White Roses Episode 03

 

White Roses as symbol of love 

Relationship__Rivalship__Friendship__Enmityship

 

The futile yearning of the heart, the hopeless cries of the body.

Just a few more days, my love, just a few more days.

A large bungalow-style house, with two guards standing outside. A little further away, there's another bungalow where guards can also be seen. One of these bungalows, which is quite lavish and serves as evidence of the residents' wealth, has "Sikandar House" written on a signboard. Upon entering the bungalow, you'll notice a large lawn filled with rose bushes, where a man is busy trimming the plants. Three cars are parked outside, one of which has clothes draped over it, while the other two are in regular use. There's a fence on one side of the lawn, where an animal enclosure can be seen. At the back of the house, there's a large swimming pool.

Upon entering the lounge, it feels like no one is present in the house. Passing through the lounge, the encounter with the incoming person happens from a room where the entire house appears to be running on an LCD screen. The house is fitted with cameras, so all the servants carry out their duties meticulously. 

A woman named Kausar is preparing lunch in the kitchen, accompanied by another man, Saleem, who is assisting her.

Tick tock tick tock. A 24-year-old girl wearing a heal, Zimal Sikander, is seen coming down the stairs. She carries a bag in her hand and is dressed in a shirt and jeans, with her hair untied. Following closely behind her is a 27-year-old young man, Tabish Sikander, who comes downstairs with a girl named Sabeen. They are a married couple. The girl is carrying a newborn baby.

They all head towards the dining table.

Saleem starts serving the food in front of them.

"Where's Dad?" Zimal asks Saleem.

"Sahib must be in the study room," Saleem responds, still standing with his hands behind his back, showing deference. Zimal gets up and heads towards the study room. She opens the door and finds her father engrossed in his work.

"Dad, come out for lunch. You can finish this later," she says.

The middle-aged man continues to ignore his daughter's words, sitting there without acknowledging her presence, until she stands beside him.

"All your efforts will be in vain. There's no point in your futile running around for both you and Niaz Uncle," she thinks to herself.

Ibrahim Sikander took off his glasses and placed them on the table, casting a sympathetic glance at his daughter before standing up.

"Let's go." And bring her along, motioning towards the door.

The dining table was set, but there were still two people yet to arrive.

Another girl comes into view.

"Where are they?" Ibrahim's voice made the girl stop in her tracks.

"I'll call her," she replied, turning back upon hearing Ibrahim's voice from behind. His younger daughter, Amar, was heading back into the room.

Amar knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" a voice came from inside.

"It's me."

The door opened, and Samaira stood there.

"Come on, everyone is having lunch," Samaira adjusted her dupatta on her head, and now both of them headed towards the dining table. Everyone was having lunch. After finishing lunch, Samaira went back to her room. After her departure, Tabish disappeared from the scene with his wife and child. Now only Ibrahim, Zimal, and Amar were left there. The three of them then entered the lounge.

Zimal was busy showing something to Amar on her mobile phone. Amar smiled. They were both engrossed in their conversation when a servant arrived.

"Sahib, Mr. Niaz and Mr. Zakariya have arrived," the servant announced.

"Send them in, why did you keep them waiting outside?" Ibrahim scolded the servant. Zimal and Amar got up and went back to their rooms.

"Yes, Sahib, right away," the servant said, then ushered the guests inside like a host, accompanying them to their designated rooms before returning.

"Please come... please come," Ibrahim stood up to greet them.

After exchanging greetings, Ibrahim seated them and then went to the kitchen himself.

"Saleem! Saleem!" he called out. Saleem rushed in.

"Prepare some tea... and also make some snacks to go with it... something delicious," Ibrahim instructed.

"Yes, Sahib," Saleem nodded and hurried off to the kitchen.

When Ibrahim returned, he found them engaged in conversation. Upon his arrival, Zakariya and Niaz directed their attention towards him.

"Niaz, how did you come?" Ibrahim inquired.

"You know, the nature of the case is such that I had to come inevitably. And I brought Zakariya along too," Niaz replied.

"I don't think anything will come out of it, but Zakariya, don't worry. I promise you that this case won't have any impact on our relationship," Ibrahim reassured Zakariya, expressing hope that their friendship would remain strong.

"We shouldn't even expect any impact," Zakariya replied with a smile.

"Do something for my son at least," Niaz addressed both of them.

"Niaz, honestly, I didn't expect your son to be involved in this matter. Your son turned out to be quite a skilled player in this game," Ibrahim said, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

"My son was indeed a skilled player in this matter, but this time, our friend turned out to be our enemy," Niaz said, looking towards Zakariya.

"If the enemy becomes a friend, then the thrill of the game doubles, Niaz. Let's see who wins this game: your son or my daughter!" Zakariya chuckled.

The mobile phone rang. Niaz went outside to take the call and handled the conversation. The servant entered with the tea trolley and started serving tea.

Niaz returned after finishing the call.

"Whose call was it?" Ibrahim asked.

"It was from Burhan. He's still as arrogant as ever," Niaz replied angrily.

"The column is down... the column is down," Zakariya reassured him.

"What did he do?" Ibrahim inquired.

"Cheap girl! I don't know what's so special about her that he still wants her. And he..." Niaz stopped talking upon seeing Zakariya.

"And what about him?" Ibrahim inquired.

"He wants to meet Kashmala," Niaz's tone turned cold.

"Well, if he wants to meet her, then let them meet. Kashmala will handle it once," Zakariya said in a calm tone.

"Behram has prohibited it, but I have given permission from my side. If the case is in his hands, then what can I do? Both of them are determined," Niaz said helplessly.

"Everything will be fine, don't worry, both of you," Ibrahim reassured them.

"Saleem!" Ibrahim called out again. Saleem came over.

"Have you set the table?"

"Yes, Sahib! The food is ready. Whenever you say, we'll serve it."

"Alright, you can start serving. We'll be there in two minutes. And beware of any delays," Ibrahim instructed. After having their meal, they both left.

Once Ibrahim, Niaz, and Zakariya finished, Ibrahim called for his son.

Kausar opened the door to Tabish's room and entered, lowering her gaze upon seeing him.

"Sir, Sahib are calling you."

"I'm coming, you can go," he replied with a slight smile.

When he came out, he noticed Ibrahim waiting for him.

"Come here," Ibrahim called out.

"I was on my way to you," Tabish said.

"But your face was towards the kitchen," remarked Ibrahim.

"No, it's nothing like that. I just wanted to tell someone something," Tabish replied.

"Who were you trying to tell?" Ibrahim inquired.

At that moment, Zimal joined them and sat down. Kausar handed her a glass of water.

"When entering someone's room, it's polite to knock," Tabish said, looking down. Kausar understood that this advice was directed towards her. She left the room.

"Did you talk to Sultana?" Ibrahim asked Tabish and Zimal.

"I didn't," Zimal replied, while Tabish remained silent, bowing his head.

"Sultan talks to them," Tabish didn't mention his encounter.

"I'm not discussing that; we'll see when he comes. You go ahead and talk," Ibrahim's voice hardened. Tabish stood up.

"Did you call me here to ask about this? I left my important work for this?" Tabish retorted.

"Speak respectfully. I'm your father," Ibrahim replied.

"I'm not a child anymore. I'm also a father now," Zimal placed his hand on Tabish's shoulder.

"Brother," Tabish softened his tone.

But now his mood had changed.

"Dad, I don't understand why your name is involved in every sin? In breaking every lawful relationship and forging every unlawful one!"

"And I still don't understand how you've developed such a foul mouth," Ibrahim said.

Hearing the commotion, Sabeen and Amar also came outside.

"Because of your words," Tabish said. 

Ibrahim stepping forward and delivering a strong slap to Tabish's face. Tabish staggered but remained silent. Zimal stepped forward, holding him, and Sabeen joined them too. However, Tabish shrugged them off.

"Dad, brother isn't a child. You shouldn't control him by hitting him like this." Zimal, try to talk to Dad in a more understanding manner.

"It's okay, Zimal. Let them do what they do," Tabish said, dismissing his sister.

"Still, look at how this boy talks! They learn from their elders. Just by looking at you, even Sultan loses his temper. You're the one who's spoiled him," Ibrahim continued, focusing on his son.

"Yes, I'm the one who's spoiled him," Tabish replied in a soft tone. "I'll accept it all."

"Tabish," Sabeen tried to intervene.

"No, no, you see, it's your husband's influence. Tomorrow, your son will also learn all this from him," Ibrahim lashed out at Sabeen.

Sabeen kept her eyes downcast, standing still.

"Please, Dad, what's my wife's fault? You can't talk to her like that," Tabish grabbed Sebeen's hand and led her to their room.

Amar also followed them into the room.

"See that? Ibrahim said to Zimal, noticing that apart from them, there was no one else present in the room.

Zimal poured water into a glass, offered it to her father, then left the room herself.

The servants had hidden away somewhere in the house. Silence engulfed the house once again.

Amar stood outside Tabish's room. He knocked, and Sabeen opened the door.

"Brother," Amar addressed Tabish, "Money..."

Tabish handed over the money to Amar.

"Brother, the fee needs to be deposited. It's for the second semester."

"How much?"

"Fifteen thousand."

Tabish handed over more money to her.

"Should I take him for a little while?" Amar looked at baby, lying on the bed, while asking.

"Yeah. Just make sure he doesn't get cranky," Sabeen granted permission.

"Okay." Amar happily lifted the child into her arms.

"Oh my God! He's so cute," Amar exclaimed.

"Get ready to tell Samaira. We have to go to the hospital. It's time," Tabish informed Amar.

"Okay, I'll tell her." Amar carried the child towards Samaira's room.

"Look at him," Amar said to Samaira with joy as she held the child.

"He's adorable, isn't he?"

"Yes, very much."

"Tabish Bhai was saying to get ready, we need to go to the hospital," Amar said, taking the child back from his lap.

"Okay." Samaira was now wearing her abaya. Amar sat down to play with the child.

"Amar, can I ask you something?" Samaira inquired.

"Yes, sure, go ahead," Amar replied.

"What happened just now? Is everything alright? Why was there so much noise?" Samaira questioned.

"Oh, it was just Dad scolding Saleem. Nothing serious," Amar reassured her.

"Okay," Samaira smiled and went outside.

Samaira went outside. Saleem appeared, accompanied by Kausar.

"Sahib should not treat their young son like that. They should not have been scolded." Kausar's voice reached Samaira's ears.

"Yes, you're right. They are influential people. Now who will make them understand?" 

Saleem turned around and saw that Samaira was standing right there; perhaps she had heard everything

"Do you need anything, sis?" Saleem asked her.

"No, I don't need anything. I'm waiting for Tabish," Samaira replied.

"I'll bring them here," Saleem offered.

"Let them be, Saleem."

"Baji, please don't tell Sahib about this. I'm a poor man. I just spoke casually."

"I didn't hear anything, Saleem," Samaira said in a saddened tone.

Saleem left. She remained standing there, looking lost.

"Indeed, they are my own and others are others. Somewhere, somehow, others always make it clear that they are others. I've always been truthful to Amar, so why did she lie? Didn't she have enough trust in me that I wouldn't reveal their family matters? Well, it's none of my business. Everyone has their own responsibilities."

No one can discern the expressions behind the veil on her face.

"Samaira, are you ready?" Tabish's voice shattered her train of thoughts.

"Yes."

"Let's go then. I'm leaving. You come too."

"Yes."

They were both heading to the hospital now.

I agree that in the clamor of days and nights

Time slowly makes one forget every sorrow

Tabish was handling the duty of a senior doctor in the hospital. As he entered the hospital, he proceeded towards the emergency ward with Samaira, where patients were sitting on benches. Along with their arrival, two nurses entered the ward.

"Samaira, thet will help you with this. Come with them, this way." (Tabish gestured towards the labor room) "There's a case today."

"Yes." Samaira stood still.

"Let's go," Nurse said.

Upon the nurse's voice, she moved forward.

The labor room was empty, perhaps the patient hadn't arrived yet.

"You both stay here; I'll ask Tabish how long until the patient arrives." Saying this, Samaira went out.

"Sir!" Tabish, who was talking to a nurse, turned his attention towards Samaira's "sir."

"What are you doing here?" Tabish looked at her and asked.

