Art of defeating. | Teen Ink

Art of defeating.

April 4, 2016
By Rohann SILVER, Lucknow, Iowa
Rohann SILVER, Lucknow, Iowa
7 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
Give your heart to love and hands to serve.


The morning of April 1, 1997 stepped into motion with the tomfoolery of Stephnie and Viola. ‘Stephnie, Stephnie...” Her mother exclaimed her from the wrecked petite window pane of their aged Chennai house where they squandered some of their most serene days. While the latter yelled, the young and immensely cute former was engaged in collecting orchids for she had a bet with her younger and naughtier half that she was the most appealing of all. Viola, a year younger devil was too occupied in the battle of appearing surprisingly superior, flamboyant and ruthless in defeating her 6 year older sibling Stephnie. It was not late when their mother approached to the site and caught hold of both of them and was on her way of whacking them when she was intruded by the chaos downhill. The scene was dangerously disturbing. The petrified mother with her two most valued assets ran inside and started calling up Stephnie’s father who was on his way for groceries in the nearby market. She was awfully aghast and bowled over by the news of complete annihilation of the Nairobi Nagar Coastline by the fatal tornado followed by the detestable flood. She jam-packed all their vital belongings and was expecting their father to return, but he didn’t, never. Forced by the state of affairs they moved Delhi to live a life of struggles and hardships. Their only abode was ravaged to enormous chunks of melancholy and tears.
The sun of May 17, 2009 rose with a new foundation.  After concluding her Masters it was time for Stephnie’s (the brunette with a remarkably smoking and magnificent aura and appearance) new job.” Mom, mom where’s my tie” She yelled as piercingly as possible. “In the first drawer, beside your handkerchiefs” was the mother’s return. She was unreservedly keyed up and was oblivious of the imminent dire twist in her life. It was her first day in workplace which at the end apparently made Stephnie fatigue and dreadfully weary but she too was rejoiced with the conspicuous verity that she was in the position to accomplish her family’s requirements devoid of any encumbrances. But her happiness knew no bounds when she first saw Muhammad in her lunch break at a coffee shop down the office’s street. That feeling, emotion was indescribable. That city, those lights, that wind and that ambiance felt flaccid rather like mesmerizing truth. The 19 year old muscular and spruce Muhammad with the Islamic cap he wore after leaving the mosque stole Stephnie’s glance at once but she was perceptibly helpless and trapped in the clichéd cultural guidelines of the conservatism she grew in and the attire spoke it all. She gave the most impolite look she could ever manage to render. But unaware of the rekindling sensations at Muhammad’s end she finished her shake and left the café. While Muhammad was awestruck to observe such a magnificent specimen of captivating splendor and exquisiteness, he lost it all and followed her to her office. The day went by as customary but the nights were relatively distressing, she couldn’t quit thinking about the startling sample of beefy character she set her eyes upon. The fire wasn’t extinguished too at Muhammad’s end. It was June 22, 2011 when the fate of Stephnie displayed a fascinating twirl. She again met Muhammad at the supermarket near her place but this time the situations were slightly piquant. Well, while Muhammad was busy adoring the radiant eyes of Stephnie who stood muddled in the fruits section she was occupied in the pursuit to lucratively carry the massive amount of fruits she managed to select. While she was on her way to the payment counter she slipped and was about to fall only when she finds herself wedged in the brawny arms of Muhammad, as she too once imagined her to be but certainly not in these state of affairs. Mortified by the condition she pushed Muhammad away with all her force she could manage to apply, let go of the bond and yelled in front of a hundred “You... Stay away” and ran outside abandoning Muhammad with a contemplating and unanticipated dilemma. Now this scene may seem as an exemplary bollywood fiction with coincidences and romantic twists but it rather ended in a palpably humorous manner. Later that noon, realizing her mistake Stephnie’s ethics constrained her to apologize to Muhammad as soon as possible. But familiar with the fact and perplexity as where to find him she became upset. But fate administered it all. Hasn’t it had been Stephnie’s mother who told her to attain a significant amount of spices from the markets in Old Delhi, she would have never caught hold of Muhammad outside the mosque he just visited for attending the prayer meeting. She instantaneously started following Muhammad till his way back to the small butcher market where he was negotiate with the prices of the goats he purchased for his family for the forthcoming pious occasion of Eid. She finally called him and said with a look of guilt “hey, I am sorry for my behavior that day; I never meant any of those things I said and instead am thankful you helped me”. “It’s ok, I understand” was his only reply as he was in a hurry to leave. He was bunged by Stephnie when she asked him to join her for coffee in a nearby café as her symbolic shrug of regret. This was the start, what followed next was their often meetings at the café every Thursday at 5, in his car, behind the abandoned palace and markets. It was probably the day of September 10, 2011 when she realized how frantically she was in love with Muhammad, when she lied for the first time and attained the policy of falsehood in her entire life to her mother. It was Saturday and Stephnie as belonging to a stringent traditionalist family was confined within the obligations to attend a prayer meeting every Saturday. But she in one way or another managed to lie and omit that meeting for she anticipated attending a dinner date with Muhammad. That evening was one of the most breathtaking evenings Stephnie could ever imagine. She clothed in a crimson and cherry off shoulder middy with a net shrug which defined her majestic torso with the prettiest golden-black heels she could afford. The trendy white shirt with black blazer with slim-fits and shiny soles gave a self