The Sixteenth Day

It's already been 45 minutes.
Tariq thought, looking at his watch impatiently. Why would she be late today when she was always the earlier on their dates. Especially on this day, their day, the day that promised so much hope for them. May be she is stuck in a jam or. . . or. . . . He searched for an answer to soothe his restless mind but his attempt turned out to be futile.
Tariq was waiting beside a bookstore where they agreed to rendezvous. He was wearing his favorite chocolate colored shirt and black trousers. His wet hair and shaved face had the faint remain of the smugness on his face. With a red rose in his hand, his tall and handsome figure was attracting bemused glances thrown at him by the people passing by. Tariq began feeling foolish. People's narrow glances felt to him like they all knew his secret. That he tried to elope with a girl but the girl sidestepped. Not before or after, but just on the day, deliberately intending to make him look like a fool, in front of all this people.
No, no, no. . . . . . what am I thinking? Zarrin can't do this, not to me. Tariq forced his train of thought to a stop. He watched the bookstore. It was deserted at this busy hour of the day. They were supposed meet in front of this bookstore to finally start their life. After all those persuasion and fight with their minds they finally decided to go against all odds, to marry. And the selection of the meeting place was obvious, this book store, where they first met. An oblivious smile crossed his face thinking of that day two years ago when he first saw Zarrin in the store. She was holding a book in her hand. An amused expression was all over her face, like she was laughing at something from the book she found amusing while skimming through. She looked so absorbed, so serene in that white dress at that moment that Tariq couldn't move his eyes off that direction. He instantly fell for her. . . . well, he didn't know what it was at first. The world around him somehow dissolved itself into a void, a void where his whole being was directed to one particular direction with indomitable force, to the only other entity present there, the girl.
A sudden whizzing sound of a car hauled him back into reality. He looked at his both sides. Still no sign of her. Longest 45 minutes of my life. He said to himself thinking of how long he had been standing. Suddenly his gaze fixed at a man across the road. The man was wearing a grey coat and matched trousers. With a black hat and a black pipe dangling from his mouth . Tariq guessed his age would be around fifty. A sense of uneasiness chilled through his spine when their eyes met. Tariq shifted his gaze sharply. The thing bothering him was, the man had been standing there for almost the same time as him. He pondered about it for a few seconds. Whatever. Tariq decided to leave the matter there. He had more important thing to worry about.
He looked up and down the street as far as he could see to find a sign of Zarrin but in vain. May be I should call her. He regretted the fact that they still didn't have their own cell phones, after all cell phones were the luxuries of very few people. But I could call her on land phone number she gave me. He called a few times before but only on selected clock times. Her father should be off for office by now. He pondered over. Being convinced he started for the nearest telephone booth to his right. Impossible thoughts were storming his mind.
May be she is stuck in some emergency. His mind tried to calm him.
But she would call in that case, shouldn't she? Another thought reasoned.
May be she did. But you are not in your house, are you? That made some sense to him. He reached the phone booth. The clinking sounds of the coins made him nervous. He dialed the number.
Everything fell so silent suddenly. He could only hear the beeping noise in the phone. Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep, it fell in harmony with the loud beats his heart was drumming. And after what seemed an interminable time listening to this intolerable music, someone picked up the phone.
"Hello!" It was a girl's voice.
"Umm. . Hello!" a rush of air came out of his mouth as he realized that he was holding his breath the whole beeping time."Is Zarrin there? "
A long pause.
"Sorry. No Zarrin lives here. You probably called wrong . . . . . ."
"No, wait. Is it not Mr. Zaman's place? "
"Oh! Mr. Zaman." Suddenly there was some hope."You must be out of touch for a long time. Mr. Zaman doesn't live here anymore. Not for around four years."
He couldn't believe his ears.
"But that can't be. Are you sure? "
"Yeah! And the funny thing is that someone like you called a few times for Mr. Zaman. . . wait, wait. . . was it you calling ? Because your voice sounds somewhat familiar. . . . ."