"The patient hasn't arrived yet; I was just saying that if there's time, I'll attend to another patient." Samaira replied.

Tabish glanced at Samaira and then motioned towards the file in the nurse's hand, indicating her to go.

"Samaira, come with me." Tabish brought her to his room.

"Sit down." He courteously gestured her to a chair and himself sat on a rocking chair.

"Samaira... It's not a delivery case."

"What?" Sameera asked in surprise.

"I don't know... I don't know how you'll react, but... no one else can do this except you."

"I don't understand. Samaira sat straight. You can speak openly. I won't mind."

"Okay, Samaira... He's the son of Dad's friend, he needs his wife's abortion done."

"Sir... Are you sure about this? How did you even think that I'll handle this task?" Samaira stood up.

Tabish came closer to her.

"Samaira... It's alright. I'm not forcing you." He motioned for Samaira to sit back down, and he himself turned his chair to face hers, sitting beside her.

"I'll never force you."

"But why did you send me to the labor room then?" Samaira asked sternly.

"Listen to me! Dad actually wanted to keep this matter confidential. So he consulted with your dad, and he said that Samaira... she'll handle everything."

"My dad?"

"Yes... I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was afraid you might misunderstand Uncle Zakariya."

"Misunderstand? Why would I start suspecting him? In fact, when my dad suggested me, didn't you award him something? A reward? Recognition? Anything?"

Tabish was looking through the veil covering his face, tears slowly trickling down from his eyes.

"So, you won't do this?" Tabish wanted to confirm.

"Not even if I die."

"It's okay." They both remained silent for a couple of minutes.

"Will you complain to dad about me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because this boy's father is your dad's friend."

"Not even if I die." Tabish adopted Samaira's tone. Samaira chuckled from behind her veil. Tabish gestured towards a tissue, which she took, wiping away her tears with a smile. There was a knock on the door, and someone entered.

"Sir, there's someone named Khawar here, saying he had an appointment with you regarding his procedure."

"Send him in."

"Okay, sir."

"Is that him?" Samaira inquired of Tabish. Tabish nodded in confirmation, motioning for Khawar to come in, whom he then welcomed and seated in his chair. And he stood up and sat back in his seat.

The door opened, and a man and a woman entered. Both appeared wealthy and educated from their demeanor. Samaira stood up, taken aback, but Tabish signaled her to sit back down, and she complied.

"Assalamualaikum." Khawar greeted Tabish with a handshake. Tabish stood up.

"Please, have a seat." Tabish gestured for him to sit on the chair opposite Samaira's. The woman accompanying him sat on the sofa placed in the room. Samaira kept glancing at them repeatedly.

"I wonder... what compulsion she must be under. Poor thing." Samaira thought to herself.

"Mr. Khawar, this is Dr. Samaira, the gynecologist." Tabish introduced Sameera to Khawar.

"Oh." Khawar glanced at her briefly.

"How long do I have to wait here?" Khawar asked impatiently.

"I'm just discussing matters with Dr. Saleha right now. She'll let you know the estimated time shortly." Tabish replied.

"Won't she be able to do this job?" Khawar looked at Samaira.

"No, no. I'll inform you shortly how much time it will take. Excuse me." Tabish said and left the room.

Khawar took out his mobile from his pocket, and his busy schedule was visible on the screen. Samaira sat there, looking confusedly at both of them.

"What's your name?" Samaira asked the woman, who seemed quite flustered.

"Sarah."

"If you don't mind, may I ask why you want to undergo the procedure?" Samaira asked the next question.

Sarah glanced at Khawar, who looked at Samaira after putting his phone away.

"It's a family matter." Khawar replied. Samaira couldn't say anything. Khawar got busy with his phone again.

Sarah looked at Samaira and within moments burst into tears, trying to hide them. Samaira stood up, went to her, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

"Can't you see the condition of your wife?" Samaira scolded Khawar. Khawar stood up. Samaira got scared.

"Maybe you're deaf. This is our personal matter; it would be better if you don't interfere. And both of us are doing this by our own consent."

Tabish entered.

"What's going on?" He looked at Khawar standing and Sarah crying, then asked.

"Who is this? Tell him to stay away from my wife." Khawar motioned Samaira to leave.

"Please sit down. Actually, she doesn't know you, maybe that's why." Tabish reassured Khawar.

"It's alright. Samaira, take Sarah to Dr. Saleha. I've explained everything to her. They are satisfied." Tabish instructed Samaira, who then took Sarah and left the room.

"What would you like? Coffee, tea, juice?" Tabish asked with a fake smile.

"Just give me some coffee."

"Okay." Saying this, Tabish pressed the intercom button.

"Send some coffee... just coffee, nothing else... one." Tabish placed the order. Khawar didn't pay attention to his request.

"So, tell me, how is Uncle Ibrahim? And how's our Sultan?" Khawar asked Tabish about the well-being of their mutual acquaintances.

"Alhamdulillah, they're all fine." Tabish replied.

Then they continued to exchange small talk. A boy brought the coffee. Tabish smiled upon seeing him.

"Thank you." Tabish picked up the coffee tray and moved it towards Khawar, then sent the boy back.

Khawar took a sip of the coffee and immediately poured it back into the cup.

"Ugh... this tastes terrible." Khawar quickly cleared his throat, and wiped his mouth with a tissue. 

"This is how it is in hospitals, sir. It's the same everywhere." Tabish smiled.

"I don't know how you people manage here. I wish the person who made this coffee was here, I'd throw it on their face." Khawar said angrily.

"And how long will it take me to be done here?"

"It will take about three to four hours." Tabish explained calmly.

"That's why I ordered coffee for you." Tabish's sarcastic tone went unnoticed by Khawar, who just chuckled.

Samaira left Sarah with Dr. Saleha and came out. Outside, she ran into Dr. Rubina.

"Oh, you're here?" Samaira asked Dr. Rubina with delight.

"Samaira?" Dr. Rubina recognized her even behind the veil but asked for reassurance. Upon Dr. Rubina's inquiry, Samaira removed her veil. Dr. Rubina smiled at her. Dr. Rubina and Naheed shared a deep friendship.

"How are your mother and sisters?" Dr. Rubina asked. Both of them were facing towards the room where Dr. Saleha was written outside on a board. 

"Mother and sisters are perfectly fine. How's Manal? And how are you here?"

"Manal is also fine. She just had her ninth grade exams. I came here for work. It's done now, so I'll be heading back to Mianwali."

"I'll also come there for a day or two." Sameera informed me.

"That's good. And your sister... Anisa... she's quite mischievous. Is she still the same?"

"She hasn't changed. Everything else may change, but her mischievousness won't." Rubina laughed.

"I'll make sure to introduce her to you when I come to Mianwali. She'll be delighted. She's also a fan of yours."

"Oh really? She gets shy when she sees me."

"But she reads a list of your appreciation in front of me."

"She respects me." Rubina said, bowing her head.

"Yes," Samaira smiled.

"If you were to tell me that you've arrived here, you would have had an opportunity for humility."

"Oh no, it's alright. I'm just about to leave anyway. If Ahmed arrives, I'll go." She mentioned her husband.

"Is your uncle also coming?"

"Yes, I came with them. They're about to arrive. They called for me."

"Okay."

Rubina took off her glasses, placed them in her bag, put on her cloak, grabbed some papers, and placed the bag on her shoulder before leaving. As she left, she didn't forget to say "Allah Hafiz" to Sameera.

Samaira got busy watching the patients. She remained engrossed there for quite some time, engaging in conversations with a child of about four years old, feeling quite fortunate to interact with him.

Suddenly, her mobile beeped, and a smile spread across her lips.

"Sultan? How are you?"

"How could I be fine without you?"

"Why did you call?"

"I'm not okay without you. That's why I'm coming. To get answers to my questions."

"Most welcome."

"I'm coming for 'you' now," he clarified.

Samaira fell silent.

"A beautiful face looks sad, the world seems sad. Samaira."

"Sultan. Please inform at home."

"To whom?" 

"Your dad for sure."

"I'll hang up; the flight announcement has been made." With that, he ended the call. Samaira looked at her phone, where the contact had been disconnected.

She looked around, perhaps the child had gone.

"Where did he go?" She started looking for him. When she entered the gallery, she saw that someone had picked up the child, perhaps he was his father. She moved forward.

"Excuse me?" The person turned at Samaira's voice.

Samaira took a step back.

"Khawar? Is this your son?" She asked involuntarily. The child reached out his hand towards Samaira.

In Khawar's eyes, she saw contempt for herself.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else." She left from there as they spoke.

It was the end of the afternoon. Khawar was now refusing to wait any longer. Dr. Saleha came out of the room.

Tabish was sitting outside the labor room. When he saw Saleha, he stood up.

"What happened?"

"I think there was some other issue with that girl, and her husband hid it from us."

"What kind of issue?"

"Call Samaira, please."

"Okay."

Tabish was now wandering around the entire hospital looking for Samaira. He couldn't find her anywhere. Finally, he reached the reception.

"Where is Dr. Samaira?" Tabish asked the receptionist.

"Dr. Samaira has gone to the basement."

"Okay, please call her here."

"Okay."

After a short while, Samaira arrived. Tabish brought her to where Saleha was.

"And how much longer will it take?" Tabeesh asked Saleha.

"I didn't perform any operation. I informed you in a state of distress," Saleha replied.

"Then why have you been taking so long?" Tabish scolded Saleha.

"This girl's life is at risk," Saleha replied.

"So what will you do now?"

"Tell her husband to wait." Saying this, Saleha pulled Samaira and took her away.

"Samaira was thinking about convincing her husband that by doing this, his wife could die. Who knows, he might agree."

"Convince him. Both of you. I have already distanced myself from this matter long ago. You and Tabish were enthusiastic about it, now you're stuck in it."

"Please Samaira. Do it today. Then I'll help you anytime." Saleha pleaded, clasping her hands together.

"I don't want to get involved in all this." Samaira clearly refused.

"You need to talk to her husband. Please, just do it. Save an innocent life. Just by talking, her life could be saved. Just by talking."

"You're emotionally blackmailing me now," Samaira said, glaring at her.

"Please. Please. Please." 

"Okay, okay. Fine."

When she came out with Sarah's medical reports, she saw Tabish still sitting there. She sighed and approached Khawar.

"Listen to me." she addressed him, turning to face him.

Samaira scrutinized him from head to toe. She looked closely at his expensive belt.

"Come with me to my office. We need to talk about your wife's case."

He followed her, with the child in tow, into the room. They both sat down.

"Mr. Khawar... your wife's reports have come in. I wanted to discuss them with you."

"Okay." The child left his lap and stood beside Samaira.

"Did you attend the last time's postpartum checkup?"

"Yes." He replied in a professional manner.

"You didn't mention it. How noble of you to proudly escort your wife for an abortion." Samaira's words were harsh, but her tone was soft. Her eyes were fixed on the reports.

"In what tone are you speaking? Speak politely," he said in a loud voice.

"Lower your voice and speak. My throat works just fine, and it's quite loud too."

"Speak with respect, girl. You might not know who I am."

"Perhaps not, certainly. I may not know who you are in reality. But still, it is my duty to try to explain to you one last time that by doing this to your wife, not only are you putting her life in danger, but you are also depriving your son of his mother. It doesn't matter if you have two children or three or four; what difference does it make if you have one child or two? Even if there are only four children, they don't seem bad."

"I told you this is our personal matter," he said.

"I remember."

"So, please don't interfere."

"You'll need an expert doctor for this task, and in this hospital, you won't find anyone else but me," Samaira said, putting him in a difficult position. Khawar scratched his beard.

"And if the other doctors were to find out about this, imagine what would happen to your wife, it may be proved as septic abortion." Samaira added, noting his changing expressions, further exacerbating his distress.

"Now what?" He was visibly agitated, fidgeting in his seat.

"Now, instead of resorting to violence, think about it carefully, sir. She's your child's mother. She's someone's daughter. If someone were to do this to your daughter tomorrow, how would you feel?"

Khawar seemed startled. He involuntarily glanced at Samaira, who was speaking affectionately to his son.

"Why do you do this? Do you get anything out of it? Giving pain only results in pain. So why inflict it? Love is beautiful too. Why not choose that?"

