What Ayesha Thought 3
Omar Khan, where should I start? How should I end? Should I
call him an idiot, or cunning enough to come across as someone so alarmingly
adorable? Sometimes, he seems like a colorful bud, wrapped in a million layers
of conservatism and idiosyncrasies. He’s everything I’d hate in a man, and
sadly everything that would drag me closer to someone.
He’s laughter, he’s fun, he’s anger and what makes me angry.
He can piss the hell out of me in a second, and make me laugh the very next
one. He’s the kind I jibed about with my friends back home. The sorts with
sickeningly high MCP levels. My best friend in India says I got a crush on him.
No, hell no! I’m just being high on adventure hormones, trying to like
something I usually won’t.
Attraction is there, it’s prevailed the scenario since day
one. But love? No, definitely not. And that’s what my friends back home don’t
understand. They say I’m playing with fire, but why? I don’t love him, leave
alone ‘being in love’ with him. Besides, what’s wrong in having a foreigner
friend in a foreign land? Even if he’s someone from across the border, someone
from Pakistan! I don’t understand the hullabaloo behind being friends with
someone who, had history not played a wicked game, would’ve been one of us. Can
a line drawn on soil with a bunch of metal wires decide who our friend could be
and who is by all means a foe?
Call it human nature or just an urge to consume the
forbidden fruit, I’m friends with him and I’m loving it so far. We watch
movies, eat junk food, talk about absolutely random stuff on our blackberries
all day! He can’t stand my nerve to be open minded, I can’t tolerate him narrow
headed behavior. He hates almost all my habits- from boozing to smoking to my
‘loudness’ and honestly, I’m yet to start making peace with his ways. But we’re
friends, no we’re best friends because sweet pancakes taste the best with a
little bit of sugar and a tad bit of lemon!
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