Coffe And Stories

 

Here, I publish articles, poetries, travelogues, novels, fiction, short stories, humorous stories, moral stories, and love stories in Urdu  & English. Story

Written by: Hafiz Naeem Ahmed Sial

   How the chilly evenings of winter make a person mad. When someone's love is embedded in a person's heart, that person becomes crazy.

   I was looking at him very carefully. She had just come from the office and was quite tired. After resting, she stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

   "Would you like some coffee?" she asked me while passing before me.

   "I am making it for myself; if you drink it, tell me." She asked me once again.

   I looked up at him, smiled, and nodded.

   "Ok," she replied, smiling and headed towards the kitchen. I watched her make coffee.

   "What thoughts are you lost in?" He said, waving the coffee mug in front of me.

   "Nothing." I snapped out of my thoughts and started drinking hot coffee. The cold was at its peak. It was snowing outside.

   "I am going to my mother's house the day after tomorrow; I am getting winter vacation from the office, isn't that why." She suddenly said to me. I stopped drinking coffee.

   "Yes, go," I said in a small voice. He had seen the moisture in my eyes.

   "Why? Aren't you happy?" he asked.

   "No, I'm happy," I said, placing the coffee mug on the table. She knew my helplessness in a moment.

   "Don't worry. I last went to my mother's house a long time ago. My mother's health is also wrong. She has called me many times and asked me to meet her. If I don't go now, she will be angry. I told Julia. She will take care of you on time, give you food on time, and yes, your medicines; I have brought them for two weeks, they will be enough for you till I come, promise me treatment on time. He said, holding my hand.

   "Yes, I promise," I said, hiding my tears. I wanted to spend these winter nights with her, but she was going to Mecca.

   Last year, I was afflicted with a strange disease. A lot of treatment was done, but to no avail; slowly, the disease progressed, and I remained bedridden. The doctors said that if I take care of myself and be careful, I can be healthy, so I was now taking complete rest, but the office people forgot that my Begum Mehwish had been replaced by me, due to which The house was being spent. She was an educated and intelligent woman. So the office people had no problem, and now Mehwish was working in my place.

   I used to stay in bed alone at home all day. Julia used to leave after doing the household chores. My Begum hired her for household chores. She was an old lady and belonged to the Christian religion. But Emandar was very faithful; she had no one, so she also needed work, so my Begum hired her.

   I was bored after spending long days at home. He could not get out of bed. He used to cry, seeing his helplessness. I resorted to paper and pen to pass my time. Who kept writing in the heart. In this way, a new story would be created. Mehwish would have been very happy if she had come from the office in the evening and read my writings. And often, she would say, "You have found a good hobby to pass the time." I would also smile happily. I was not fully recovered, and Mehwish left me for a few days. I also loved him very much. I was not able to spend proper time with him until he fell ill. And where can a person with illness get those joys of life?

   She was gone, leaving my home alone for the holidays, and I missed her. Julia would go about doing the housework as usual. I had accelerated my writing hobby. Julia would make coffee, and my written stories would swirl around me. Now, the only stories around me are stories.