Samaira opened her arms wide and embraced the child, who also seemed very affectionate.

"What's your name?" Samaira asked the child.

"Arham," Khawar replied.

"I didn't ask you," she retorted.

She got up and left. Khawar remained lost in his thoughts of the past for a while longer. 

"Will you take your wife with you or did you intend to stay here tonight?" When Samaira returned, she saw him still sitting there. She began to gather her belongings.

"Are you leaving?" He asked her. 

"Yes, my duty time is over."

"I was also about to leave."

"Good."

"What time will you come tomorrow?" Khawar asked her. She stopped, smiled for a moment.

"Perhaps today was my last day."

"Are you transferring?"

"I'm not from this city."

"So if I want to meet you, where should I go?"

"Mianwali. You must have heard the name."

She was no longer stopped. She had left. Perhaps she was going far away. Very far. Her accent, demeanor, and voice echoed repeatedly. Did she blow the magic or show him the mirror?

Our home has been ruined for a long time

But I've heard that the house still remains

It was almost evening when they all reached Lahore. Mahenoor and Kabeer were also present at home. Mahenoor was looking at the dinner in the kitchen, which she had prepared with some difficulty. She wiped her hands on the apron and came out of the kitchen.

"Kabeer! Kabeer... looks like Kashmala and everyone else have arrived. Let's go and open the door."

"Okay... I'm going." Kabeer replied. He got up from the sofa where he was watching a movie. Upon Mahnoor's insistence, he went outside. When he looked, indeed everyone had arrived. He opened the gate, and two cars entered. Everyone stepped out. Kabeer led them inside.

"We'll take the luggage later or tomorrow," Kabeer told them.

They all went inside.

Aneesa went straight to her room as soon as she arrived, while the rest settled on the sofa in the lounge.

Mahenoor stepped forward and hugged her sister. She was happy to see her.

"Are you all tired? I'll start preparing dinner, you can eat and then rest," Mahenoor said, feigning concern.

"No... I'll go." Omar stood up.

"Oh, come on. You've just arrived, at least have dinner before you leave." Kabeer stopped Omar.

He hesitated but stayed.

"Come on, everyone." Mahenoor led them towards the dining table and started placing the food in front of them. Everyone was present.

"I'll call Aneesa." Mahenoor went towards Aneesa's room.

When she entered, she saw Aneesa lying sideways on the bed, with a sullen expression. Two gajray lay on the bedside table, which she had been admiring just a while ago.

"Come, have dinner, then you can rest," Mahenoor said, but Aneesa didn't respond.

"Get up, can't you hear me?" Mahenoor shook her.

"I'm not coming," Aneesa replied flatly.

"Why? Don't you feel hungry?"

"I do."

"Then come. Everyone is eating. You should too. It doesn't look good for you to lie down like this."

"I'm not separate from this world. I'm tired. Bring my food here."

Mahenoor found her tone strange. "What's wrong? Sit up here." (She was lying with her face covered.) "Are you crying?"

"No, I'm just tired."

"Then sit up here if you're not crying."

Mahenoor approached her and stood by her head, trying to lift it up, but she kept her head down and continued crying silently, her tears soaking the bedsheet.

"What's wrong?" Mahenoor sat beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Why are you crying? Did something happen? Did Omar say something?" She kept crying and didn't respond to any of Mahenoor's questions.

After a while, Mahenoor kept asking her the reason for her tears, trying every possible question she could think of that might have triggered her sadness, but Aneesa remained silent. It wasn't like she asked a specific question and Aneesa didn't have a liking for Mahenoor's questions. It wasn't anywhere. It wasn't anywhere at all. And maybe if Mahenoor had asked that question, she would have found her answer.

Kabeer entered the room.

Aneesa, upon noticing Kabeer's presence, quickly lay down properly on the bed, covering herself with the blanket.

"What happened to her?" Kabeer seemed concerned and ask Mahenoor. 

"I don't know what's wrong with her. She's not saying anything," Mahenoor replied, feeling defeated.

"Didn't you ask her?"

"It's not like I haven't asked her, but it's up to the girl to tell what's wrong." Mahenoor said, moving closer to Aneesa and sitting on the bed beside her.

"Ask with love," Kabeer signaled to Mahnoor.

"I've already asked with love. You go, I'll handle her. Otherwise, Kashmala might come here as well," Mahenoor replied.

Kabeer left, and Mahenoor removed the blanket from her. She gently ran her fingers through her hair. Aneesa rested her head in her lap.

"What's wrong?" Mahenoor asked softly, running her fingers through her hair.

"I felt like crying," Aneesa replied.

"Don't lie."

"Mahenoor, tell Omar to stay tonight," Aneesa said.

"Omar? He'll probably eat and leave," Mahenoor replied.

"No, tell him not to go. My heart isn't accepting it," Aneesa insisted.

"But why are you crying?" Mahenoor asked.

"I have a headache," Aneesa replied.

"That's why I said to eat first and then rest," Mahenoor reminded her.

"Will you tell Omar not to leave?" Aneesa asked. Meanwhile, Kashmala entered the room with Rania. They had finished eating. Aneesa's words echoed in Kashmala's ears.

"Mahenoor, you go and eat. I'll bring him to the room," Kashmala said.

Aneesa glanced at Kashmala, then lay straight and covered herself with the blanket up to her nose. Kashmala ushered Rania to lie beside Aneesa and left to bring food for Aneesa. Mahenoor followed her.

Kashmala entered the room with a tray of food and closed the door.

"Will you stop him tonight? What will you do tomorrow?" Kashmala asked, noticing Aneesa's apprehensive demeanor.

She lay there trembling.

"Get up. Eat your food," Kashmala said.

She sat up and started to eat.

"I thought you understood my point, but it seems my words passed over you".

"What will you do with your life? Will you spend it mourning Omar's sorrow? Will you keep crying over his grief?"

"Now don't move forward. Just keep sitting there and keep crying like this." Kashmala mocked her. She kept eating and listening to her words.

"Will you say something?" Kashmala snapped.

"I had already told you to stay away from Omar... But still... My heart wants to slap you and sentence that "Omar" to life imprisonment."

"Someone here has sentenced me to life imprisonment." Aneesa didn't say anything out loud, but a thought crossed her mind. If she had spoken, by now Kashmala's handprint would have been imprinted on her cheek. She kept eating silently, occasionally a tear dropped from her eye.

"What good will crying do now? He's going to his mother, because of whom you've left a void in his life."

"Then don't talk to me about it anymore." Finally, she said.

"I'm just trying to make you understand, so you can see Omar's true face. Please, just let go of him now."

She finished her meal and lay back down. Kashmala picked up the tray and stood up to take it back to the kitchen.

When Aneesa changed her posture, Rania tried to stand up with her support. In anger, she slapped Rania on the cheek and turned her face away. Rania first looked around and then began to cry out loud. Aneesa lifted the pillow and placed it above her ears.

When Kashmala came in, she saw Rania crying. Kashmala lifted Rania and looked at her.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Rania gently touched her cheek and gestured towards Aneesa.

Kashmala pulled the blanket from her.

"Why did you hit Rania, you dirty mouth?" But she didn't flinch a bit. Kashmala took Rania outside. Omar was sitting outside.

"Aren't you going home?" Kashmala asked him, seeing him lying comfortably on the sofa.

He got up and sat down.

"Mahenoor has hinted that I should stay tonight."

"Oh!"

"What happened to her?" Khizar saw Rania's swollen eyes and took her into his arms.

"Maybe she's been beaten by Aneesa." Kashmala said in a bitter tone.

"Oh sister, It seems like she has enmity with children." Khizar flicked a fly off her nose.

"Exactly." Kashmala said.

"She doesn't like children." Omar looked at him upon his comment.

"I don't know why, even though children are usually cute." 

"Maybe his preferences change over time." - Kashmala added.

"Oh, Bhabhi, are you talking about her marriage?" - Khizar asked in a teasing manner.

"I don't know if she likes boys or not. Nowadays, there's no boy in the market for Aneesa's pair." Khizar joked.

Omar didn't want to discuss it, but Khizar kept teasing Ineesa by mentioning him repeatedly, keeping her attention on him.

"Allah is the ultimate provider, your sister's husband. I will pray that she finds a husband who is not like him, crazy, crying all the time, and as handsome and dear to me as I am, because there is no one more handsome than me," he said.

"Allah is the owner of your sister, Bhabhi. I'll pray that she finds a crazy, crying, always-teary, and as handsome and dear husband like me. Because no one is more handsome than me."

Kashmala smiled.

"Don't be too mischievous," she said.

"Now, if I am beautiful and handsome, what's wrong with that?" Khizar winked.

"Even Ayan bhai, Kabeer bhai, and Omar are not as handsome and adorable as I am." Khizar ran his hand through his hair.

"If your conversation is over, then go to sleep." he said as he entered from behind.

"Yes, brother, I was just going to sleep," Khizar said. Ayan picked up Rania from his lap and took Kashmala and went to the room. Shortly after, Omar and Khizar also left.

A small matter that spread turned into a tale

That matter ended, but the tale remains

Islamabad's weather was cloudy, and it was raining heavily at night. This was a large three-storey building. On the right side of the second floor of the house was a spacious room where a person was sitting on a sofa, focused on a laptop, drinking tea. Raindrops were falling on the window, creating a sound. He seemed quite busy. His hands were typing rapidly on the laptop. He was Behram Sikander, a lawyer by profession and the area's ASP. Then he looked up at the wall clock. It was eleven thirty at night. The sound of a car horn was heard from outside. He got up and walked towards the window. Drawing the curtain aside, he saw a car parked. Burhan came out of the car. He opened the room's door and descended the stairs.

As soon as Burhan entered, his steps halted upon seeing his brother.

"Where were you?"

Burhan kept his gaze lowered, standing still.

"I was outside," he replied.

"Heck, even a blind man could tell you were outside. Where exactly were you?" His brother's loud voice echoed throughout the house.

He stood there silently, while his brother, moving forward in anger, slapped him hard across the cheek.

"I'm here humiliated for your sake, and you..." He trailed off, his voice thick with frustration. "Kashmala will win the case. All the evidence is against you." He grabbed Burhan by the collar.

Hearing the commotion, Niaz and Timoor also came outside.

"What's going on, son? Let go of him," Niaz separated him from Behram.

"Father! Your son will be the reason for my defeat. Without thinking twice, he took that vile step, and now..." Now that I've put my whole life into this case, he says he'll accept his guilt and punish himself. Wow."

"Why, Burhan? You won't do something like this."

"I will. I will do it." Burhan averted his gaze from his father.

"Kashmala must have brainwashed him." Bahram said furiously. 

"What does he think of herself? I'll make her realize." Niaz, in anger, rested his head in his hands on the sofa.

"I'll deal with her myself." Behram clenched his fists in anger, his voice filled with rage.

"The hearing is tomorrow, and if you make any foolish move, no one will be worse off than me," Bahram warned Bahran, pointing his finger at Burhan. "Now go to sleep, we have to go to Lahore in the morning."

Burhan left. Now only Niaz, Taimoor, and Behram were sitting in the lounge. Taimoor was Niaz's elder son. After him, they had a daughter, Sarah, who were both married. Then came their son Behram, and then Burhan.

Taimoor's eyes were heavy with sleep. He was sitting on the sofa with his hand over his eyes in a reclined position. 

"Kashmala isn't wrong," Taimoor said, looking towards Behram.

"So, brother, I'm the one saving my brother."

"I can't bear to see my son suffer any punishment. If anything happens to my son, Kashmala won't be happy either." Niaz spoke in both tones and got up and left. Thunder rumbled in the sky.

"Isn't Burhan deserving of punishment? What fault does Kashmala have in this?" Taimoor asked Behram with a troubled expression.

Kashmala's fault is that she intervened in all of this. If she hadn't come, I wouldn't be in this mess today," Behram replied.

"If she hadn't intervened, someone else would have."

"If it were someone else, he wouldn't have dared to stand before me today. Kashmala's position is strong. She'll win."

"When you know, why don't you step back?"

"Dad was saying that even if Kashmala wins, she'll lose."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"Whatever it is, remember not to hurt Kashmala amidst all this. She shouldn't suffer."

