s.story 4: Amela

Amela

 

The Elephant’s Arrival

“But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah knows, while you know not.” (Quran 2:216)

Amela Begum was born in a village where the hum of train tracks was an inseparable companion. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on rails was her lullaby, the station her playground, and the scent of coal and metal the fragrance of her childhood. Her father, Majid Sharkar, whom people called Zamindar, was the most affluent man for miles, his name whispered with reverence. Their home was the largest in the region, standing still and proud on sprawling lands, where the sun kissed the horizon, bathing the fields in a golden glow.

Yet, despite his wealth, her father was a strange man. His love for Amela was as grand as his estate, but it was veiled in protection and control. He imposed a condition for her marriage: no man was worthy of her unless he arrived on the back of an elephant, as grand and imposing as the legacy her father had built. This condition, extravagant and odd, became the cornerstone of Amela’s youth, shaping her dreams of a suitor who would one day arrive, towering and noble, upon the back of a magnificent beast they fondly called an elephant.

As she grew, she imagined the day this man would come for her—her prince, her soulmate, someone who would sweep her off her feet and offer her a love as majestic as the stories of old. But love, as life would soon teach her, is as unpredictable as it is powerful.

In 1974, when Amela turned twenty, her father’s condition was fulfilled. Her husband-to-be arrived, not only on the back of an elephant but with a heart just as gorgeous. He was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on, tall, dark, large, expressive eyes filled with warmth and intelligence and his presence radiated strength and gentleness all at once. In that very moment, Amela believed that her destiny was as unblemished as the stories she had grown up with—a love story born of glory.

Their marriage, at first, was a dream—one that anyone could only wish for. Her husband, whom she had loved at first sight, treated her with tenderness. He was patient and attentive, asking for nothing but her companionship. It felt as though Allah had conspired to bring them together, and that nothing could ever come between them. Yet life, in its mysterious ways, always has more in store than we expect or than our human minds can foresee.

Amela soon realized that love, no matter how beautiful, can’t shield you from the realities of life. In the early years, their home was filled with laughter, but as time passed, an unspoken longing crept in—the desire for a child, for another pair of hands to hold, to care for. It was a longing that grew louder with each family gathering, with each festival of Nababarsha or Eid, as the laughter of other children echoed through their home. The absence of a child became a quiet weight on her heart, an ache she couldn’t shake.

They prayed earnestly. Amela visited doctors, consulted healers, performed rituals under the guidance of village elders, and whispered prayers in the quiet of the night. But with each passing month, the hope of pregnancy dissolved into the sorrow of disappointment.

Her husband never voiced his sadness or grief, not about the child or anything else for that matter, but it lingered in the silence between them. He never blamed her, never spoke a word of discontent, but his eyes told her what he could not say. Their love was as strong as ever, but the home they had built together began to feel incomplete, as though something urgent or important was missing—like oxygen. The air is full of it, yet we cannot take it into our hearts fully when we need it most… and eventually, we die.

The Weight of Love

“And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient.” (Quran 2:155)

A decade into their marriage, Amela made the hardest decision of her life. She loved her husband so deeply that his quiet sadness became unbearable. One night, as they sat in the stillness of their home, Amela told him the truth she had been avoiding.

You deserve a family,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You deserve children, the happiness we’ve been denied. You should marry again.” Her husband’s face, usually composed, broke into an expression of raw emotion. For a long moment, he didn’t speak—maybe he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. Then, with a voice thick with unshed tears, he said, “Amela, I want nothing but you. You are enough.” His eyes were locked on Amela’s, searching for something—an answer, perhaps, or some sort of assurance.

His words were both a balm and a wound. She had always known his love was unwavering, but hearing it now, when she felt like she had failed him, made her heart ache with guilt. She realized that, in his eyes, she was everything, she was his sun, his moon, his entire world. Still, she couldn’t run away the burden she carried—the belief that she had denied him the life he deserved.

That night, after hours of silent contemplation, Amela made a decision that would alter both their lives forever. In the stillness of dawn, before the sun had risen, she left. She couldn’t bear to say goodbye. How could she explain that her love had become too heavy, that the very thing that bound them together now felt like chains? She took the first train available at dawn.

She left only a short note, one that barely scratched the surface of her true feelings. How could she express what she herself didn’t fully understand? Her heart ached as she walked away from the only life she had ever known.

Amela fled to another city, a big one, far from the memories that haunted her. There, she shed her identity like a snake sheds its skin. She changed her name, took on menial jobs, and lived a life of anonymity. She became a woman without a past, without a future—just a present filled with survival.

Her family, she assumed, believed her to be dead, and her husband… she didn’t know what he thought. Perhaps he had searched for her, perhaps he had moved on. Even when she disappeared into thin air, she knew in her heart he was the type of man who would never stop loving her.

But life, in its boundless wisdom, gave her room to breathe. The years blurred together, and though they were hard, they were also liberating. She found solace in the simplicity of her existence, in the fact that no one knew her story. She could finally be free of the weight she had carried for so long.

The Return

“So verily, with the hardship, there is relief.” (Quran 94:6)

After many moons, now at seventy, Amela found herself at a train station once again. The familiar sound of the tracks vibrated in her ears, pulling her back to the days of her childhood. She was no longer the young girl who had once dreamed of love and greatness. She was an old woman now, battered by time and life’s many twists and turns.

Across from her sat a young woman, newly married, her eyes bright with hope and promise. The sight of her stirred something in Amela, a memory of who she had once been. Without fully understanding why, Amela, ever so quiet, felt an urge to speak to her, to share the lessons life had taught her.

“I don’t even recognize me anymore” she began softly, her voice laced with the wisdom of years. The young woman looked up, curious, her face open and eager to listen.

Amela told her story—of love found, love lost, and the unexpected twists of fate. The young woman listened intently, her eyes wide with wonder, believing yet disbelieving. Amela didn’t know if the girl would understand her words now, but perhaps, one day, she would.

As the train pulled into the station, Amela looked out at the platform where her life had once begun. For a fleeting moment, she saw herself as a young girl, standing there alone, surrounded by many people—some transient, some not—waiting for her future to unfold. She smiled, a small, sad smile, knowing that life had come full circle.

Before stepping off the train, she turned to the young woman and offered her one final piece of advice: “Remember, life is beautiful, but it’s also unpredictable. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart, even if it takes you to places you never imagined.”

With that, Amela, with her small, weak but firm steps, disappeared into the crowd, just another face in the station, leaving behind a life that felt both distant and ever-present. She was no longer defined by her past, but she carried its lessons with her, like the echo of a train whistle, long after the train has passed.

She had lived a life of both love and loss, but in the end, she had found peace. For she knew now, more than ever, that true love is not about possession—it’s about freedom.

~ October 2024

Disclaimer: This short story is inspired by a post from Gmb Akash on Instagram. Although it is rooted in real-life experiences, all characters and events depicted are entirely fictional. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely coincidental.