The story of a night

And I thought it had been 1001 nigths.

What happened after that ?? Where you left her at the railway station ???

Huh, so you didnt do it

lolz yeah!

At last finished ! !

Thought of sex was gone next day itself right segmund? remove the description of her beauty and all excitement is gone! Thank God I didn't visit QL these few days.

Yeh, write it down quick :)

Waitin fr de last part :D

Why do guys always associate me with hamad?

the twist is gonna be tonight ;)

Thats how segmund ends up at Hamad ;)

LOL. You will have your answer tonight!

Damn, this story is long. Just tell me this, did you have seks with her?

This is the the only answer I am looking for.

She told me she had to return to work because she had not taken any leave before coming. I asked her if she was alright with going back. She told me if she had her way, she would rather stay a few more days. We went to her children’s madrassah in the evening and she gave the kids small toys, clothes and sweets. This time the experience was less emotionally charged. She did not cry and her kids as usual did not react much. They just received the gifts as if from a stranger.

“Now, I have another difficulty. I need to sell my cell phone, this old one. I do not know if it would get me enough money to buy my ticket.” I looked at the cell phone to see how much worth it would be. Since it was too old and full of scratches, I thought she could not even get money worth the bus fare for her. “No one is going to take it for more than 500, and the air-ticket is 7000,” I told her. Without thinking she asked, “and how much is the train ticket?” “I do not know, may be a 1000 or so.” I told her.

We went to this place called mobile market to see if anyone wanted to buy her cell phone. I told her if nobody wanted to buy it, I would keep it and pay for her train ticket. By the time we reached there, all the shops were closed and we had to come back.

“Would you like to go with me to the squash courts?” I asked her. She agreed.

She even played with me, but the guy over there stopped her since she was wearing shoes with marking soles. All the girls at the sports centre stared at her wondering who she was and what she was doing with me there. There was no question she was more beautiful than all of them and it was natural for them, therefore, to be curious about her.

Along came a third night--- and the last night.

Thank you for saying a sensible thing.

there's nothing illegal about this story...so you people shut up or get off QL and stay in your caves!...sheesh...

:)

Read it as a kid.

Read also Begam ki billi By Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi

I gave her a blanket and changed the thermostat temperature from 16 to 20 degrees centigrade. We were able to sleep until the early morning power outage. For a good half an hour none of us woke up, but after that the heat was just too hard to bear. She prepared the breakfast and for the first time I compared the life of a bachelor to that of a married one.

I went to college and she stayed at home. On my return, I was astonished how my room had been transfigured. Even my own mom always said it was never possible to clean my room well. One may find anything in my room but order. Her visibly painstaking effort seemed to have put everything in the room more than just in order. I found her sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed and reading one of my books, muskurahaten, by Shaukat Thanvi. She seemed to have been enjoying the book well.

After greeting me, she straight asked me this question:

“Will you mind if I keep a cat in this house?”

I do not like cats. I do not hate them but do not like them either. I knew the answer to her question (yes I will), but I could not answer because another question came to my head: how long is she planning to stay with me? I asked her why she was asking this and she told me there was a funny story in the book about a cat which belonged to the author’s wife and which made the life of the author like hell by first having serially monogamous affairs with many cats in the neighbourhood and then bearing many small kittens. I wondered what made it relevant for her to mention the story. May be she is now eyeing me as a potential husband, I thought.

I like to read it here than in any groups.. Pls continue

And yes Segmund, we have a separate group on QL for readers and writers;

Read more: http://www.qatarliving.com/group/poets-and-writers-in-doha#ixzz1fVb4HOLX

flor, yes, I do agree as well the story has a lot to criticize but I'm waiting for its end!

better create a group for this.

In the first place, the story itself is haram and encourage illegal acts!

Does the forum allow this?

looking forward to the rest of the story!

I thought what if she had a gun and was about to shoot me. But then I would console myself with the question as to what she would get out of killing a man of no consequence to her. I wondered if I should just jump and knock her to the ground. But what if it is altogether different than what I think?

