“So…what do you guys think?” Sobia finished her story, put down the wad of papers and looked around expectantly at the hushed group of Storytellers. Silence had fallen over the cave which the Storytellers’ Lab had taken for their meeting place.

Sobia remembered how excited Huzaifa had been last week when he had discovered the cave at the foot of the Muraad Hill. He had explored it and immediately decided that this would be where the Storytellers would meet every Thursday night to tell each other some new story every week. Huzaifa had made it very clear in the beginning that he meant to be very serious about the Lab and only those people who loved stories and storytelling could join. Sobia had felt privileged to be a part of the group. Huzaifa, the President, was a wonderful writer and a profound thinker, she thought, and being chosen by him to enter his exclusive club was truly an honor. Today was their first meeting and Sobia’s first ever attempt at Storytelling.

Now the President spoke up. “Well Done, Sobia. I think it was very well written. And the idea was original and very different. Good work!” He smiled.

“So does the guy die in the end?” Ahmed asked, with a confused expression on his face.

The cave rang with laughter. Alia spoke up tauntingly, “That’s for us to know, and you to find out, Ahmed.”

“Huzaifa, what were you thinking when you allowed Ahmed to join the Lab?” Sobia asked mischievously, knowing the answer very well.

“He may act stupid at times, Sobia, I agree, but he writes well and his ideas are original. Anyway, so who’s next? Maybe you, Ahmed?” Huzaifa looked at him, smiling briefly.

Ahmed cringed. He hated reading his work out loud. Red was creeping up to color his ears and flush his cheeks as he got up and took out a scrap of paper from his jeans pocket. “It’s not long. Quite short, in fact. I don’t even know if it qualifies as a story.”

“Go ahead. We can decide that.” Alia smiled kindly.

“Ok then. Here goes.” Ahmed croaked.

***

Amna took a deep breath and looked at her hands where the henna curled and curved and looped to form red-brown gorgeous vines and flowers and leaves; she gazed at her red heavy lehnga with gold lapping the part of the dress which kissed the ground and her feet roughly; she sighed as she thought of her bridegroom sitting outside, waiting for her, in the red turban that covered his bald head, in his bursting black sherwani with the buttons struggling to escape and fly from their holes, in his huge eyeglasses and with his blemished pimply nose.

She took a deep breath again. She could do it. Yes, she could. I will fall in love with him, I will fall in love with him, yes, I will fall in love.

She tried to smile in the mirror and started walking towards the wedding hall.

***

“What in the name of heaven?” Alia cried in sudden shock.

Huzaifa smiled. “Good work!”

Sobia asked, “That’s it? As in, that’s the story?”

Ahmed looked at Sobia and nodded. Sobia gazed at him in amazement and wonder.

“This has got to be one of the shortest short stories ever!” Alia’s mouth hung in surprise and admiration.

“But truly very effective. That is what I meant when I told you on our introductory meeting that it is not necessary that a good effective piece of writing should extend over pages and pages. If a story can be written in fewer and more effective words, why not?” Huzaifa explained.

“Impressive!” Sobia grinned at Ahmed, who smiled back, his ears still red

“Cool! Anyway, do you wanna go next, Huzaifa? What do you have for us today?” Alia reclined against the wall to settle in a more comfortable position..

“I have a very special story for you people.” Huzaifa smiled.

“Oooohhhh! Is it a love story? This should be interesting!” Alia exchanged a mischievous smile with Sobia.

Huzaifa rolled his eyes. “Ya, just for the ladies!”

He picked up his brown bag from the floor where it was resting against a gigantic rock which seemed as if it was carved out by a human hand, it was such a perfect oval in shape. He took out some stapled papers, and pushing up his rimless glasses busily, he cleared his throat.

“There was once a surly, fat, relatively stupid man who fell in love with a gorgeous belle of the city of Dipalpur. The man, aware of the stark difference between both their looks and wit…”

Sobia suddenly gasped. Annoyed, Huzaifa exhaled loudly and glared at her questioningly. Sobia’s huge black eyes seemed to be swallowing her lovely round face and her pointing hand was trembling. She was trying to say something but no words escaped from her quivering lips. Huzaifa turned and looked at the entrance of the cave.