The lady, her face barely visible through the thick lace veil, turned the card over to reveal her destiny, and that of the man she loved.  In a simpler world, their marriage would have been a foregone conclusion.  They loved each other.  Marriage was the only logical way of consummating their bond.  However, the events of the past few days were a testament to just how difficult their love had proved to be.

Their fates were divided by faith.  Or, so it seemed.  She was in love with a Muslim, Aamir, whose father, Khalid, would not accept her for being a Christian.  Islam allowed people of the book to marry, which included Jews, Christians and Muslims.  However, Iraq in the 1920s restricted their freedom in ways the human imagination can hardly ever grasp. And so, their story played out amongst the futility of superstitions and religious prejudices inherent to that time.  In a way, their story was not unique.  Two years earlier, Aamir’s brother had married a Christian girl against the objections of their father.  The marriage was a happy one.  However, a year later, Aamir’s brother fell ill and passed away soon after.  The memories of loss and longing were fresh in Khalid’s mind, while his previous objections to such a marriage hardened with time. He even failed to treat the young widow with any sympathy.

“Abbu, just listen to me!” pleaded Aamir, but his father showed no sense of pity, and did not hear a word of what his beloved son had to say to him. Due to his extreme belief in superstitions, Khalid had made up his mind that his older son’s death, after marrying a Christian girl against his will, was a sign from Allah that Aamir’s marriage would behold some sort of misfortune as well. The son was left devastated, as he was banned from seeing the girl ever again. He thought of his father as too domineering, and wanted to somehow find an outlet for all the anger trapped inside of him. However, what Aamir did not know, was that Khalid shed several tears that night, as he knew he was taking away his son’s happiness. His son, who has stood by him when his older son passed away, and during the period of interminable grief he experienced after the death of his own wife. His son, whom he loved so dearly and could not afford to lose. His son, you see, was all he had left. But he was convinced beyond logic or reason, that if he didn’t intervene, something would go terribly wrong.

The next morning, after failing miserably in another attempt at changing his father’s mind, a depressed Aamir locked himself up in his room and started crying profusely. He started beating himself up, thinking about how his love was snatched away in the blink of an eye. Khalid, who had been sitting outside his locked bedroom door, was now deeply overwhelmed. He felt an electric jolt of agony pass through his veins upon hearing his son weep. But suddenly, everything went silent. Khalid couldn’t hear his son anymore.

“Aamir?” he asked, but there was no reply. “Aamir?” he asked again, but all he could hear was the overpowering sound of silence. Now getting worried, Khalid stood up, and started knocking frantically, “Aamir, open this door, please!”, he begged in deep despair. “Abbu, I can’t do this. I can’t live without her. I love her. She’s all I had. But you have taken her away from me, and I don’t want to live anymore if she is not with me.” Aamir’s replies were shaky and broken. After several such exchanges, Khalid cried out in desperation. “Open the door so I can explain..” But Aamir was inconsolable. “Please, Aamir please, just open this door, you are all I have left in this world.” He just wasn’t convincing enough. After a few brief minutes that felt like an eternity of silence, there was a loud thud, and Khalid broke down the door to find his youngest son lying unconscious on the floor, the big wooden table on top of him and blood oozing out of his mouth and head.

A couple of days passed, Aamir woke up, in the daze, to find his father and the love of his life, Mary, staring down at him. He was in shock that his father had called her, but the sheer joy of seeing her standing beside him took away all his suffering. He questioned his father about his sudden change of heart. Khalid explained that he could not lose his dearest son over anything, he would do anything to make sure he remains content and healthy. But deep inside, Khalid was still sure that their marriage cause nothing but problems to his son. His instincts were screaming back at him. So he decided to go see a fortune teller, along with Aamir and Mary, hoping for a miraculous revelation he could put his faith in.

The fortune teller held the hands of Aamir and Mary, while chanting mystical hymns in her gloomy little chamber. She then took them outside, where Khalid was waiting, and gave Mary three cards. “I have handed you three cards. The card you pick will reveal your destiny. It is in your hands. Choose wisely dearest”, said the fortune teller in a deep voice. All three of them had their eyes fixed on the cards. Mary hesitated for a moment. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Then, reluctantly, she picked a card; Aamir, feeling positive that it would predict only good things for their future; Khalid, hopeful that Aamir would not be disappointed by his decision. Mary turned the card over to reveal that their marriage would be a happy one, until Aamir falls terribly ill one day and passes away just as his older brother did. Once again, superstition had intervened to declare that love was a blind game of cards in any prejudiced society, one that tore lives apart for the sake of religion. But alas, it would be many years before Khalid finally opened his eyes to this reality. He spoke to Aamir and Mary, that cold wintry night, as though they were right beside them, telling them how sorry he was. Aamir and Mary were far gone by then; far into the stretches of infinite blue skies…Their sweet whispers continue to ignite the hearts of those who see no barriers when love greets them in life!