The tense spell was broken in a single go by a phone call on her cell phone. Her cell phone started to ring and I instantly turned the light on, all set to avert an immediate assault. Without saying anything to me, she quickly picked the call and started talking. It was her mother on the phone and she was lying to her saying she has already reached her place and that the her flight was delayed so she could not call in time. When she finished the call, she spoke to me. She told me she had told her mom that she was going to return the same day. The suspense of her touching my feet was killing me, and I had to finally speak it out. She told me she was looking for a blanket because she had been feeling too cold. She thought she could pull the blanket under my feet and wear it. I was not immediately certain if she was telling the truth.

I will try to finish it as soon as I can; however, I do not have enough time at a stretch to write it in one go. There are not many night left now. So content yourself a while.

When is ur story going to end?? Its not the story of a night now...2 days are over for us also...plz complete it soon....

My heart was full of all kinds of suspicions at the time. I was unsure if the girl wants to get something to eat, something unlikely as we had a buffet only three or four hours back, or if she wants to search my room to steal something, again unlikely as she did not have the looks of a thief at all, or maybe she put something in the room, a hairband or something, which she now wants to find out without awakening me. Or is she really up to something nasty--- something lusty.

I had terrible jolts of sensations running up and down my torso when she touched my feet---intentionally or otherwise--- and then stepped back and stood still. I was broad awake and watching all this as clearly as if in the light of the day. “Is she trying to wake me up, but just does not have the courage to speak it up.” I wondered. “Or is she trying to find out if I am awake.” My amorously tasted suspicions were suddenly, without a prompt, replaced by disastrous ones. “May be she put something in my coffee to drug me with, and now she wants to see if the venom has taken effect,” I thought to myself, my body sweating cold now. “But what wrong have I done to you to deserve death at your hands. No problem, even if you have already drugged me and if die I must, let me tell you, woman, you will not leave this room without your neck broken.” Such horrible thoughts raced through my head with a surprising speed. Unintentionally, I grasped two fingers of my one hand in the other hand to check if my fist still had power in it, that is the test commonly done during a neurological examination.” The power in my limbs seemed fine. “But what if she had added a rodenticide or something, which would only make me bleed inside my body and bleed me to death. Am I having nausea?” Those few moments were so horrible for me indeed.

sabar sabar sabar...

Well, then........... ???

Another night came and we had to stay together. This time round we were no strangers at all. In fact, we were quite something of two friends now.

She made coffee for us both. She talked to me and asked me questions about me, my family and things like that. She asked me if my feelings would have been the same towards her had I found her in a situation where she was not misery stricken but a regular girl. I smiled and said I knew not.

At around 12 olcock I told her it was late for me and I had to sleep since I had to go to college the next day. She agreed we should better sleep. "And by the way, it is my turn tonight to sleep on the mattress," she told me. I said it was ok but she insisted that I sleep on my bed and let her lie on the floor.

Again I could not dare to switch off all the lights for the very same reason. I knew my sleep would not be of quality if there was any light in the room; however, I had no choice. But this time I did not turn the light over my bed on. Rather I removed the curtain from a window pane to let some of the street light come in.

She said she wanted to talk to me but since it was important to sleep, she would rather not disturb me. I did not say it was ok if she talked to me. We lied down in the dim light.

Half an hour into her sleep, I felt she had risen. This is my problem that I can not share my room with anyone at all. Because even if they change their side while asleep, this is enough for me to awake me from sleep. I thought she was going to the rest room or something. But she started to search for something in the room. I was half scared half surprised. "What is it that you are looking for, girl?" I thought to myself.

Dr.......

VEry long Shtory bhai. Pen it down once for all.

this has become more than like an Indian Serial Kiyonke woh Ladki Abaya may thi....

ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!

Dr. Seqmund go on...

This is good. Ummmmmm, this is good

Very long and nice dream, but why are you boring others with it?

continue your story, Segmund.

The woman was so extremely overcome with grief and emotion that she almost behaved frantically upon the arrival of her kids into the room. She started kissing them, their foreheads, their heads, and, one after the other she looked at them for a few moments and then pinned each one of them to her chest for a while. Then she spoke to me with eyes full of tears and a sorrowful smile on her face, these are the kids, my kids. He (pointing to the younger about 3) is Adnan, he (pointed to the elder about 4) is Salman. I was surprised to see such young kids studying on their own in a madrassah.

