Lahore ke ek purane sheher mein, Amina ek sharmili ladki thi, jo apni family aur Urdu shayari se pyaar karti thi. Ek shaam, jab sooraj doob raha tha, Amina apne chhat par baithi thi, apni kitaab mein shayari likh rahi thi. Tab usne Ali ko dekha.
Ali, jo naye mohalla mein aaya tha, ek din Amina ke ghar ke paas se guzar raha tha. Usne Amina ko chhat par dekha, aur kuch ajeeb sa mehsoos kiya. Uska chehra uss shaam ki roshni mein kuch alag hi chamak raha tha.
Ali ne apne jazbaat ko dabaate hue, Amina se kaha, "Amina, kya tum mujhe apni shayari suna sakti ho?"
Amina, thoda hairaan, lekin pyaar se muskurate hue, apni kitaab se ek shaayar ka sher sunayi. Ali khamoshi se sunta raha, aur dono ke beech ek khaas rishta ban gaya.
Dheere dheere, Ali aur Amina milte rahe, shayari aur apne jazbaat ek doosre se baant-te rahe. Ek shaam, chaand ke neeche, Ali ne Amina ka haath pakad kar kaha, "Amina, jab maine tumhe shayari padhti dekha tha, tab maine jaana ki tum mere liye kuch khaas ho."
Amina ne uske aankhon mein dekha, aur muskurate hue kaha, "Mujhe bhi yahi mehsoos hota hai, Ali."
Aur aise, Lahore ki galiyon mein, crescent moon ke neeche, dono ka pyaar ek nayi shayari ki tarah khil gaya, jo unki zindagi ke har pal mein jinda rahega.
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