy brought back my phone, and yes he had confessed to Cindy that he had been cheating on me all these years, I never looked back at him, neither for an explanation nor a for sympathy but the flashbacks of that windy afternoon still hits hard on me.

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fatima wani

fatima wani

They call me sim and I believe writing is an art, a writer by profession and by passion, from the valley of blooms, Kashmir, always in search of truth

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