The girl spent about an hour with the kids. The kids seemed so well-mannered and so unlike the regular kids. All the while, they did not shout, cry or make any mischief so typical of other kids. They just kept quiet as their mom spoke to them. Only occasionally would they respond to their mom. It looked like they were not even sure if the person was their own mother. After an hour, we were told that another parent wants to meet their kids and we should, therefore, leave.

The girl was pretty ok until we got back into the car. In the car, she started crying loudly. Everyone outside in the dark, narrow streets was looking at us wondering what made the girl cry. Everyone seemed to first look at her and then me to know if I was indeed the reason behind her turmoil. I could not drive fast because so many carts and make-shift stalls were spread out in the street which was already too narrow.

Finally, we reached back home. I asked her what she wanted to do next. She told me she wanted to meet her mom if possible. She called and her mother told her that her father was away so she must come for a few hours. I drove her to the place where her house had been. This time it was not an anonymous dingy lane. It was one of the posh areas and her house was just near a famous Costa Coffee that I often visited with my friends. I had to park the car in a lane next to the one where her house was. This was to make sure no one sees her getting off my car. "This would be enough reason for my father to shoot me right now", she told me. She told me she would come to see me in the same cafe in the evening.

I returned to my hostel since it was closer to the place than my house. I slept for a couple of hours. In the evening, she came. She told me how terribly bad she felt to burder me despite the fact that we had no relation and that I was a busy person. I told her it is ok, it is for us humans to help each others out in the time of distress. "Today it is you, tomorrow it might be me", I told her.

We decided to go somewhere to spend the evening. She said she would like to go to a park but I told her it was too hot for that. Finally, we went to a mall and just strolled past the corridors for almost two hours.

For a while I found that she had ceased to be the person she had been so far. She started smiling without showing any signs of grief. Her eyes shone as she talked and she even told me a few funny things about herself. She asked me a billion questions about myself. She told me how she was afraid of doctors as a kid and how she had run away from the operation room on the day of her eye operation.

We went to a restaurant where there was an all you can eat deal. After having our dinner, she told me this had been her first time in several years to have a full meal. She told me she was never able to enjoy anything in life after what happened to her. She said she only lived for her kids and would have died a sweet death long before had the two kids not been there.

While we were coming from the dinner, I thought it would definitely not be a good idea if we stayed together in the same house for one more night. So I thought I would leave her at my place and would come to the hostel myself. But she discarded the idea by saying she was too scared to stay alone in a house.

How many times do I have to tell it is true.

Is it a true story ??

N den ??

It is such an uncanny resemblance. You think as if Henna is standing--- right before your eyes! :)

Close to Henna...?

She described how her first night was in the orphage. "I was stunned," she told me. She said she missed her two kids alot while she stayed in the orphanage.

She stayed in the orphanage for a good three years. She completed her intermediate as a private student while staying there.

While the mother befell a catastrophe, the fate of the kids was no less miserable. After their father got married to the new woman, the kids found no place left in the house. The new mother made the father dispose the kids into a local religious school, "madrassah". It was only to get rid of them. The pretext was they were going to get religious education. Obviously the new mother could not spend money on them to stay in a school or hostel. So madrassah education being free was deemed fit for the kids.

"In one way", the woman told me, "I was happy. I could visit my kids any time. But when I saw them begging for food in the streets, collecting 'wazifa', my heart tore apart. I did not bear my kids to be begging in the street."

She started crying loudly. I did not know how to console her. I did try to say a few things though suggesting that all this is by God and there must be some good in it for them.

She told me how she was able to get a job in a non-governmental organization in the other city after completing her intermediate education. "I get RS 12000 (QR 500) per month, and I live a very good life." She prolonged the word 'very' so much that I had to distract myself from what she was saying for a while and wonder how terribly ungrateful I am to God for I am spending so much money and never thinking it is enough. I however quickly returned from this comparison and focused on what she was saying. She told me now it is 5 months she is working there. And she came here only to see her kids once.

She told me how she sold her cell phone to get a one way air ticket. I asked her why she did not save for the ticket and she told me she always bought things for her kids whenever she had some money left at the end of the month. It was only then I realized that she had put a big sack seemingly filled with clothes in my the deck of my car before we drove.

