Preface

Some stories begin by chance, and some have already been written by fate.

“O Yaara...” is not just a love story, but a tale of war, sacrifice, separation and hope.

This is the story of Dr. Fazar Mehraj — a fearless, compassionate and self-respecting doctor who always placed her duty above her own desires.

And of Captain Alamgir Shirazi — a soldier who staked everything for his homeland’s freedom, even the most beautiful wish of his own heart.

Amid the turmoil of the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War, when all around were the sounds of gunfire, relationships being torn apart and dreams breaking, two hearts kept finding themselves face to face.

But can love win against war and fate?

Come, walk this journey with me…

Chapter 1

“How thin Fazar has become. Living away from home, you seem to have stopped taking care of yourself altogether. Only if you look after your health will you become a doctor like those English memsahibs. Don’t let yourself end up a patient...”

Amma had barely finished speaking when Fazar, smiling, cut her off.

“Amma, don’t worry so much. I take perfectly good care of myself. I eat on time too. I was a little unwell a few days ago, that’s why I look weak to you. Wait a few more days, then watch — I’ll be exactly as I was.”

Sikandar Sahab stepped forward and said with a smile,

“Amma, please don’t worry. I have written to Ufaq Shirazi to come with a proposal for his son Alam as soon as Fazar’s studies are done.”

Affection welled up in Amma’s eyes.

“Yes, Sheru, if only Fazar would settle into a home of her own. Let me see her home built, then I need nothing more.”

Sikandar Sahab looked lovingly at Fazar.

“You’re right, Amma. My Fazar is a motherless child. I have tried to fulfil her every wish. I only want my girl to be happy forever with Alam.”

Fazar made a face and said,

“Enough, Abba! You’re needlessly thinking so far ahead. I still have a whole year of study left. And anyway, I’m not going to marry that Alam. Have you forgotten how much he used to tease me when we were small? Couldn’t you find any other boy?”

Sikandar Sahab burst out laughing.

“Child, he was only seven then and you were three. And have you forgotten Razia Begum? She loves you so much. She had asked for you for her son Alam when you were still a child. I only told her that Fazar should first complete her studies and become a doctor. I have given my word, and I am fully certain you will be very happy there.”

After a pause he added with a smile,

“Besides, he has also gained a good command of English now, and perhaps...”

Before Sikandar Sahab could finish, Fazar cut in again.

“Enough, Abba! Close this Alam-chapter right here. I’m very sleepy. Now, what did Bakhshi make for dessert?”

Bakhshi answered respectfully,