The Past That Never Faded...
"Sara, have you collected all the assignments, dear?" asked Sir Amir.
"Yes, Sir!" repled Sara.
"But I think there is one missing, who didn't hand it in?"
Tears welled up in her eyes as she answered, 'Sir, Hassan is absent today. He is in the hospital healing from the wounds he recieved trying to save Khalid.."
Before Sara could complete the sentence, there was a loud explosin and then silence and blankness..
I work as a news reporter for an American TV channel and am currently working on a documentary in Palestine. The political situation here in this year 2011 is far better than compared to the havoc and adversities the country has been going through the past few decades. Actually, Palestine is now a deserted country with hardly any activity. I am writing a documentary on what Israel has done to the once prosperous land and how it is now only a part of history books and faded mermories..
Somehow, I feel a connection to the ruins of Palestine. Ever since I have set foot on its lands, I have been restless. I have haunting dreams and all of them have one thing in common; the girl named Sara. As soon as I shut my eyes I am bound to find her. It's as if she is glued to the underside of my eyelids. The queerest thing is that I never see her face but I recognize her everytime, she feels familiar and yet is unknown to me. I have always felt that there is an undercurrent to that dream that I can't seem to understand. So to figure all this out, one day I decided to the town's school, which I had oftenly glimpsed in these dreams. I felt that the girl and this school were somehow connected and the answers of all my questions lay inside that red-brick building. Thus, here I am, standing in front of the huge iron gates of the abandoned, dingy building with a bizzare hope of solving the mystery.
I wrenched upon the gates and started to move through the grounds towards the building. A part of the building was still in use so I decided that I might find someone there. My eyes wandered across the building and I spotted an old woman sweeping the floors. I decided it would be best if I went to her and asked for instructions. But a man tapped my shoulder and asked if I needed his help. I flinched at first; seeing that he meant no harm, I apologised for my rebuff and told him that I wanted to enquire about one of the students. Amiably, he escorted me to his office and after we were settled he told me that he was the principal of the school and then asked me what the trouble was.
I hesitantly asked if a girl named Sara studied in his school. He smiled genially and replied that currently there were almost 10 girls named Sara in the school. Then he told me their surnames but as none of them clicked I asked him if I could see the school records. He asked me if I had any idea of the year in which the girl had studeied in the school. Automatically, I replied that the year was 1978. I was surprised at my answer. It actually slipped out of my mouth and I had no idea how. The principal did not move from his seat to go through any record files but sat there fixed wearing a somber and despondent expression.
"Are you, by any chance asking about Sara Ahmar?" he asked solemnly.
Instantly, I knew that was the girl I was looking for. Seeing the recognition on my face, the principal continued to tell me that Sara Ahmar had died three decades ago. He told me back then, he had also been a student in the school and Sara was his classmate. In the year 1979, Palestine had been a living hell. The country was at war with Israel and they had started targetting schools. They had attacked and bombarded the school to ruins. Many lives had been lost in the chaos and the principal had been one of the few lucky survivors but Sara had not been so fortunate..
Sara was collecting assignments from the studemts. There was a dejected look on her otherwise angelic and pretty face which gave away the mental trauma she was going through. From the seat by the window, a very handsome boy gazed at her longingly. He wanted to assuage her grief, but couldn't do anything. Her misery was stabbing him too, he could feel the dilemma she was going through and wanted to make it go away. He suffered with her because he had given his heart to her and there was no turning back now. He could only hope that she could overcome her misery of losing her best friend and brother Khalid. He prayed silently, that she was not left alone in the dreary world, and promised himself that he would always be there for her and that he would always love her with all his heart.
Sara had been orphaned as a three year old and since then Khalid, her elder brother had been her life and family. He had supported her and together they had faced bad times and welcomed better ones. A sigh escaped her chest as she remembered he had sacrificed his life to make a better one for her. He had worked day and night to send Sara to school, to create heaven for her on earth. He had always been very friendly and even Sara's friends were very fond of him. Poor Hassan had put his life at stake trying to save Khalid but to no avail; nonetheless she was grateful to Hassan for at least standing up and being courageous. She let her thoughts trail off and went to the teacher. She had been engrossed in conversation with him when suddenly there had been a deafening explosion and then chaos.
Omair had manged to come out of the building but he knew Sara was stuck inside and he had to save her so he jumped into the death pit and had ran fiercely to his classroom. Reaching the twelfth grade classroom, his eyes scanned the entire room. Sara was standing on a chair in the middle of the room, flames surrounded her. Not caring, about his own life, Omair dashed towards her. Approaching her, he grabbed her and pulled her, telling her to step down.
At first, she had been bewildered by his attempt at trying to rescue her. She wondered why he had come back and not saved himself? Why had he put his life at stake? She searched his hazel eyes desperately and saw the affection that they carried for her. She recognised the love they bore and suddenly the emptiness inside her vanished, leaving in it bliss and ecstasy. The despair and numbness Khalid's death had brought into her soul was healed as she place her arms around him, clinging to him. She felt renewed and euphoric, happy and complete as she hid her face in his chest and as he folded his arms around her as if guarding her from the deathly flames. She knew he would be hers, she knew he would love her, she knew that his compassion was enough for her and as he pulled her towards the exit, she held him ever so tightly..as if she'd never let go. They had reached the exit. She was with Omair - he was with her; they could want nothing else, it felt so appropriate, so safe..
But Alas! Fate had planned something else for them. Another deathly explosion shook the school building and Omair and Sara met the end of their lives..
The principal's eyes were filled with tears, when he finished the story. My cheeks were wet too, I realised. It had felt as if I had been there, watching the helplessness of Sara, watching the love Omair felt for her, watching how they met there ends. Wiping my face with a napkin I asked the principal if he had any pictures of Sara or her classfellows. Shaking his head he said that all records and files had been damaged in the fire. Disappointed, I thanked him and made my way to the gates. Just as I was about to exit I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around I saw the old sweeper looking at me with watery eyes. She asked me to follow her saying she could help me more. Though, I was completely stunned by her wierd behaviour, I followed as she led me to an old room. There from a battered old cupboard she retrieved a photograph and handed it to me.
It was a faded out picture, labelled Grade 12. I observed the faces in the picture. My head spinned. How could it be? I knew each and every face in the picture as well as the teacher, Sir Amir. Below him in the first row, sat a boy with hazel eyes and a badge on his chest labelled Head Boy. Besides him a radiant and cheerful girl stared at me boldly, she too had a badge on her chest labelled, Head Girl. My heart missed a beat. I gaped. My jaw dropped and my mouth was hanging open..
"Insane, absurd !" I thought..
There sitting beside Ahsan was a younger version of me.