One day just like any other, when they were both sitting in the vast grounds watching the sun set in the wintery sky of December, goggling at the dew drops that lay on the ground like sparkling white opals of Brazil.

She had asked: "How much do you love me?"

Ali had been too consumed in staring at Mother Nature painting the sky with shades of indigo, red and orange. But this brought him back to his senses.

"Enough to stand up to the world for you." he said while draping the lone sheet that he had brought with him around their shoulders and covering their hunched up legs.

Aisha snuggled lower in the sheet, relishing the warmth of their bodies together. Her arms were wrapped around him now.

"Will you ask for my hand?" she looked up at him with eyes so arresting that he wished nothing else but to drown in them.

And so their story took a drastic turn. Just at the age of 18, young Ali, the son of a poor farmer who had 8 mouths to feed, went to Aisha's parents to ask for her hand. They resisted, that's what they do in their society. People eyed them distrustfully and talked behind their backs, that's what they do in their society too. But they stuck together and Aisha's parents finally gave in.

Ali caught himself smiling at the dank ceiling. The paint had chipped from places around the walls and they had turned a dirty shade of yellow. Still stroking Aisha's hair, he asked her:

"How was your night?"

"Painful." she breathed back. "I don't know how I'd survive without you."

"Come here."

Ali pulled his wife on top of him, resting her head on his chest as she pressed her feet down on his in approval. Aisha smiled warmly with her eyes closed. After all this time, Ali still had a great sense of romance.

Meanwhile Ali continued gazing back into their past. He had brought her in this small apartment that was fit for only one person to live, but she had accepted it with all her heart. Promising her for a bigger and better house to live in, Ali had set foot in the real world and started a job in a local hotel. All his day he would wear a dirty black apron and serve people or otherwise stand on the tandoor and make rotis to serve. All of this for 3 thousand rupees a month, only! His favorite part of the day was when he came back late and saw her sitting on the bed, with her head tilted back on a pillow, half asleep and waiting. Then she would extend her arms and smile at him when he would come back and they would let all the fears drown between them.

Years passed by. Ali could not go anywhere with his job. His forehead creased into a permanent frown just at the age of 30 when he should have been enjoying the prime of his manhood. The ups and downs of life had shattered him. His only reason to live and only hope to keep pushing was Aisha. Her constant love and support gave him power.

And then one day, his life changed when the doctors told them that it was Tuberculosis. It came as silently as death itself. He saw his life crumble before his eyes. His lone reason to continue was seizing to exist. Right before his eyes, she was dying and he could do nothing about it. Ali cried at night when she would finally be able to sleep in his arms. She never deserved this.

Ali had no backup and feared that he would have no means of income if he decided to leave his job. So he stayed and kept working hard. He served overtime to pay for the doctor's fee and the costly medicines. But all in vain! She shrunk with every passing day until she finally refused to go get her checkup.

"It's of no use Ali! We have been back and forth like this for months and all the doctors have been able to do is only make things worse!" she shrieked with all of her breath and that's when Ali realized that she had made her decision and nothing could change it.

So he resolved himself to spending more and more time with his wife and left the job. Now he stayed with her all day at home, taking care of her needs and catering to them.

He was broke and she was dying. But in the moment all felt nice. Aisha was in his arms, coughing and taking in staggering breaths, but she was his to have. As he leaned in to kiss her forehead, he realized that by agreeing to her decision, he had submitted themselves to the mortality of their lives and the immortality of their love. A tear broke free from the corner of his eye and raced down his cheek. What more could a poor man do than hold on to the little that he has?
                          THE END.

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