"No, it wasn't me. Thank you." He put the phone down. He was utterly bewildered. Zarrin hadn't lived there for four years! But I called her yesterday. He couldn't process the information he just got. What is happening? What happened to Zarrin? His Zarrin. He couldn't think of anything. His confusion left him into a dizzy state. Pictures of Zarrin swirled into his head. He thought of the days they used to fantasize together, sitting cuddled in their favorite place, a calm canopy covered in green grass beside a beautiful lake. Zarrin was always enthusiastic. She would rattle on fervently about her weird and impossible plans."Wasn't it great? "She used to ask Tariq at the end with eyes sparkling in excitement. And when Tariq would only give a mere smile in reply to her enthusiasm, she would pretend to be angry and would punch the shit out of him. He would lie on the grass and laugh, laugh so hard that it would only worsen her anger. Sometimes she would want to fly like birds, she would laugh and run on the soft green grass. Her dark hair would blow in the breeze. Tariq would only watch with dazzled eyes and wonder. Wonder what else could be more beautiful. He thought of the night Zarrin sneaked out from her house and met him on the street. They chirped to their heart out like two birds, holding each other's hand. And then she was possessed with her other mood."Let's dance the whole night." Her eyes were sparkling."I can't dance" was all he could manage. But of course, like always it wasn't enough. A hard glare from her decided everything. In a couple of minutes they were dancing, holding each other's hands. They danced and danced, in the dead of the night. Silence was their music and darkness their spectator. That night, Tariq was gripped with a deep sense of happiness. He felt like he could pass his whole life holding the hands of this crazy incredible girl. He felt he had nothing more to ask from God, nothing.
A knock at the door of the booth knocked the night off his head. He looked at his sides and his eyes locked with the man in grey coat, across the street. The old man was watching him intently. Tariq realized that the man had changed his position. It felt to him that the man was following him. His momentary confusion turned into firm belief when the man started walking toward him. Tariq didn't like the idea of confronting this weirdo right now. He quickly planned his next moves. He will go to Zarrin's house to inquire the matter. But he would duck this old man first. Tariq opened the door and started to walk towards the crowded place of the footpath. He saw that the man was also walking fast in his direction. Tariq increased his pace. He quickly mingled up with the crowd and turned sharply into a deserted ally. He started to run and in no time he reached the opposite part of the ally. Now he was on the footpath of a road. He looked back and scrutinized everything. The old man was nowhere to be seen."Good bye, Oldie!" Tariq shouted aloud. He felt relieved and was hyperventilating from the run. It's time to solve the mystery. He thought. He turned to call a rickshaw. And suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder."Busted at the same place." announced a deep grim voice.
Tariq knew who it was before he turned. Adrenaline surged through his veins and sweat broke out on his forehead. Though the man's words made no sense to him, his voice raised goosebumps. He faced the old man. The pipe and the hat were still in place. The man's eyes were the only noticeable thing in his simple feature. They were powerful. Tariq felt like they were piercing through him with indomitable force.
"Hi! I'm Dr. Kamal Azad. I know you, Tariq." The deep voice rang.
"Yes. But I don't think I know you." Tariq felt like a fool saying that.
"Huh! I get that from you all the time. Don't worry you will know me eventually." His words were unfathomable.
"What can I do for you? "
"Only walking and listening to me would for now. Will you, please? "
"O. . . O. . . Okay." Tariq uttered.
"This way." Dr. Azad started walking. Tariq started too after a moment's hesitation.
"How are you m'boy? " Dr. Azad asked Tariq like he knew him for years.
"Um. . . fine."
"Are you sure? " He sounded like mocking.
"Yeah. . . why should I lie about being fine."
"Because she didn't come."
Something struck Tariq like a blow. He halted abruptly.
"Wait a minute. How do you know? " His mind was completely boggled.
"That's why I'm here m'boy. To explain." Dr. Azad was walking again. Tariq followed him with a shocked face. They walked for sometimes in silence. Dr. Azad seemed like he was preparing himself for something. Tariq was trying to understand the situation. Suddenly Mr. Azad started talking .