explanatory justification for Muhammad’s manly manifestation. Post dinner on roof Stephnie experienced her first kiss with the being that she could rely on the most. Residing in his masculine thickset arms and gaping at the stars felt like an enthralled reverie to Stephnie. His touch, aura and each breath excavated the love between them. Stephnie’s charisma made every last anguish, pessimism and abysmal rift fade away which Muhammad possessed. Both accomplished each other. But everything did not conclude as planned. It became quite dark and lonely around the time they left the cinema. “You wait here, let me bring the bike from parking” Muhammad said as he left for the parking lot abandoning Stephnie at the cinema entrance. It was not long when Stephnie took clear notice of a man in his forties standing back firmly and declaring in a cruel tone of voice “Ghar chalo” (let’s go home) and turned back to find his uncle Shyam with a bunch of boys. Meanwhile in the lot as Muhammad sat on the bike and was going to start the bike, a man of thirties whacked him with a heavy wooden rod causing him to bleed riskily and the repercussions of which were pretty grim. He defined the man to the police as of bearded and muscular for he could not recall his face due to the blurred vision he sensed at the time he was hit. The problems just began at Stephnie’s end. Unaware of the repugnant and dire act that took place with Muhammad, Stephnie was engaged in dealing with the rage and antagonism of his family for she was considered impure, not wholly because of the verity that she possessed an unacceptable relation with a boy but mostly because of the boy’s religion. The only nightmare which Stephnie thought of was coming true. Her mother began her quest of finding an appropriate boy for Stephnie and thoughtfully prepared her mind to get her daughter wedded within a two week period. This became too repulsive when Stephnie’s family persuaded her to leave her job and was made to stay at home under someone’s unvarying supervision. But fate had never given up for there was no superlative power than love and deity. The day of October 4, 2011 tilted upside down the whole cosmos, as Stephnie was going to face something beyond terrible. But still unaware of all this Stephnie called up Muhammad and sneaked out of the utter house arrest within which she was caged only to meet him in the café, all with the assistance of Viola. She received a message at 6:00 p.m. from Muhammad stating: “on my way, have something important to tell you”. It was an hour later after waiting when Stephnie called Muhammad to enquire where he was but his phone notified its status of being switch off.  The second Stephnie stood up with disgust and poignancy; her phone rang with an unfamiliar no. blinking on the screen and as she picked she recognized Muhammad’s trembling voice as for he was panting immeasurably and Stephnie perceived a sheer sense of suspicion. “Meet me at the Sector-E bus stop as soon as possible” was the only she could hear before he hung up. Since Stephnie had her only chance of sorting things out with Muhammad, she rushed to the bus stop. As she reached the bus stop she found Muhammad gesturing at her through the window of a bus near the entrance gate of the bus stop. As she stepped in, she found him sitting on the second last seat. She went there and sat, hugged him and said “what happened to you? You look terrible’. “Concealment… I’m hiding” he said exhaustingly. ”hiding from what?” she replied with a muddled look. He responded grimly “Your family’s still menacing me. Your cousin saw me coming towards the café and somehow he knew I was there for you. This made me amend our meeting spot. On the way I thought someone was stalking me so why I started rushing. They won’t accept us Stephnie. Let’s go.” “Go where?” she replied with an even more alienated look. “My hometown, Dharampur” was Muhammad’s reply. Caught in this radical predicament Stephnie stood up and left the bus without even looking back at Muhammad. Instead of following or interrupting her, he too let go of her. Somewhere he knew she would return. She did return, with even more valor and conviction in her love. On the unusual darkening night of November 20, 2011 Stephnie with all her lifetime reminiscences and empathy full of guilt and repentance sneaks out with Muhammad for the Delhi bus stop. As the bus amplified pace thoughts filled with inquisitiveness flooded Stephnie’s mind, which seemed to calm down only when Muhammad embraced and remedied her distraught soul. They arrived at Dharampur early in the crack of dawn but were not greeted with such great fervor but rather mundane. Muhammad mother was rigorous and stiff in her verdict of not letting Stephnie to step inside the house as a member or not reckoning her as her daughter in law until she is transformed as an official Muslim. Eventually, no matter how abhorrent refusal a mother can enforce but she by no means can afford to see his progeny in agony. But the most outrageously unpleasant twist arrived when after their 3 weeks of stay Stephnie went missing. But soon after as she through so many impediments managed to flee from the critical yet contemptuous incarceration of Muhammad’s father and younger brother Hussein who allegedly tried to sell her in a brothel for an massive figure of funds. Muhammad penniless and injured from what his family has rendered left his place with Stephnie and went on for an exploration of a new modest domicile. Muhammad found a new job at an asylum in Raniganj, a small estranged village in Chennai, well enough for him to meet the daily meals. While on the other hand Stephnie was happy and rejoiced teaching the kindergarteners how to plant a tree. Their besieged story never took a pause in serving astonishing twists. One came with an even attention-grabbing facet which left Stephnie rapt. Stephnie found her lost father in the same asylum Muhammad worked in. He was labeled as a sick homeless refuge of the 1998 Chennai floods. Her father supported her marriage and was more than happy to attain her. Looks like fate had offered it all to Stephnie, a true impregnable love and family that doesn’t search the good and better you but the good and better in you.    


The author's comments:

Sometimes even destiny leads to a muddled perception but what leads to victory is passion.


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