"So now I will go and meet my kids. Will you like to see my kids?" She asked in a way as if she really wanted me to do so. I wondered what reason I would have to see the kids. Since it was Sunday and I had no work, I agreed.

I was not well aware of the whereabouts of the place she wanted to go to. She took me a part of the city where I had never been before. It was a densely populated area and there were mostly Rickshaws and motorbikes driving. The kids looked at the car as if it was something unusual. At one point, I got a little scared too. "What if she is trying to have me kidnapped?" I thought to myself. Finally we reached a blind end and the car could not go further. We got out of the car and endtered a very dark and and narrow street. Amazingly, the street was very cold as compared to the temperature elsewhere. Probably it was because the place had not been ever exposed to sunlight. After walking for around ten minutes in the maze of streets we reached this 'madrassah'.

I told her if she forgot to bring the sack from the car and she told me she left it herself because she wanted to see the kids once more.

We entered the madrassah. The recitation of the innumerable kids in the countless rooms of the madrassah was no different than chirping of early morning birds. We sat in a reception room from where the chirping sounds was not so loud but got high every time the door was opened. After she told the person in the room the names and classes of the kids, he fetched back the kids.

It was such a scene to see the girl meet her kids like that!

Thank you very much indeed. It is the goodness of your mind to think so.

Doc ur a good writer :)

Segmund, keep it going. I am hooked

[[wysiwyg_imageupload:6448:]]

Do not be deceived. That is a very old picture. I look much older and retired now. ;)

I am sleepy!

But it could pass as a soap opera drama! But no commercial value!

We are viewing yours ;D

heheheh. I am sorry but your imagination has not hit the bull's eye. Actually, her eyes were almost the same color but her sclerae (part around the iris), were completely white without any redness. Besides, her skin was alabaster white.

I agree with you both. However, I do not have any pictures of Henna and my picture alone would be pointless.

and;

in my imaginations

>

I agree with ghazalz...some pictures with complete story..

The story needs some pictures also...especially Henna's

Emotions, supense.... what next? Segmund the story should continue

the mods seem to be hooked :)

suspense? romance? action?

“One day he came home and was extremely nice to me. Then he told me he had decided to leave me for another woman. He said he was willing to give me anything I wanted but all he wanted of her was to get out of his life. He said it was up to her if she wanted the children to remain with her or him. I told him I wanted nothing of him.

He divorced me and I came to my parent’s house. Parent’s--- I call it so because it was no more my own house. My mother understood my situation. She cried for me and she consoled me every time I cried. But my father was now a different man. He was convinced that I was the one responsible for my divorce. He scolded me all the time and kept on reminding me what an unwanted, hellish human I was. I still bore all the misery but one day, it so happened, my father told my mother that he intended me to get married to another man. This time it was an old widower almost three times my age.

I rebelled against my father decision and he became furious. That one week was no less than hell for me. But in the end what happened was something I never expected. My own father asked me to leave the house if I would not yield to his wish. I had to leave the house. My mother cried for me. And I cried for myself too.

My mother took me to an orphanage, where I was admitted the same day. It was such a different feeling being in the orphanage the first night.”

Segmund, what strange happened - keep it coming

lol

Urdu...:))

Good stuff, but Don't give up the day job :o)

I tried to sleep but having the tea and the light in the room made it rather difficult. So I sat up in the bed and spoke to her.

“Henna, please do not mind but I really am kind of curious about you. Please tell me what exactly your story is?”

“OK. If you must know, then here you go. But remember I am only sharing my story with you because I trust you. And because you have been extraordinarily kind to me.”

She told me a strange story. According to her, she belonged to the city where we were but was now living in another one. She belonged to a rich family, lived a luxurious life and used to study at a very expensive school. At the age of 18, someone sent a proposal to her family and the family agreed. She was wedded to a business man who was about thirty years of age, twelve years older than she was. She had to quit school, could not join college, something not unusual in our society, and had to rear a family.

He husband was not a good man. During the first year or two their relation was somewhat smooth. Later, however, it somehow followed a bumpy course. The man used to drink, kept abusing her, and worse than everything, he seemed to be sleeping around since he always came home late at night and never showed any interest in her any further.

