A girl and a boy, who had met online, wove a new tale every day through their messages. Yet neither dared to reveal their true feelings. The boy was a poet, a ghazal writer with a keen eye for subtleties, and the girl was captivated by his words. Every exchange between them shimmered with unspoken emotions; feelings they could neither voice nor escape. Their relationship was like an unfinished book: they savored each sentence but feared turning to the final page.
One day, longing to bridge the distance, the girl decided to write a ghazal. She picked up her pen and spilled the words swirling in her heart onto paper. Though inexperienced, every verse carried fragments of her soul. With trembling hands, she sent the poem to the boy.
He read it. After a moment of silence, he responded with his usual seriousness, critiquing:
“The first and second verses lack connection. The third? The meter is entirely off. I won’t comment on the rest until you fix these.”
The girl, who had hoped for warmth, was shattered by his cold reply. Her voice quivering with hurt and anger, she wrote:
“You’re so tasteless! You understand nothing. This poem was just an excuse to talk to you. You know as well as I do that this isn’t a true ghazal, and you’re not the poet you pretend to be. We were both playing a game, but *you* ruined it!”
The boy stared at her message, stunned. He, who had always understood words better than people, finally grasped the meaning behind hers. After a long silence, he wrote, not from logic, but from his heart:
“You’re right. Instead of reading your poem with my heart, I judged its meter and rhyme. Rereading it now, I see it’s too simple to be weighed by rules… yet too beautiful to be left unfeelingly unread. Forgive me for losing myself in the game.”
The girl smiled, her lingering sorrow easing. She replied:
“My poem may be flawed, but my heart was whole. I wish you’d stay as you are, simple and unpretentious.”
In response, the boy wrote a short ghazal. This time, not to critique, but to speak to her soul. Each word flowed from his heart to hers, settling into a warm silence that held a thousand unspoken words.
From that day on, their poems were no longer excuses to talk, but bridges drawing them closer. Sometimes a single verse began their dialogue; other times, a ghazal ended it. Yet each exchange gifted a piece of their hearts. Their story closed with words of love, but it was an ending that began anew every day.
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Editor's Note:
In Afghanistan, poetry is more than art, it is a way of life. The ghazal, with its rhythmic couplets and themes of love and longing, serves as both a shield and a bridge for unspoken emotions. A Story Between the Lines reflects this tradition, where two souls connect through poetry yet struggle to express their true feelings.
The boy, a skilled ghazal writer, values form over feeling, while the girl, though inexperienced, writes from the heart. Their exchanges mirror a ghazal-structured yet fluid, hesitant yet infinite. In a society where love is often whispered through verse, their story reminds us that poetry is not just about rules but the emotions hidden between the lines.
About the Author:Sohilla Ziaie is an Afghan writer, poet, and social activist with a background in Persian Language and Literature from Kabul University and three semesters in an MBA program. With extensive experience in women's rights advocacy and social development, she has worked in key roles, including Editor-in-Chief of "Merman" magazine and Director of the Afghan Women’s Social and Civil Organization. Writing in Persian, her works, ranging from poetry to social articles and fiction, focus on gender equality, migration, and human rights. Deeply influenced by personal experiences of displacement and societal struggles, she is currently working on a book exploring Afghan women’s resilience. Passionate about amplifying silenced voices, Sahila sees writing as a tool for awareness, resistance, and social change.
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