"She's just your friend's wife, right?"

"Yes."

Behram smiled and stood up.

"I'll try," Behram said.

He entered the room and continued to work on his laptop, trying to focus, but Kashmala's image kept popping up in his mind. He closed the laptop, got up, and headed towards the bed. There was no sign of sleep. He lay there for quite some time, lost in thought. Outside, the sound of rain grew louder.

☆☆☆☆☆

Samaira was packing in her room when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Baji," came Kausar's voice. Samaira opened the door. She had brought water with her.

"Put it down," Samaira gestured towards the table.

Samaira seemed busy with her work. Her things were scattered around.

"What's the matter?" Samaira asked Kausar, noticing her hesitancy as she stood there staring at her.

"Baji... "

"Is there something you want to discuss?"

"Baji, um... your father came today."

"So?"

"They were talking to Mr. Ibrahim, and I overheard everything."

"What did you hear, Kausar? Tell me openly." She was busy with packing.

"Baji... they were saying they'll have Kashmala killed." There was a loud thunder outside.

Samaira's hands went limp. It felt like the ground was slipping from under her feet. She couldn't breathe properly, her throat constricted, and she felt light-headed. Her mind stopped functioning.

Kausar stepped forward and placed her hand on Samaira's hand, bringing her back to the present. 

"Baji..." 

Samaira's hands were as cold as ice, and there were beads of sweat on her forehead. Samaira wiped the sweat from her forehead and upper lip with the back of her hand.

"What's wrong, Baji?" Kausar had seen clear distress on her face. The room was cool, it was raining outside, and the window was open. Yet, there were beads of sweat on her face. Samaira sat down on bed, and Kausar joined her on the floor.

"Baji..." Kausar called out to her again.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I think I just had a sudden drop in blood pressure." Samaira poured herself some water from the glass and started drinking.

"Baji, what will happen now?"

"How would I know, Kausar?"

"Baji, you should do something."

"What can I do? When poison enters even a drop of blood, the entire blood turns poisonous. And before you know it, the poison spreads throughout the body, leading to death."

"Baji..." Kausar called out to her in a sorrowful tone.

Samaira looked at Kausar sitting below her, observing her intently. Thoughts flooded her mind, one after another, casting more and more suspicion on her father. 

"What did she gain by telling me all this? When my own family isn't mine, why is she being kind to me? My father will have my sister killed. He'll become my guardian. He'll betray me. My own blood? Kausar? She's an outsider. What does she want? If she couldn't remain loyal to her master, how can she be faithful to me? She must want something." Samaira kept staring into her eyes without blinking.

Hypocrisy, hypocrisy, hypocrisy, and nothing but hypocrisy. Samaira's heart testified to it. Then she looked away, took a deep breath, tears welled up in her eyes, and she stood by the window.

Perhaps Samaira was feeling suffocated by Kausar's presence.

"Maybe it would rain tomorrow too." Samaira stood by the window, looking out, and said. Light was visible from the rooms of the house opposite.

"Yes." Kausar took a step towards her.

"Kausar, you go. I need to sleep," Samaira said.

Kausar stopped where she was standing.

"I'll pack your stuff, Baji," Kausar insisted.

"No... no... there's no need for this pretense. I'll do it. After all, I've done it before," she replied with a forced smile.

Kausar couldn't assess its effects and left.

She stood by the window, burdened with thoughts.

Samaira comforted her heart with her right hand.

"If it's really Kashmala... no, no, why am I thinking all this? It can't be like this."

She began rubbing her fingers together incessantly, which were now sweaty.

"Fateh... Fateh will set everything right."

At that moment, the person who came to her mind was Fateh. But he was far away. Very far. Samaira was pacing around the room in a state of distress.

Closing the door, she began to cry. There was no one beside her. There was someone she was deeply troubled about, but she couldn't understand who it was herself. A companion? A friend? Whose shoulder she could lean on and cry, the one who could save her sincere relationships, who had the power to save Kashmala.

"So where is Ayan then? Should I inform Ayan?" His mind was touching many people. She glanced at the clock. It was half past two.

"He must have fallen asleep by now. But what about Kabir? No." She wanted to shake off all these thoughts but couldn't.

Putting her belongings aside, she walked into the washroom.  

Standing with both hands on the sink, she stared into the mirror, she cried. She cried a lot, sobbing uncontrollably. But there was no one here to listen. Everyone was asleep, indifferent to her pain. Then the tap rang. She filled her hands with water and splashed it on her face. Once, twice, and then several times. She looked at herself in the mirror. There was redness in her eyes, fatigue on her face, restlessness in her soul. Her hair was scattered, sticking to her moist face. She was not herself anymore.

She came back inside and fell on the bed with a thud, staring at the ceiling. Something was definitely bothering her. She was restless, sometimes sitting up, sometimes lying down. She kept glancing around the room. The Quran lying on the table, with its white cover and colorful pages, seemed to beckon her. She got up and approached the table. With trembling hands, she picked up the Quran, which had not escaped her notice. She opened it from the beginning, her lips moved. 

"Yet it is you who are killing your own people and banishing a section of your own folk from their homeland, and (furthermore) helping (their enemies) with sin and transgression against them."

Then she closed her eyes. The first face she saw was Zakariya, her father. Then, with a jolt, she opened her eyes again. The sound of rain was still audible.

Tap. Tap. Tap. There was a knock at the door. She placed the Quran back on the table and opened the door.

"May I come in?" Tabish asked for permission. Sabeen was with him.

"Yes, come in. How are you both doing at this time?"

"I knew you would be awake at this time," Tabish said with a smile as he entered.

"Are you crying?" Sabeen asked, sitting beside her on the bed.

"No, no, not at all."

"What happened to your eyes then?" Sabeen asked.

"I was packing just now. It's getting late, so my eyes might look like this because of sleep," she explained.

"Here, take this," Sabeen handed her a box.

"What's this?" Samaira asked them both, looking at them with surprise.

"See for yourself," Tabish replied.

Samaira began to unwrap the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace that looked quite expensive.

"Happy Birthday," Tabish placed his hand on her head.

"Happy Birthday," Sabeen echoed.

She had truly forgotten. Her father had already given her the first gift for her birthday.

"This must be expensive. I shouldn't have taken it from you," Samaira smiled as she handed the box back to Sabeen. "You remembered, that's what matters."

"What are you saying? You have to keep it. You're like my sisters," Sabeen insisted, refusing to take it back.

"Gifts are blessings. If returned, they lose their grace. Take it. We won't be giving gifts every day," Tabish chuckled.

"Thank you so much," Samaira smiled and kept the necklace.

“Why are these things scattered? Let me help,” Sabeen offered to put Samaira's belongings in the bag, but Samaira refused.

"No, I'll do it. Thanks."

"I'll help too. Let's get it done quickly," Sabeen insisted as they both started packing together.

Tabish was sitting on the chair near the table.

"And is there anything left?" The packing was almost complete.

Samaira glanced around with her hand on her waist.

"No, nothing. Everything's here," she replied.

"What's wrong? Are you worried about something?" Sabeen kept looking at her face repeatedly.

"No, maybe it's just because of tiredness," Samaira suggested.

"If there's anything, you can tell me. Don't worry, I won't share it with anyone," Sabeen insisted, then looked at Tabish.

Tabish was sitting at the table with the open Quran, marked with highlighters in various places.

"I told you, it's nothing. If there's any worry, I'll tell you guys. Who else would I tell?"

"All right. If you say so, then I'll take your word for it, dear." Sabeen hugged her with a smile.

"Okay, let's go." Upon Sabeen's call, Tabish went to his room with him.

Samaira came and lay down on the bed. The room's light was on, and now she was asleep.

☆☆☆☆☆

The morning was quite heavy. It was breakfast time. Instead of having breakfast, Samaira came outside with her suitcase. Everyone was having breakfast. 'Assalamu Alaikum,' she addressed everyone sitting at the breakfast table. In her left hand was a suitcase, while in her right hand was the Quran.

"Hey, come here, son, have breakfast." Ibrahim invited her for breakfast.

"No, Uncle, I'm heading back. And I don't eat breakfast while traveling." Just like she brought all the answers prepared beforehand.

"Tabish will drop you off, son."

"No, Uncle, Tabish will be bothered. I'll go by myself."

"Today is your birthday, dear. Happy Birthday!" Zamil expressed it with affectionate tones.

"Thanks, Appi."

"She left. Upon seeing a person approaching from the front on the gallery, she stopped. He was dressed in a three-piece suit and was entering from the gallery. He, too, briefly looked at Samaira, dressed in an abaya, before averting his gaze. Her face was hidden behind a veil.

"Uncle! I'm going to Lahore today. Dad was saying that I should remind you about tomorrow's court hearing."

Samaira held the suitcase firmly. She was clearly hearing voices from inside.

"Okay, reminded. When will Niaz be going? I have to go with him," Ibrahim said.

"I'm going alone. Burhan and Dad will come to Lahore by this evening or tomorrow," Behram replied.

"Alright. Come on. Sit down. Will you have breakfast?"

"No, Uncle. Maybe later. It's getting late," he said as he stepped outside. He saw that the girl was still standing there.

"Were you listening to our conversation?" Behram asked without looking at her.

"No. I don't understand your conversations anyway. So what should I do by listening to them?" she replied.

"Where are you going?"

"To Lahore."

"I can give you a lift."

Samaira bit her lip and thought for a moment.

"This offer is limited-time because I'm getting late," he said.

Not receiving a response from Samaira, he spoke up himself.

"I'll inform Uncle that I'm going with you," she said.

"Sure," he smiled and put on his glasses.

"I'm waiting for you in the car outside," he said.

He went outside. A minute later, Samaira was there.

Samaira opened the back door of the car and sat.

"Place this forward," she said, indicating towards the Quran. Behram picked up the Quran and respectfully placed it on the dashboard. 

"You can sit upfront because I'm not willing to become anyone's servant," he said.

"Why? I am sitting behind, does that bother you?"

"Bother? It's not just a bother, it's a bigger issue than that. I have my own personality, which is very dear to me. I hope you'll respect my words."

Without any argument, Samaira sat in the front seat.

Behram started the car and headed towards Lahore.

"By the way, do you have security concerns too?"

"Meaning?"

"What did you think, that I would seduce you, which is why you felt it necessary to inform Uncle Ibrahim?"

Samaira remained silent, and Barham also sat quietly, driving the car.

Behram's phone rang. The caller's name lit up: Kashmala. Barham smiled.

"How are you Kashmala G?" Behram asked about Kashmala's well-being.

As soon as Samaira heard her sister's name, her eyes widened. However, she didn't show her emotions.

"We have always been within the bounds of decency." (Pause)

Perhaps the response from the other side was unexpected.

"Congratulations again. The outcome of this case is in your hands," Barham had already been congratulating her confidently.

Behram's laughter became loud. Perhaps Kashmala had made a joke that made him burst into laughter.

"We are also waiting for you." (Pause)

"Yes, yes. In your city, Lahore." (Pause)

"Most welcome." (Pause)

"Okay." (Pause)

"Yours culprit." (Pause)

"Head held high," he was smiling.(Pause)

"Okay."(Pause)

"Goodbye, mam." Behram ended the call.

He was curious about the conversation that had taken place between them.

He kept smiling for a while and then sighed.

It was drizzling. The sky was completely covered with clouds.

"Can I play some songs?" Behram asked Samaira for permission.

"Yes, go ahead. But first, drop me somewhere on the side," Samaira said in a serious tone.

He chuckled.

"Why? Don't you listen to songs?"

"I do, but not like this."

Samaira's gesture clearly conveyed her desire for solitude with Behram.

"Oh, okay. No problem."

Now there was a long silence between the two of them. Behram wiped the water droplets off the windshield with a wiper. He also glanced at the Quran placed in front of him from time to time.

"How many pages are there?" The Quran was quite thick.

"Approximately a thousand plus."

Behram was astonished. "Almost!" he exclaimed in amazement.

"You must have a lot of time to read the Quran?"

"Yes, absolutely. It's not about me giving time to Allah. It's His grace that I find time and 'plenty' of it."

"Hmm... Good. Nice philosophical insight you gave there. I'm impressed."