She said she put up with all this for a good deal of time. She cried and never let her parents know what she was going through. By then she had already two kids, both male, and she thought it is enough for her to live with the hope of these two kids. However, one day something strange happened.

I know you are an English teacher, lol.

hooked on to yr story... continue..

Hummm...Now the title is a bit mismatch ;)

After I woke up and washed my hands and face, I told her I was going outside to to get something for breakfast. She said there was no need for that as she had already prepared the breakfast.

"Oh, how?"

"I prepared it without your permission, but I knew you would permit me if I asked you to."

"Oh, that is ok but did you find enough items in the house?"

"Well, I think there was enough to make breakfast for two. Let us go to the other room, I have already set the food over there."

I was surprised to see that she had so meticulously prepared the breakfast. There was tea, two omelletes, cornflakes, paratas, halwa, honey and fresh lemon juice. I was amazed to see my little, seldom-frequented house could serve such lavish breakfast!

"My God when did you sleep then if you spent so much time doing all this."

"I knew I wont sleep, so I decided to do something useful."

"Well, thank you then, but honestly speaking, I do not find it any good to make a guest make food for me."

"Well, in life everything does not happen the way you like it." She said smilingly, her smile still faded in a background of grief.

We had the breakfast. She hardly ate anything except having a cup of tea and some cornflakes.

"Now, let us go back to our room. It is too hot in here." I told her.

"No, I need to wash the dishes first." She said.

"No, you wont touch the dishes. We have a baba in our hostel. He cooks here for me sometimes. He will wash the dishes."

"But what if he finds me here in your house?"

This was for the first time I realized she might have intentions to stay in the house. I had assumed that her stay at my place was a day long at the most.

"Well, yeah. He might not consider it appropriate to find you here." I said.

"Well, then I think I would either leave or I would wash the dishes instead?"

"OK, leave them for now. Let us go to the other room. We will decide it there."

I was still feeling sleepy because I always needed more than eight hours sleep when I played squash. So I lied down on my bed. She came and sat in the chair in front of the my computer table.

MR.Segmund we are waiting for the story...Really curious to know what happened next...

O O, what happened next? I am drooling over here

Going for Jumma now Ghazalz.

Hope you won't miss Jumma':)

The light went off. It is common to have these power outages in my country. Call it the stupidity of our leaders who have failed to plan appropriately about meeting the energy needs of the growing population or the sheer lack of resources, my country still has protracted periods of interruption in the supply of electricity. These spells are always intensified in the hot weather when demand for electricity is more.

I knew it was impossible to sleep now. I had to open the door myself for I did not know if she knew what to do in the event of a power outage. The reason for this uncertainty was that there are still so very rich people who never get a power outage. They are lucky enough to live in posh areas where power supply is continuous.

The opening of the door had given me an opportunity to ask her the reason for her crying.

"Oh, are you ok? Are you not asleep?"

"I am trying to sleep but..." she could not hide her emotion and stopped short of completing her sentence.

"Oh, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Leave it. Thank you. I have nothing to thank you for the favor you have done unto me. But I pray to God that He helps you for this."

"What is wrong Henna? (that was her name, she told me while we were driving in the car). "

She told me she could not tell me the reason behind her. She said she had a terrible story and she had better kept it to herself. She asked me if I would be able to drive her to some place in the morning. I agreed and she told me she would wake me up at about ten oclock and then she would tell me where to go.

They say if you are really sleepy, you will sleep even with the noose for hanging you around your neck. I had played lots of squash the day before and I could simply not resist the sleep. I asked her to close the door if she is awake when the light comes back.

Right at ten oclock, about three and a half hours after I fell asleep, I was awakened by her.

The story you told seems to similar to mine indeed. And yes I am thankful I have not been killed by anyone for helping them. I just woke up. Let me try to write a few paragraphs of the story now.

Yes I believe you, Your experience sound a lot like what happened once upon a time to my ex boyfriend in another country,….

He was an intern at this Medical college , a bright , strapping six footer with an excellent sense of humor. He could strike up a conversation with the sphinx,…and would be the first to help any body in distress men or women alike,…. The one quality for which he paid dearly … with his life. Now that you are here hale and healthy enough to write this tale is proof that whatever happened , it didn’t suck the life out of you like it did to the poor chap,… You should be glad for that,… but it never is completely over…..

could you tell us her nationality and the location ,

i think this un real story ..

