Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction however you may find yourself or someone you knew related to the story. This story is dedicated to all those untold stories that never found a voice.
I am Angad. I am a reporter. I come across several stories each day but today, I shiver as I begin to tell you this story. This story is about a friend of mine whose story may not mean anything to you but its important for you to know.
His name was Arif, a tall handsome boy with beautiful hazel eyes. His mother, Raziya was a doctor and his father, Mohammed Hassan was an architect. They were not the typical Muslim family that believed in orthodox. One can say, they were very liberal. But…
He was the only child to his parents, most beloved and pampered kid. He was special after all. Even after all that love and pampering, he was never like other rich brats. I had met him in college. He was my junior.
There was something about him that will make you like him but will also make you jealous. He was such a beautiful young boy with intelligent brains and amazing oration skills. He was polite, humble, helpful and a bit shy. He was, in short, every girl’s dream boy.
We became friends on the very first day of his college and in one year he became like a brother to me. In the free time, if you can’t find him anywhere, it meant he must be in the library. He used to love reading books.
He was a great singer and girls of our college were head over heels for him. He had told me he never got a professional training in singing though he wanted to. Many boys were jealous of him because he was always surrounded by the girls.
… To be continued.