"Excuse me! It wasn't a philosophy. I just told you the truth. Those who don't have time for Allah, Allah doesn't give them time either. And why should He?"

"What's your name?" Behram asked, brushing off his words as if he hadn't heard them.

"Yes?"

"I asked your name. Or maybe you won't tell me. Or you will but... but..." "not like this."

"Samaira."

"Good name."

"And yours?"

"Who doesn't know me, myself Behram Sikander!"

"Are you married?" Barham asked the next question.

"Why are you asking such questions?"

"It's a long journey. I can't just sit quietly the whole time."

"So what do you do when you travel alone to Lahore?"

"Music. I listen to music," Behram replied.

"And what else?" Barham asked randomly.

"Meaning?" Samaira's tone was stern.

"Are you upset?" Barham dialed a number and now he was driving while looking at the screen.

The speed of raindrops had increased.

"No."

"Alright. Won't you ask anything?"

"There's no interview going on here for me to answer your questions," Samaira responded with two quick replies.

"Okay." Saying this, Behram connected the phone to Bluetooth and pressed the button in his ear.

"Hello... Farqan?" (Pause)

"Is it done?" (Pause)

"What are you guys up to now?" His tone was harsh.

"If anything happens, you'll see your fate." (Pause)

"I don't know anything. Give these explanations to someone else." (Pause)

"Yes." (Pause)

"Give it to Batool's family." (Pause)

Samaira was listening to his words. The emotions on her face were fluctuating.

"Idiot! Don't tell Kashmala." (Pause)

"How many are there?" (Pause)

He might have been talking about money.

"These are enough." (Pause)

"Don't give it now. Wait until the court's decision. We have to bear all the expenses anyway." (Pause)

"It's not confirmed yet. That's why I said don't give it now." (Pause)

"Okay."

He was receiving an urgent call on his mobile.

"I'll talk to you later. An important call is coming in now."

Behram connected Niaz's call.

"I'm on my way." (Pause)

"Yes, I was just talking to them." (Pause)

"Everything is arranged. It will be done tomorrow." (Pause)

"Meaning? Is everything okay? Whose?" Behram was surprised. Samaira thought of Kashmala.

"Please, Dad. Is the case over? Is the matter over? If you get her murdered, then a new case will open up like this."

"You should say this when your brother is being grilled in court." Samaira heard Niaz's loaded tone perfectly.

"We'll see when we see. I have a solution for this, and I'll handle it my way." (Pause)

"Yes." Behram quickly glanced at Samaira and averted his gaze.

"That will be the best approach. To give them a hard time." (Pause)

"The case won't happen, dad," Behram explained to his father. But perhaps Niaz was adamant about his stance.

"Hello? Hello?" Niaz had hung up. Behram felt a tightness in his chest at the sudden silence. He quickly turned off the steering wheel Bluetooth.

Samaira seemed to be holding her breath.

The rain was pouring down heavily, and he was driving fast. He grabbed a water bottle from the dashboard and started gulping down water at intervals.

"What is this crazy person doing? He'll end up getting us both killed!" Samaira was terrified, watching his reckless driving. Just then, he broke the signal.

"Whoa! What's happening? Why did you break the signal?" Samaira was bewildered.

"Nothing will happen," he said calmly.

Samaira glanced in the rearview mirror. The traffic police were signaling them to pull over, and in the next moment, their path was blocked by the police vehicle.

Behram lowered the window and without a word, showed them his card.

"It's okay, let them go," one of them greeted him with a salutation.

Behram started the car and continued driving at the same speed.

Samaira remained silent, and the rest of their journey passed in silence.

Such a fire has burned in the town of our mind

That everything turned to ashes, only a shop remains

The enchanting sound of rain was falling. She seemed quite busy sitting on the ground. Her long hair was loosely tied. A light scarf was resting on her head.

"Look who's here!"

When she turned around to look, Khizar was standing there. She smiled and then bent back to the ground.

"What's going on, doll!"

Khizar sat down beside her on the floor. 

She was immersed in coloring the prayer mat, a white prayer mat.

"Wow! Omar's beautiful cousin's work is also beautiful."

As soon as Khizar praised her, she shook her head in denial and smiled.

"Look up." Khizar said to Aneesa, who was bent over coloring the prayer mat.

Aneesa lifted her head. Omar was standing. He smiled. Her scarf slipped off his head.

Omar knelt down beside her to the left.

When she leaned back, her hair began to touch the ground. She used her colored hands to push her hair back.

"How are they?" Aneesa asked Omar about the colors.

"Just like you. Beautiful." Omar kept watching the prayer mat.

"And infinitely beautiful." Khizar completed Omar's statement.

"Haaa! Do you want to color too?" Aneesa asked Khizar.

"No."

"Why?

"Because I color somewhere else."

"Where?"

"In life." Khizar picked up the color palette.

"You give me this prayer mat." Khizar touched the prayer mat.

"Okay. You take it."

"And me?" Omar also asked for a favor.

Aneesa didn't say anything. She continued coloring.

"Omar, come on, you color too." Aneesa urged Omar towards the painting brush.

"No. My hands will get dirty." Omar refused to take it.

Anisa applied some color to the brush and dabbed it on his cheek.

"Oops." Omar looked at her in surprise.

"Sorry." Aneesa then applied color to his other cheek.

Omar stood up.

"Now it looks balanced, right?" Aneesa asked Omar with a smile. Omar was wiping his cheek with his thumb.

"Shall we go outside? It will be fun. The weather is quite nice today." Khizar asked both of them.

"Yes, definitely." Omar also sounded enthusiastic.

"You both go. I'm not coming."

"Why? Khizar asked in a pleading tone.

"Just because. I have to do this anyway." Aneesa gestured towards the prayer mat.

"But I wanted to go with you guys." Omar insisted. Aneesa blushed at this. She was smiling shyly. She blushed but her back was towards Omar and Khizar. Her hair flowed from her waist like a waterfall, touching the ground.

"Okay. I'm coming." Aneesa agreed.

"Okay, I'm going to inform Bhabhi", Khizar went outside the room

 Now only Omar and Aneesa were in the room.

"Omar!"

"Yes?"

She was smiling. She was happy.

"Omar, take me with you."

"Where?" Omar didn't understand.

"To your home. I'll stay there as long as I'm in Lahore."

"Okay." Omar smiled too.

"Let's go." Omar reached out his hand. Aneesa took Omar's hand and walked outside with him.

Now all three were outside. Aneesa was driving the car. Omar was sitting with her while Khizar was on the back seat.

"Will you eat something?" Omar asked both of them.

"I'll eat whatever your beautiful cousin suggests." Khizar gave his opinion.

"Now? What would you like to eat?" Omar asked Aneesa.

"Ice cream and... and..." she started thinking. "And I'll have the pizza from my favorite restaurant!"

"Okay. And?" Omar teased her.

"And? I'll have coffee." 

"And?"

"And..." she paused. "Are you teasing me?"

"No. I'm just kidding."

"I don't want to eat anything now, and now I'm upset."

"Come on, please. Please, Aneesa, don't do this to me. Let me eat." Khizar pleaded with her.

"Tell Omar to say sorry to me." 

"Sorry." Omar apologized to her himself. Meanwhile, Omar and Khizar were smiling at each other, exchanging gestures and silent conversations.

"I'm watching you both." Aneesa said playfully.

She parked the car in front of the restaurant. The restaurant was crowded with people, and they struggled to find an empty table.

Omar and Khizar seated her there and went to order at the counter themselves.

Aneesa was reading the menu placed on the table.

Two boys arrived and sat with her.

"Excuse me, please go somewhere else and sit. This table is already booked," Aneesa said politely to them.

"But you're alone. We came here to keep you company," the boy said as he gestured towards her.

"What impertinence!" She shouted at them. 

"Relax. Relax. Don't be so pushy, girl. Don't bother the girl. Don't distress your delicate neck."

Aneesa stood up and splashed the glass of water on his face. Both of them became angry. Everyone there turned their attention towards them.

Aneesa started looking around. She lifted the jug of water from the table and poured the entire water on the other boy.

Feeling better? Aneesa asked them. One boy leaned towards her but she hit him on the head with the glass she picked up. Due to the glass hitting, blood was oozing from the boy's head. Aneesa's hand was also stained with blood. The other boy was horrified to see all this.

Omar and Khizar were standing at the counter.

"Sir! The girl who came with you is hitting someone outside." The waiter informed both of them. 

They both rushed out. There was a crowd of people outside.

Aneesa was holding her hand and crying. She was in pain. 

Omar grabbed the boy by the collar in anger.

"How dare you hit her?" Omar's eyes were filled with blood. Khizar was removing the glass from Aneesa's hand.

"He misbehaved with me," Aneesa said.

Omar beat both of them severely. People grabbed Omar and separated them. Omar kept lunging towards them repeatedly. Omar was panting and moved away from them. He calmed down.

Khizar gave Omar a reassurance. They all came outside. Khizar started driving the car.

"Why did you need to confront them alone? Just call out to me once and see." Omar and Aneesa were sitting behind. Omar was tying his handkerchief around Aneesa's hand.

"You weren't there." She was crying.

"I was right there. You just didn't bother to call out." Omar kept thinking about those boys repeatedly.

"If those scoundrels had done something to you, who would have been responsible?" Omar was getting angry now.

"So, I would have beaten them up."

"How would you have fought them? You couldn't have done anything. And those people... who were there, how were they just watching? Despicable people." Khizar saw Omar getting furious.

"There was still jug left Omar; if you hadn't come, I would have taken away the rest of his life by striking jug in his head." Aneesa freed her hand from his grip.

"Are you crazy?" Omar and Khizar were shocked to hear this.

Khizar stopped the car in front of the hospital.

"Get out." Omar opened the car door.

"I haven't been injured badly enough to warrant a hospital visit. Take me home; I'm fine." Aneesa was sitting in the car, while Omar and Khizar were insisting on taking her to the doctor.

"Now that you're here, let's go. But don't come back again," Khizar explained to her as if she were a child. She entered the hospital with them.

Omar took her to the doctor, who applied medication to her hand and bandaged it properly.

Khizar dropped them off at home and left. Mahenoor shocked as soon as they entered the house, noticing Aneesa's injured hand. She had two books in her hand, which she placed on the table.

"Oh my God! What happened?" Mahenoor exclaimed, looking at Aneesa's hand.

"Your sister is like Don, coming to fight," Omar joked.

Mahenoor sat Aneesa down on the sofa and Omar fetched water from the kitchen.

"It seems like the oppressors have hit my sister badly", Mahenoor's heart was feeling strange. Her chest was tight.

"No, your sister has beaten them up," Omar countered.

"Tell her why I hit them?" Aneesa began to cry.

"Omar has also hit them." As Aneesa complained Omar. 

"Why did he hit? What happened that it came to this level of violence?" Mahenoor grabbed her head. 

"Two shameless, despicable individuals were misbehaving with me, so I smashed their heads with a glass." Aneesa cursed at them. 

"Oh God, what have you done? What if they reported it to the police?"

"Then I'll handle it cunningly," she replied defiantly.

"Someday, you'll regret hurting us as well as yourself," Mahenoor was scolding her. 

"I'm not crazy," Aneesa replied firmly.

She stood up and went to her room.

Omar sat with Mahenoor, trying to console her.

"Leave her alone. She's just a kid. And besides, the mistake was initially made by those boys."

"Whatever the case, you shouldn't be breaking someone's head like that. What if something had happened to him?"

"He's gone now." Omar said regretfully.

"Omar, you should make her understand. Don't do something like that."

"Okay, I'll. Don't worry. Have some water." Omar handed Mahenoor the glass of water. Omar was sitting next to Mahenoor.

"What did they understand themselves? I would have hit them. Hmm."

Sitting on the bed, she leaned her head down, repeatedly recalling the incident at the restaurant and shaking her head. She began to remove the bandage from her hand.

"Alright, Omar and Khizar took me to the hospital, even though the injury was so minor." When she lifted the bandage, it felt like her hand was broken. Now that the bandage was removed, scratches were clearly visible on the wrist.

"Omar and Khizar took me to the hospital reluctantly. The injury is so small. The bandage was done, and Mahenoor thought my hand was broken."

"That's it? It felt like nothing. And I don't know why Omar suddenly looked so concerned." She smiled as she looked at the scratches on her palm.