"Listen, m'boy." He faced Tariq. "I am a doctor. , and my field of specialization is people's mind. In plain I'm a psychiatrist." Tariq frowned. He couldn't understand where Dr. Azad was leading but he could sense something was coming.
"Tariq, the brave, young boy." Dr. Azad addressed. He took a moment's pause. He looked so frail suddenly, like he didn't have the strength to do what he was preparing for. He gulped a couple of times. His head was lowered. He waited a few seconds, slowly rose his head up and looking directly to his eyes said,
"Boy, you need to know something. You have a rare mental disorder." Dr. Azad was saying. "Your memory refreshes itself every 15 days. It has been happening since a day five years back. Anything happened in this five years has been erased from your memory. In our language we call this condition short term memory loss." He said in a breath.
"You're probably thinking today is the 17th May of 2005. The day you chose to start a new life.â
Tariq's world shattered apart. He couldn't breathe properly.
"Well, look around you. You're in a different world now. It's 2010."
Tariq did as he was told. He looked around. And he knew Dr. Azad was right. Tariq could now see the changes those looked so sudden. The things he didn't notice in his excitement of the day. Tariq saw a newspaper stand with a calendar shouting in bold letters "2010".
Tariq felt a whirl in his head. He felt dizzy.
"How did this happen? Wha. . . What happened to Zarrin? " His voice broke.
Dr. Azad looked down. A tear formed in the corner of his eye. Taking a deep breath he started speaking again. His voice was very soft. "You were waiting in front of the book store that day with a rose in your hand, just like today." He added with a hurt smile.
"Zarrin was coming by a Taxi cab to meet you." He waited for a moment. "And her Taxi was rammed by a bus on the way."
"NO. ."
"The taxi was wrecked very badly."
"NO. ."
"And Zarrin couldn't survive the accident. She died instantly."
"NO. . . . . . . . . ." a long groan came out of Tariq. His world went upside down.
Zarrin is dead. He couldn't grasp the fact. Zarrin is dead. His Zarrin is dead. He whispered to himself. The cruelty of the fact felt like whiplashes on his heart.Lots and lots of whiplashes. He wanted to believe it was all part of a joke, wished so hard to wake up from this horrible dream like it wasn't happening. He longed so much, so so much to see Zarrin for one more time, just one more time.
"The news of her death shattered you. Dr. Azad started again. You became senseless and fell. The tremendous pressure caused by it damaged your brain. And when you woke up. . . . well, there was nothing to do." Tariq clenched his eyes shut. Dr. Azad's voice turned into a whisper."I was appointed as your doctor. From that very day, on every sixteenth day, you turn into the merry boy you once were. You go to that bookstore, you wear your chocolate colored shirt, and you wait with a rose in your hand for a girl. A girl who never comes."
Tariq's cheeks soaked with fresh tears. Dr. Azad patted him on the back and pointed something. Tariq looked at that direction. It was a graveyard. He did not need to be told what was in the graveyard. He started walking in that direction.
"It's harder every time to break your heart. But you have to be strong you know. . . . for her." Dr. Azad's words seemed to be coming from another world. Tariq entered the graveyard. He walked through the grass in a daze. A left turn revealed what he was searching for. He stood in front of the grave. The grey gravestone was announcing Zarrin's death cruelly. Tariq looked up at the sky. He wanted to ask God what he had done. The cloudy sky kept staring at him speechless. Anger started convulsing through his whole body. Tariq felt so angry that he wanted to shout, for all his pain, for this unbearable pain. His heart churned. He sat there and cried, desperately trying to pour all his sorrows in form of tears. But his tears were so insufficient, so little to his sorrow, like a few water drops to an ocean. I can't take it anymore. He got up. There were roses in front of the stone, dry. The roses those were supposed to ornament their marriage. He put out the rose he brought today and placed it beside the other roses, all same in size. The sight of the grave became intolerable to him. His heart ached. He looked at the grave for one last time and walked.