When is the next edition of story being published ??

so this happened in Pakistan

Well, you can say but it is still not extempore in the sense that I have all events stored in my mind and I am only describing them as they unfolded. So you can say my description is extempore but what is described happened once upon a time.

it's extempore!

I am just scribbling the words and posting them. But I am keeping a copy also just in case our respected moderator deletes the thread.

Is it already completed or you're writing spontaneously?

You have just seen nothing yet, there is alot more at risk then you might surmise. :) This story has such twists and turns. But obviously my words would hardly ever do justice in describing the even completely.

it's a risky situation out there...

And why do you hope so?

It's a fiction I hope so...

I said yes and she opened the door. She was not wearing her abaya but was covering herself in a sheet.

"I am feeling scared alone." She said.

"Oh, why? It is already morning?" I replied.

"I want you to stay with me in the room."

"Well, OK, I will but I need to sleep and there is only one bed there."

"No problem, I will sleep on the floor."

"OK, if you say so."

We came to the room and I did not find it becoming of my person to let a guest sleep on the floor whilst I enjoyed the luxury of a soft bed.

I pulled up a matress from the store room ( I had several of them for my friends when they would want to stay during the night at my place).

I told her to lie in the bed and I would sleep on the matress.

It is my habit to keep my room light proof (coz I often sleep during the day, and I can not sleep when there is any small amount of light in the room). This time, however, I did not put off the small light right above my bed, the same light I used to keep switched on when I wanted to read while lying down. I thought if she would ask to turn it off, then I would.

A few minutes into our supposed sleep, I opened my eyes to see if she was asleep. I found something strange. She was lying on her back, face up. And she was biting her lower lip between her teeth, as if repressing a strong emotion. Her eyes were full of tears, and the a shimmering line of tears flowing down her face could be seen in the otherwise dim light of the room.

Why the hell is she crying, I thought to myself. After seeing her woeful state, it was difficult for me to sleep and I felt rather obliged to ask the reason.

Before I could ask her anything, she got up and went to the washroom. Whilst she was inside, a text message was received on her cellphone. I could see part of the text, and I did not open it to see it completely. The theme of the message had something to do with her and her husband, something reproachful said to her. She returned and sat on the bed without realizing I was still awake. She was still crying and buried her face in her hands.

btw i encourage you to keep writing and progress that skill ..

but just one comment about the current story , try to use elements match with each other .. example : green eyes , abaya , etc ..

Carry on...

So Sgemund ? what happens after you said yes :) ..

Whers's part III ? Its getting late, I must have my supper reading the climax, isn't it unfair to hold the QL readers without an End ?

your imagination sounds real :)

Ode to the Seks-less Innkeeper :)

bed time story .. I doubt it happens .

It was NOT a dream. It did happen.

You heard the Azaan and woke up realizing it was a dream :)

"Can I trust you?" She asked in a way to suggest that she was asking the question for the second time and that it was actually for reaffirmation. My reply was the same as the first time.

I lived in a hostel because my family was far away. But since I had to share my room with others I had rented another house where I would go only occasionally. It was only two rooms and only one room was furnished. It had a bed, an AC and a chair. The other room only was carpeted and had a TV.

I asked her to stay in the room and sleep in my bed and I myself went to the other room. Although it was extremely hot, I could neither ask her to stay in the room without an AC nor could I suggest that we slept in the same room. I came to the room and turned on both the ceiling and pedestal fans. I took off my shirt in a desperate attempt to fight the heat.

After only ten minutes or so, the girl knocked at my door, i quickly put on the shirt and said yes.

wait a minute...u wrote this all by urself..??

dude you're epic..i honestly though dat u copy pasted it 4rm somewhere else..lyk what many other folks here in QL do..!!

Let me try to write a few more lines if you are anxious. Actually, I am working on something I thought I would write the story whenever I want take a break. Anyways, here you go (wait a few minutes ok).

I'm done..and when exactly are you going to post the nxt part..??

I'm really anxious..:)

Read on and you will find later if this is real or not.

wait..is this a real incident..