"Omar is crazy."

Then she remembered how Omar was beating those two boys for her.

"Aneesa!" Kashmala called her out. She stood up.

"Show me. What happened?" Kashmala led her into the room.

"Nothing." Aneesa hid her hand behind her back. Kashmala brought her hand in front of her.

"Oh!" Kashmala saw the scratches. "Ouch, ouch..."

"Should I bandage it?" Kashmala asked.

"No, Omar had it done. I removed it myself. I get tangled up easily."

"Why do you engage in violence? You've always had a fondness for picking fights with boys since childhood. Those same behaviors persist. Straighten up." Kashmala was scolding her.

"Nothing happened. It's just a minor injury. It'll be completely fine by tomorrow."

Kashmala looked at her, there was no sign of sadness or pain on her face.

Kashmala placed her hand on her cheek affectionately.

"Bless you," she said warmly.

Then they both smiled.

"I'll go to Omar's house with him today," Aneesa felt it appropriate to tell her.

"Alright."

"Do you have any problems?" Aneesa inquired to know her opinion.

"I have complete faith in you, you'll never do anything wrong."

"Meaning?"

"You're innocent. Even when you understand, you're naive. I just like it." Kashmala knew her well. Aneesa also knew that Kashmala was talking about the distance between her and Omar. Perhaps she liked to advise Kashmala. She wanted to hear from Kashmala's mouth, 'Don't be swayed by Omar's love.'

Kashmala knew Omar too. There was nothing wrong between Omar and Aneesa. Whatever was there, it was evident on Kashmala. But the point was also that she could never see Aneesa in distress.

"When are you leaving?" Kashmala asked.

"Tonight."

"Take care of yourself. And don't misbehave with Auntie there. Hmm?" Kashmala said in her explanatory tone.

"Kashmala... You're saying it as if I'm the one picking fights with them. Even though they're the ones who fight. But they don't show it."

"So don't show it either. Respect those you like. Take care of their preferences. Respect for relationships goes both ways, and one-sided relationships don't last long."

"Alright. I'll try my best. Just... now relax."

With that advice, Kashmala left her to rest. Aneesa applied medication to her hand and stood by the window, watching the raindrops fall.

"Do you like rain?" Aneesa turned. Omar, putting his hands in his pockets, was watching her. He walked over to her and stood in front of her. She smiled quite a bit. 

"Do you like it?" Omar repeated the question.

"No... I just like the sound of rain at night."

"The sound? And rain?"

"Rain... it's nice but I don't like daytime."

"Why? Why is that?"

"I don't know." She started getting tangled up in her thoughts.

"Why don't you know? Does rain bother you?"

Aneesa raised her face to look at him, struggling to control his laughter.

"At the moment, you're bothering me." Aneesa lightly punched him on the arm.

"Shall we?" Omar asked.

"Where to?"

"To my house," he said, smiling and shaking his head in amusement.

"I'll go get my things," she said.

Omar took her and got into the car and started driving. 

"Hey! Where's the bandage on your hand?" Omar's attention now turned to her hand.

"I took it off. I was feeling tangled up."

"Did they touch you?" Omar asked in a mysterious manner.

"No, Omar. If they had touched me, they wouldn't have made it back home," she replied.

"I was worried seeing you cry," he confessed.

"I liked seeing you concerned for me," Aneesa thought to herself, heart to heart.

"I'll get some ice cream," Omar said, parking the car on the side and going to the shop to buy ice cream.

Two minutes later, he entered the car, holding two mango ice creams in his hand.

"Thank you," Aneesa said, taking the ice cream from his hand and starting to eat. She began chatting with Omar while eating ice cream. Fifteen minutes later, they entered the house. Farhana was surprised to see Aneesa coming in with Omar.

"Oh, you two!" She hugged Aneesa.

"I completely forgot to have your room prepared," Farhana said, struggling to smile.

"It's okay. I... "

"You can stay in my room," Omar interrupted her.

"Where will you stay?" Farhana asked her son, showing concern.

"You go," Omar said, ushering Aneesa into the room.

"I really don't like it when you're so kind to her," Farhana started scolding her son.

"Mom! What do you gain from troubling her? You didn't even bother to set up his room properly. Now your son will suffer."

"I don't like causing trouble, I just can't stand seeing her with you. I don't want her to take Anum's place."

"Mom, please. I'm not in the mood to argue about her," Omar stood up.

"Only because of Aneesa," his mother's anger was increasing.

"I'm not a child," Omar said regretfully.

"So I'm the child," Farhana started crying.

Omar's nerves were strained.

"Mom... I didn't mean that," Omar said, spreading his arms around his mother.

"It will be as you wish. Can't I ever refuse you? No, right? So just..." Omar trailed off.

"Promise me," Farhana insisted like a child.

"Promise," Omar said, wiping away his mother's tears, and hugged her.

During this time, Zakariya and Naveed entered. Omar sat with them for quite a while, chatting. Farhana went to the kitchen to make tea. Mashal was sitting in Omar's room chatting with Aneesa. 

"Does Aneesa annoy everyone?"

Zakariya asked Farhana, who was now serving them tea. Upon this question, Farhana glanced at Omar.

"No, no, she's a very good girl," Naveed replied.

"Someone should teach her household chores. It's good for girls," Farhana said to Zakariya.

"Yes, I keep advising her," Zakariya responded.

Omar was stirring his tea lightly.

"That's age for her. To learn." Farhana was saying evenly.

"Yes, absolutely," Zakariya nodded in agreement.

"If I say something, she might take it the wrong way. You say it your way," Farhana replied with a sly grin.

Now they were having scattered conversations between them. Later, Farhana mentioned Omar's marriage.

Omar finished his tea and got up, heading towards his room.

Aneesa was sitting on the bed, showing Mashal her painting. Omar entered.

"You go outside," Omar said to Mashal.

"But I had a lot to talk to Aneesa about," Mashal replied.

"Do it later. Go now," Omar insisted.

Mashal left. Now Omar sat beside Aneesa where Mashal was sitting before.

"What happened?" Omar was sitting with his head bowed, facing forward.

"Omar!" Aneesa placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing. Are you okay?" Omar leaned into her hands.

"What's wrong with me?"

"You were hurt, weren't you?"

"So were you."

"What?" Omar was taken aback.

"I mean... when you hit those boys... you must have hurt your hands, right?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I felt pain in my heart." Omar sat with his head bowed.

"Omar!" Uncertainty filled Aneesa's eyes. She smiled sheepishly.

"Your father is here outside," Omar told her.

"What? He's here... why?"

"What do you mean why?" Omar looked at Aneesa. Aneesa involuntarily lowered her gaze.

"No... I was just asking if everything's okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. You go. Meet them."

"Which guests are they? And anyway, they're usually at home. Is there someone special you need to meet them for?" Aneesa asked.

Omar looked at her intently.

"Did I say something wrong?" Aneesa pondered her words.

"It's your choice," Omar replied firmly and stood up. 

"What's wrong with you, Omar?" Aneesa held his hand and made him sit down.

"Nothing. What could possibly be wrong with me?"

"Something must be wrong."

Omar's gaze began to wander on her face. He started to think, deeply.

"Stop. Forever. With me. For me. Let there be nothing else. Let time stand still. Be mine. Let no one come between us. Just you and me. Us. It all seems beautiful. Why? Because of you. When you're here, everything feels good. I wish..." Omar closed his eyes while pondering.

"Omar!" Aneesa shook him by the shoulder.

"What are you thinking? If you say so, I'll go to Dad right away."

"It's okay. Meet later. No problem. Relax," Omar pulled the blanket and started to cover her.

"No, Omar... bring Mashal with you. I need to talk to her. If I sleeps now, I won't sleep at night, and then you'll get annoyed." Aneesa chuckled.

"Alright." Omar smiled. "I'll send her to you."

Omar left. Standing outside, he watched the rain from the porch.

The air was cold. He felt a slight chill. He pulled a chair and sat down. With his legs on the table, he reclined in a relaxed posture. The rain intensified.

Mashal returned with Aneesa from the porch.

"Let's get wet too," Mashal pulled her.

"No, please. I don't like it," Aneesa resisted.

"Omar, you tell her." Mashal was now addressing Omar.

Omar smiled.

"With me?" Omar extended his hand towards Aneesa.

"I'll  not come. I don't like rain," Aneesa declined.

"Just a little. For me," Omar insisted, taking her hand and leading her into the rain.

Now all three were getting wet in the rain.

"Isn't it cold?" Aneesa had been holding Omar's hand. The cold was making their lips turn blue.

"You won't be able to endure this cold. These hardships..." They heard Farhana's voice.

"Did they call me?" Aneesa asked Mashal.

"No, maybe they did," Mashal replied.

"What are you doing in the rain? You'll get sick. Enough now," Farhana called them back.

"Just a little longer, Mom," Mashal made a circle with their hands.

Farhana glanced at them with raised eyebrows.

"Okay, okay," Mashal went inside.

"Where did Dad and Uncle go?" Mashal asked Farhana when she couldn't find them inside.

"They went to meet someone for work. They'll be back soon. You go, change. Otherwise, you'll catch a cold," Farhana replied.

"Omar, let's go too," Aneesa's lower lip was trembling.

Omar chuckled. "Your patience ran out so quickly!"

They both entered the room.

"Let me change first." Aneesa hurried into the washroom.

After changing, she came out. Omar was sitting with a drawer, as if searching for something.

Aneesa tried to take out her perfume from her belongings but couldn't find it.

"What are you doing?" Omar peeked over her shoulder and asked.

"My perfume... I don't know... Where did it go? I kept it here." She was rummaging through her things.

"It's okay. It must be here. You see." Omar said, then went to change.

When he returned, he noticed Aneesa wasn't in the room.

Quickly getting ready, she came back outside.

"What are you doing here?"

"Auntie asked if I should make tea, but... "

"When will you go back?" Omar glanced at her, took the kettle from her hand, and started making tea himself.

She stood there, watching him.

"When will you go back?"

It seemed like she had forgotten she needed to go back.

"When will you leave!"

"Are you asking or telling?" Omar lit the stove and started pouring water into the kettle.

"Omar!"

"Yes?"

"Can I...?" She hesitated.

"Speak."

She paused.

"Promise me you won't scold me."

"I won't scold you. I can scold you!"

"Omar, can I... Can't I stay with you forever?"

"What do you mean?"

"Marry me, Omar."

Omar accidentally bumped his hand with the hot kettle. He involuntarily pulled his hand back and touched his mouth. Aneesa stepped forward, but Omar stopped her. He turned off the stove.

Omar went outside. He lifted the umbrella and walked away. Aneesa hurriedly followed him. Omar was walking on the wet road where there was no one but them.

"Omar!" Aneesa called out to him.

"Omar, please. Are you upset?" She was trying to come under Omar's umbrella. Thunder was rumbling intermittently.

"Omar! Say something. Did I say something wrong?"

Omar stopped. He was standing in front of the park, which was adjacent to their house.

Aneesa placed her hand on Omar's umbrella.

"Omar! Will you marry me?"

Omar saw her, raindrops on her face, her cheeks were wet.

"Would she cry? Maybe. But why? Omar! Because she loves you and wants to marry you. But you... you've started saying 'no' to her. She will cry." Omar was trying to understand himself.

"Aneesa! I love you."

Aneesa's face lit up with happiness. She leaned closer, standing right beside him.

"I love you, but I can't marry you."

Aneesa involuntarily looked at his words. Her smile disappeared at that moment. Now everything seemed diminished. Some things were broken. But what exactly, she couldn't understand.

She uttered "Omar" with her lips, but her ears didn't catch it. Omar sensed it. Was the pain in the moment, or in that sentence?

It's so painful when your hopes shatter and scatter. We hold so many dreams, but in a moment, everything falls apart, making it difficult to manage.

Aneesa distanced herself from Omar. She began to get wet in the rain. Omar raised the umbrella, but she moved further away from him. Now, she was crying.

"How could you... Omar, you wanted me... right? Then?"

"I do want to, but... " Omar wanted to present his clarification.

"But what? I'll do everything; just say yes, Omar." Aneesa stood stubbornly by Omar.

"It can't be like that."

