"A Miracle in Waiting"
Amid all this, Mehmat words had indeed lifted a weight from Ramish heart. He wasn't always sad anymore—but his longing to meet Richer burned ever brighter within him. Day and night, he replayed Richer's image in his mind, spoke to his pictures, and relived memories of Richer's touch. Those moments, once just memories, brought him fleeting joy in the midst of daily life.
However, Ramish's roommates began to worry. They noticed he was talking to images, sitting alone, often gazing at the moon. One evening, they gently confronted him, suggesting: "If something's troubling you, share it—or even see a doctor." But each time, Ramish merely smiled and replied, "Nothing's wrong… I just look at the moon when I miss home."
Eventually, Ramish decided to confide in Mehmat—hoping perhaps their conversation and the setting might bring a bit of peace to his restless heart.
"Mehmat, do you have a little time? I need to talk."
"Of course," came the kind reply, "finish work, then let's eat and you can share it all."
When the others left, Mehmat took Ramish to a quiet seaside restaurant. They sat in a peaceful corner: cool breeze, the faint echo of waves, and dusky sky painting the horizon. There was a soothing stillness in the air.
Ramish spoke softly, "This place... it's beautiful. The sea and its breeze—it touches the soul."
Mehmat smiled, "Whenever I feel heavy inside, I come here. The sound of waves quiets the storm within me. Just close your eyes and listen. Want to try?"
Ramish hesitated, "Maybe later…"
But Mehmat encouraged him gently, "Why not now? Turn your chair toward the ocean, close your eyes, and just be—for a moment, set yourself free."
Surrendering, Ramish closed his eyes. Soon, Mehmat heard a quiet sob. He opened his eyes to find Ramish's tears flowing.
He went to him, embraced him, and quietly asked, "Ramish, what's wrong? What hurt you so?"
From his soul, Ramish answered, "The one I love… he is not here. If only he could feel my broken breaths—then perhaps he'd never leave me. This love has driven me nearly mad, Mehmat. If a messenger bird could carry my story to him, and bring me his answer…"
He paused, gazing at the silent waves.
"Every day… every day I wake and look toward the door. I wait for a sound, a knock—maybe he'll come. I stare at the path from which he'd return. It's madness... yet it grows inside me. Maybe a miracle will happen."
Mehmat held him close and said softly, "Ramish, you've truly fallen in love. And your heart is heavier than you let on."
Ramish drew a breath that seemed to lighten his spirit. Mehmat continued gently:
"Don't lose hope. The same God who brought you to him before—who gave you wings to fly in the night—he will bring you together again. Miracles happen, and for true love, new paths often appear."
A subtle light appeared in Ramish's tear-filled eyes, as if a broken world had begun to mend. With a faint smile he said:
"If that miracle happens again… my nights will shine."
Mehmat placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "They will… Dinner's here—shall we eat?"
Ramish nodded softly.
They ate in quiet harmony, the sea breeze murmuring around them like a natural hymn witnessing their bond. After a few moments, Mehmat looked at Ramish and said:
"Listen, sometimes love demands long waits, and the heart grows restless. But if you begin to lose heart—that's when love starts to weaken. When waiting becomes a burden, love drifts away."
Smiling, Mehmat,s recited a verse:
"Drink, Ramish, even the bitterness of waiting with a smile…
For nature has hidden joy within the endurance of waiting."
Ramish looked at him gratefully—the burden on his heart eased. "Yes… we'll eat. And I'll try to find calm." Mehmat' voice was filled with unwavering belief.
"Just imagine the joy when you finally meet—there's no measure for it," he added.
Ramish's heart trembled. "When he's in front of me, I won't have words… I'll just look at him."
That evening, they walked along the water's edge—salt-sprayed wind, the sound of waves, and two friends pouring their souls into conversation—time felt suspended.
Before parting, Ramish said quietly, "We should go."
"Right," Mehmat replied softly. "I'll walk you back."
"No," Ramish halted him. "You've already done so much for me. I'll walk the rest."
Mehmat insisted, but ultimately saw him to his building. They stood at the entrance as Ramish placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you, Mehmat—for your courage, your strength."
Mehmat squeezed his shoulder. "Whenever you feel low, just tell me. We'll talk… we will."
Ramish nodded, then entered, his silhouette swallowed by the building's doorway. Mehmat watched until he disappeared, praying inwardly:
"O God… grant love the joy of union—it pains deeply when hearts are separated."