After some time, our car finally got repaired, but we didn’t continue towards Osho Family Dhaba. My father told us to wait at a nearby dhaba as they had already left from there. So, we stopped and decided to wait.
But honestly, that 30-minute wait felt like a never-ending year.
My eyes were fixed on the road, desperately searching for their car.
And then—finally—my wait ended.
Their car arrived.
I rushed toward it and opened the door. Raman was sitting inside, with a strange emptiness and fear in his eyes. From the other side, his father got in and hugged him—forcefully.
I stood still, just waiting for my turn. And when Raman turned his face toward me... he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
He was seated in the middle of the back seat. I sat beside him—on his left—while his father was on his right. I gently hugged him.
He leaned closer and whispered in my ear,
“Rabia... sab khatam ho gaya.”
A soft smile formed on my face.
I replied calmly,
“Kuch bhi khatam nahi hua... sab theek hai. Don’t worry.”
He rested his head in my lap and just kept looking into my eyes.
For me, this was something beyond words—an emotion I had never felt before.
That same Raman... who had forgotten everything,
who wasn’t speaking to anyone,
who wasn’t recognizing even his own family...
He called me by my name.
Even if his words were filled with fear and despair,
just being remembered by him was everything to me.
That’s what true love is...
---
Reflection
There are moments in life when time seems to stop—not because of fear, but because of the intensity of love. That day, amidst confusion, memory loss, and fear, Raman remembered me.
Not as a wife.
Not as someone from the past.
But as his Rabia—the one who mattered when nothing else made sense.
It reminded me that true love doesn’t fade with memory, illness, or time. It stays in the soul.
And even when the world slips away…
Love remembers.