"Everything can happen, you're a man, just say yes, Omar."

"Aneesa, understand the situation, things aren't the same right now."

"So what if I'm asking for marriage right now? Take your time, Omar. But I can never imagine life without you. Whatever you do, just marry me, just agree to one thing. I promise I won't ask for anything else. I'll do everything."

Omar saw her in a state of helplessness. She was madly in love, willing to cross all limits. Sometimes, the love of the world can crush a person, snatch their self-esteem. People, forgetting the distinction between good and bad, choose humiliation. This was her condition.

"Omar!" She rested her head on Omar's chest and cried.

Omar felt distressed. He had never imagined that his rejection would result in this reaction from her. Omar distanced himself from her.

"Is there something lacking in me? Did you dislike something I said? I'm sorry. But please, don't do this, Omar! Please don't go."

Aneesa kept mentioning Omar's name with such longing each time. And every time she called his name, he closed his eyes.

"I have never thought about anyone else besides you. How... how are you distancing yourself from me? You love me, don't you? Then what's the problem?" Aneesa pleaded.

Omar handed the umbrella to Aneesa and turned back himself.

"Omar! Stop! Omar!" But he didn't turn back. He headed towards the house.

Aneesa sat on a bench in the park. Everything around her was soaked.

Her fear had turned into certainty; she had now heard from Omar's own mouth that he wouldn't marry her. All the beautiful moments seemed lost in between. Sitting with the umbrella in the rain, she waited for Omar for a long time. But he didn't come. Now, he would never come.

He had gone his own way, far away. Pushing her into the depths of love's abyss, he had gone far away. But she was still sitting there, waiting for him. Perhaps he would come to take her, but why? No respect, no trust, no memory. Just incomplete love, trampled underfoot! A love that couldn't even be named!

That wound healed long ago, but still

A little pain, a small scar remains

"Where do you want to go?"

"Just drop me off at the stop, I'll go from there myself."

"Why? Don't you trust me? If you've reached Lahore, just tell me your address... or... do you think I'll keep bothering you by knowing your address and disturb you every day?" 

"No bhai, it's not like that." Samaira responded involuntarily. She was calling him brother now.

"So then what's the problem?"

"Okay bhai. Take the turn from here."Samaira started giving him directions now. "Ahead, there's the main road... a little further from Defence... there."

Behram parked the car in front of a small bungalow.

She got out.

"Thanks bhai," Samaira said and entered the house. Behram glanced around and then gave a sharp smile, shaking his head slightly.

He reversed the car and drove off. The car was on the ring road. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

"Kashmala... Kashmala... Kashmala... You'll win, Kashmala. Win. If not tomorrow, then the day after. I won't give up on you. I'll defeat you. A beautiful gift for a lifetime. A wound that will never heal."

He was now driving with one hand.

He drove lost in those thoughts for quite some time. A little later, the car entered a palace. This palace wasn't his own; it belonged to Sultanah, Ibrahim's wife. At the moment, she was scolding the daughter of the housemaid, Malikah, she was dressed in sari.

"Who knows when you'll all come to your senses. If I'm not at home, you'll turn this house into a bird's nest, all of you."

With a queen's necklace around her neck, expensive shoes on her feet, and two gold bangles on each wrist, her wealth was evident.

Behram entered.

"Assalamu Alaikum Auntie," Behram greeted and he gestured Malikah to leave.

"Wa alaikum assalam. How are you, my child?" Sultanah moved forward to show affection, and Behram bowed slightly.

"I'm fine. Auntie, why were you scolding Malikah?"

"Fateh is coming, I'm busy cleaning the house for him. You know well, until you stand over the servants' heads and make them work, they tend to slack off." Sultanah had now brought Behram into the drawing-room.

"Will you relax or work?" Sultanah asked Behram with a compassionate tone.

"I'll eat, I'm very hungry, haven't had breakfast either." Behram suddenly adopted a childish demeanor in front of her.

"Alright, come with me then."

"Iftikhar! Iftikhar, where have you all disappeared?" Sultanah called out. Two men appeared, hands tied like criminals. One was Iftikhar and the other was Qasim.

"Iftikhar, put Bahram Sahib's belongings in their room. And Qasim, you! Serve the food."

"Yes, ma'am." They both disappeared like ghosts.

Qasim hurriedly started serving the food because they all knew their mistresses didn't appreciate delays; every task had to be completed ahead of time.

Behram was eating when Sultanah went to her room to rest.

"Is Sultan coming?" Behram heard the voice from his right side. It was Malikah. His hand froze with the fork in his mouth.

"Really? Is he coming for stay or returning again?" Malikah asked Bahram, sitting on the floor with a worried expression.

"When you already know your own value, why do you bother yourself by mentioning it?"

"Mom says there's no one like Fateh. Mom is right, isn't she?"

He didn't say anything.

"I had seen him cry for the last time." Love overflowed in Malikah's words, there was compassion in her tone, there was pain.

"You must talk to him."

"Yeah, but not too much."

"How is he?"

"He's good, Malikah."

"How good?"

"As good as you are."

"How fine am I?"

"Very much."

"Swear to God."

Bahram smiled.

"Swear to Allah, Malikah."

"Why don't he like me?"

"I never asked."

"Well, ask sometime."

"Alright."

"But I've heard about your brother. He did a lot wrong. Burhan turned out to be very dirty." Malikah unintentionally made him sad. He kept eating with his head bowed."

"You know, you're also good."

"I'm also bad, Malikah! Very bad. Extremely."

"Why? Did you also hit a girl?"

Behram remained silent.

"But I've always found you and Fateh the opposite of Behram. Both of you can never be wrong."

He got up. After finishing his meal, he got up and left. Outside, he leaned into the car and started retrieving his laptop and files from inside. As he entered, he muttered something. He came back to the car and glanced at the dashboard.

"Amazing!"

He opened the car door and took out the Quran, bringing it into his room.

"How long will you keep running?" He placed the Quran on the upper shelf in his room and then lay down on the bed.

"And how long should I wait for Kashmala's victory!" he thought to himself. He took off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt, loosened his tie knot, and opened the window to look outside at Malikah, who was watering the plants in the backyard of the palace even in the light rain. Her mother suddenly pulled her back from her hair.

"Ah," Malikah cried. The water pipe fell from her hand. Now she was trying to wipe her hair with both hands.

"I didn't do anything, Mom... Qasim told me to bring new utensils from the store. Fateh will come tonight. Mom leave."

"And you broke the utensils?"

"How would I know, those utensils are so heavy..."

His mother released his hair.

"Look, Malikah, if you want to stay here, you'll have to stay away from Sultanah and her expensive things. I don't have enough money to keep replacing them. And then Sultanah Begum deducts money from my salary."

"Alright, alright. I understand, I'll forgive the last mistake." Malikah picked up the pipe again and started watering the flowers.

"You always says this, and then the next day, you makes some mistake again."

"No, I won't do it next time, I promise."

She reassured her mother, but she knew that even without intending to, she would make a mistake again. Her mother left.

"Huh! Sultanah Begum doesn't have any work other than my complaints."

Behram kept watching her for a while. When he understood, he lay back again.

"Doesn't Malikah really bother me? Huh. She won't understand. She thinks if she's good, everyone else is good too." Behram smiled. Then he closed his eyes and rotated his neck round and round. The door of his room was open. Sultanah entered. Behram was lying on the sofa. He got up and sat down when she came in.

"What will become of Burhan? I heard the girl is sharp," Sultanah said, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Behram took a deep breath.

"Yes, I have lost the case. And yet, I feel humiliated in the name of love," he replied.

"You love Burhan very much," Sultanah remarked.

"Shouldn't you?" Bahram questioned.

"How will you see him when he is subjected to punishment? When he gets shackled? When he engages in girl's play?" Sultanah continued.

"When the enemy becomes a friend, even Behram Sikandar keeps the spirit of losing," Behram concluded.

Meaning? Sultan seemed puzzled.

"Kashmala is the wife of Taimur's friend."

"So? Will you step back? Be a man."

Behram's voice began to show fatigue. "She's strong. What should I do now? And above all, Burhan is completing the missing part of the equation."

"Where was Burhan's mind when he... " Sultanah paused, lost in thought. "Were there any leftovers? Who knows what magic she worked. Surely it was this girl who ensnared Burhan. She's skilled at trapping boys in her beauty trap. Otherwise, our Burhan is quite straightforward.

"Yes," Behram knew it was Burhan's mistake again, but still he nodded in agreement with Sultanah, as if wanting to end the conversation.

"Have you seen that girl?"

"Kashmala? Yes, I've seen her."

"I'm not talking about Kashmala. The other one."

"Her name is Batool."

"Yes, that's her. How does she look?"

"She was obviously beautiful, so your innocent Burhan fell for her like crazy." Behram corrected Sultanah's assumption about Burhan.

Sultanah was shocked.

"No, don't say that about Burhan." Sultanah found Behram's words against Burhan very unpleasant coming from Behram's mouth.

"Leave something at least." He muttered under his breath.

"What? Did you say something?"

"No, nothing. I was just trying to relax."

"Yes, yes, certainly." Sultanah stood up.

"If you need anything, let me know. Don't be shy."

"Shy? What's that?" He chuckled, and Sultanah chuckled too. She waved in denial and left.

Behram lay down again.

The wounds that turned into red roses, the scars that became luminous like the moon

How long will we live like this? 

I am tired of living this way

The arrival of the evening was being felt. Samaira was lying with Rania. Kashmala and Mahenoor had gone shopping together. Ayan and Kabeer were also present at home.

They both returned after quite some time.

"Kashmala! How are you?" Samaira asked her. Her mind was entangled in various thoughts.

"I'm fine."

"Happy Birthday dear!" Mahenoor greeted her with a birthday wish.

"Did you remember?"

"How can we forget!" Kashmala extended a gift towards her.

Samaira took it and opened the gift.

It contained a beautiful crystal palace. And when the button was pressed, a light lit up inside it. The palace was beautiful.

"This is so beautiful! Show me, what did you bring?" Samaira asked Mahnoor.

Mahenoor had also brought a gift. She had brought a gift box with a chain inside it.

"Wow! This is beautiful too," Samaira exclaimed. She placed it around her neck and stood in front of the dressing table, trying to see herself from different angles.

"Kashmala! How do I look?" 

"You look good." 

Samaira smiled. "Yes, really." 

"I'll also take a gift from Aneesa this time. Every time, she disappoints me." Samaira expressed artificial dissatisfaction.

"She may or may not give it to you!" Mahenoor joked, causing Kashmala and Samaira to chuckle.

"Where is she?" Samaira asked.

"She's staying at Omar's house," Mahenoor replied.

"She likes Omar," Samaira told Mahenoor. Samaira was repeatedly looking at the gifts.

"Did you know?" Kashmala asked in surprise, sitting upright.

"Yes," Samaira said, sitting on the stool in front of the dressing table.

"How did you find out?" Kashmala was curious to know.

"Well, when someone constantly chants Omar's name, even the blind can see it all," Samaira said sarcastically. "It seemed obvious to me too, but I thought it might just be my imagination," she added. Mahenoor also sat there looking surprised.

"Kashmala, they... the decision about the morning case, right?" Samaira was slowly articulating her words.

"Why? Did you have something to do? What's your concern? You mentioned it, so there must be something," Kashmala insisted.

"No, nothing special," Samaira replied. She got up, walked over to Kashmala, sat beside her, and rested her head on her lap.

"Mahenoor, how's dad?" Samaira asked Mahenoor, who was sitting with them.

"I haven't met him yet," Mahenoor replied.

"Why? They've come to Lahore. So, you didn't meet them?" Samaira inquired.

"What? When? And how did you find out?"

"I found out when they conspired to have their own daughter killed," Samaira spoke in a subdued tone.

"What are you saying, Samaira? Are you in your senses?"

"That's exactly it, Mahenoor! Were you unconscious? You always objected that Kashmala and I were plotting Aneesa against dad? No, everything was clear. Their behavior towards Aneesa, hatred towards Kashmala, injustice towards Junaid, and betrayal towards Shehroz. Everything was clear. And it is."

Mahenoor kept looking at her with sorrow in her eyes.

"Now that they can't do anything, they'll kill Kashmala in the morning."

"Kashmala! No," Mahenoor said, moving closer to Kashmala and holding her with her arms, resting her head on her shoulder. They were both sitting together, with Samaira lying down with her head in Kashmala's lap.

Kashmala seemed as if she had lost her ability to speak. She was in a state of shock.

"It could happen, Mahneoor!" Kashmala said.

"My dear! I'll die if anything happens to you. How could dad do such a thing, Kashmala?" Mahenoor was crying.

"Nothing has changed, Mahenoor. The fog has cleared. We saw it coming before. You're just beginning to see it now," Samaira said, her eyes closed.

"I saw it. I never wanted you all to suffer. I never wanted you to bear the burden of reality. I wanted to keep you all away from the truth. I didn't know the outcome would be so terrible."

"Wow, Mahenoor! Handled all it alone! You turned out to be brave," Kashmala chuckled.

"Aren't you upset?" Mahnoor looked surprised at Kashmala's smile.

"Upset? Why should I be upset? That's crazy," Kashmala replied.

"Will you die? What will happen tomorrow?" Rania, she needs you." with tears in Mahenoor's eyes, started to fall on Kashmala's shoulder.

"One move by dad, one by us. Just take care of Rania and Ashir."

"Kashmala, what will you do?"

"The fate of this game is in my hands. Just keep watching," Kashmala said.

"Kashmala..."

"Don't say anything, Mahenoor."

"I have already told everything to Ayan bhai." Samaira said, standing up.

"What?!" Kashmala said angrily.

"What else could I do? There was no one else to tell," Samaira replied.

"Why did you tell Ayan? He will be worried unnecessarily," Kashmala said.

"Nothing will happen. Who knows, he might have a solution to the problem," Samaira said.

Kashmala fell silent.

"Be a little gentle, let me lie down," Samaira said, gently pushing Mahenoor aside with her hand and lying down.

Mahenoor stood up and picked up her shopping bags to leave the room.

"Wipe your tears. If the husband sees the wife crying, he gets very upset. Moments are ruined by crying. " Samaira had her hand on her eyes, and she was laughing as she said to Mahenoor. Perhaps she was trying to dispel Mahenoor's sadness from her face.

Mahenoor's face lit up with a smile. She lightly tapped Samaira and left the room. Samaira wrapped herself in a blanket.

"You're not being too clever?" Kashmala teased, trying to pull the blanket, but Samaira held onto it firmly.

"I was just joking. Now, no one should joke anymore," Samaira expressed her displeasure.

"But you must! It's essential!" Kashmala wrapped her arms around Samaira.

"Don't pretend to smile now. First scold me, and then..." Kashmala trailed off.

"Okay. I was just joking too," Kashmala replied.

Kashmala glanced over and saw Samaira's lips curved in a smile.

"You also keep an eye on Rania. Let me check on Ayan, so we can find out what you've told Ayan," Kashmala said, teasingly.

"Stop lying," Samaira said in a soft voice, accompanied by a smile. Kashmala had already left. Samaira brought Rania's sleeping form closer and delicately held her small hand in hers, giving it a kiss. She kept gazing at Rania's face for a long time, her heart fluttering with emotion.

How easy it was to die in your separation, beloved

Yet it took a lifetime to die while leaving

Aneesa was sitting on the swing, lost in thought. Omar arrived. Zakaria and Naveed were also with him.

"Don't you have anything to do?" Zakaria asked Aneesa, who was absentmindedly twirling her fingers around the hair. Sadness was evident on her face.

She suddenly stood up.

"Dad, I was making tea but..."

"But it didn't brew." Zakaria interrupted Aneesa, further irritating her. Aneesa glanced at Omar, feeling her dignity being undermined.

"At least don't do it in front of Omar," she whispered to herself.

"Why are you getting angry? She's just a kid," Naveed reprimanded Zakaria.

Omar signaled to Aneesa with his eyes to leave, but she didn't catch it.

"Mashal was looking for you" Omar came up with a solution.

"Yes, go ahead. Learn something from her," Aneesa heard Zakaria's voice behind her.

Aneesa stood outside the room. After showing artificial anger for a while, she walked into Omar's room and locked the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she began to cry.

"Has Omar changed too? Why didn't he take my side when dad was scolding me? Now there won't be anyone to stand up for me," Aneesa lamented, feeling like everything had been taken away from her by Omar.

Omar knocked on the door, but there was no response, so he was just twisting the door handle.

"Aneesa! Open the door. Come on, at least listen to me," he pleaded.

Aneesa opened the door and then sat back down on the floor. Omar closed the door and sat down beside her.

"Are you upset?" Omar asked her and then reached out his hand to hold hers, but Aneesa pulled her hand back.

"So, you're upset!" Omar smiled to himself.

She wasn't looking at him, sitting with her head bowed. Her hair was tangled, and traces of tears were evident on her face.

"I won't ever leave you alone. I'll always be there for you whenever you need me," Omar reassured her.

"I called you yesterday, stopped you, but you didn't come, you didn't stop. You lie, Omar. I acted out of love, but I'm also in pain. You maintained the relationship out of necessity. Relationships formed out of love are strengthened, not broken," she said, lowering her head. Drops of tears fell on her hand.

"Didn't I love you?"

"No, you didn't."

"It's not necessary that relationships formed out of love should be maintained. Some relationships can be saved by breaking them." Omar looked at the tears falling on her hand.

"And by breaking this relationship, you saved everyone else. You broke me." Omar felt resentment towards her for loving her. She stood up. Omar stood up too. As she began to leave, Omar grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"You're causing me pain, Omar?"

"Are you in pain with 'me' now?"

She didn't say anything and started crying.

"You're burdening yourself with guilt. Please. Tell me what I should do. Whatever you say, I'll do," Aneesa looked at Omar.

"What I asked for, I've already asked for, Omar."

"Can we still be friends?"

Aneesa sat down, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"All my prayers, those in which I only asked for Omar, the long evening prayers I performed for Omar! The Tahajjud prayers too, all because of Omar. Every recitation, every call to prayer, every prayer, starting with Omar and ending with Omar. Has all my worship, my time before my Lord, gone to waste? Are prayers rejected so quickly? Allah didn't scare me, nor did He stop me. No signal that Omar doesn't want to marry me. Does love turn into obsession? Is love painful or is it passion? Is it love, or is it a mistake?" A sea of thoughts flooded her mind all at once.

"I'll let you know after thinking, Omar. You can go now."

"I'll wait for your friendship," Omar said and left.

He was now sitting outside, using his mobile phone. Zakaria joined him.

"And son! Did you find a job?"

"Yes, Uncle. I have joining at the hospital tomorrow morning."

"Well, that's great then."

Zakaria wanted to talk to them but he couldn't figure out how to start.

"It's going to rain tomorrow as well," he said.

"Yes, Uncle. I saw in the news that there's a possibility of rain this week," Omar replied.

As Aneesa was coming outside, she heard Omar's voice.

"Son, it's you, Aneesa...," but he stopped as soon as she heard his father's voice.

"Yes, Uncle. Don't worry. She'll take admission here in Lahore." Omar's attention was still on the mobile phone. "I took her to Islamabad. We also went to meet Kashmala."

"Kashmala must have tried every trick to make her like herself," Zakariya commented.

Omar remained silent, not saying anything.

"And Aneesa didn't say anything either?"

"No, no, everything is fine. Wherever you want, she'll take admission there." Omar smiled as if he had just given Zakariya the solution to all his problems.

Aneesa felt embarrassed by her foolishness.

"Thank you so much, son. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have known how to handle all this."

"No, Uncle. What are you saying? I'm always here for you. Just say the word, and I'll do anything. I'm here for you just like your sons."

Zakariya smiled and then left after a while. Omar was still sitting alone, using his mobile phone. Aneesa turned back. Her dupatta fluttered. Omar noticed. Involuntarily, he started running after her.

She was picking up her things from the room.

"What are you doing?" Omar stood there with her.

Without saying anything, she kept packing her stuff.

"Give me back my paintings," she said, like a child asking Omar to return her things.

"What's wrong?"

"You won't give them back? I'll take them myself." Aneesa opened the cupboard, took out all her paintings, and packed them in a box. She was quickly packing her belongings.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"None of your business. I'm going to hell."

"You won't find a taxi now. Leave in the morning."

"Omar, please stop. I'm not in the mood for jokes."

"What's wrong?" Omar asked anxiously.

"Will you drop me at Mahenoor's house? Otherwise, I'll go myself," Aneesa said as she stepped out of the house and started walking on the main road.

Omar started the car and opened the door, gesturing for her to sit. She placed her belongings on the back seat and then sat down in the front.

"What happened?" he asked.

She didn't say anything. Anger was evident on her face. She wanted to cry but kept her feelings in check.

"Just tell me as friend," Omar asked lovingly.

"I haven't considered you a friend yet." There was bitterness in his tone.

"Then let's become friends. At least we can be friends, right? You won't find a better friend than me," he said.

"Friend? The one who stabs you in the back? Or the friend who stabs you in the heart? Omar!"

"What's wrong, Aneesa? I'm talking to you with love, why are you acting like this? Tell me if something happened. Did I say something wrong?"

Aneesa didn't even look at him.

Omar was looking at her.

"Now you won't even look at me?" he asked.

More than Aneesa's words, Omar was distressed by her attitude. He kept driving in silence.

"Tell me what happened?" he finally asked.

Unable to find an answer, Omar fell silent too. He stopped the car in front of Mahenoor's house. Light raindrops were falling outside.

"If you want, I can drop you inside," he offered. She was busy picking up her belongings from the car.

Omar held the steering wheel steadily, continuously observing Aneesa. Her face showed a profound impression. She opened the bag, took out a 500-rupee note, and threw it into Omar's lap, ringing the doorbell while standing at the door. There was a wound that had struck Omar's heart. His demeanor seemed like a mirror reflecting on Omar's face. Kabeer opened the door. As the door opened, Omar left, perhaps standing there in anticipation.

"You! How are you?"

'I'm fine. I was just missing you all and Mahenoor."

Kabeer brought her inside.

As soon as she arrived, she went into the room where Samaira and Rania were sleeping.

Seeing them asleep, she began to take out her belongings peacefully. She took out all the paintings she had made for Omar.

Taking all of them, she went to the back of the house. She wanted to set them on fire, but then got scared of the darkness of the night and came back.

As soon as she arrived, she laid down comfortably on the sofa.

I have fulfilled every demand of my desires,

Illuminated every pain, adorned every sorrow.

The sky had been covered with clouds since night. The rain continued with intensity until morning. Raindrops fell with the forceful wind. The noise of rain increased, drip, drip, drip, drops kept falling on the window sill.

The morning arrived with darkness.

"Look at this, where did this creature come from!" exclaimed Samaira in astonishment as she looked at Aneesa.

Aneesa blinked and sat up. Samaira had lifted Rania. Rubbing her eyes, Aneesa began to look outside through the window.

"Close the window, water will come in," Samaira said as she looked at the strong wind, which was causing the rainwater to come inside as the window opened.

"I can only open my part of the window," replied Aneesa. She didn't close the window.

"The devil has descended now," scolded Samaira. "Be responsible for once. All the water will come in. Then you'll have to clean it up yourself."

Aneesa closed the window with annoyance and lay back on the sofa.

Samaira was making tiny ponytails out of Rania's small hair as she sat on the bed.

“Why did you come here?”

“What do you mean why? Wherever I want to be,” replied Aneesa.

"Mom says you have too many doors," Samaira retorted.

"Haha, she's right," she chuckled.

"Come here. To me. I'll make braids for you," Samaira offered.

Aneesa sat down on the floor next to the bed, while Samaira remained seated on the bed, starting to untangle her messy hair.

"Oh God. It feels like a bird's nest," Samaira remarked. "When was the last time you combed your hair?"

"Yesterday."  

"Shall I apply oil to your hair?" Samaira offered.

"It's up to you."

Samaira picked up the bottle of oil from the dressing table and sat back down.

"You really don't take care of yourself at all," Samaira said as she poured some oil onto her palm.

"You're all that's needed to take care of me," Aneesa replied.

Samaira began massaging the oil into her hair.

"How long will we be like this?" 

"Until we're needed," Samaira replied, sitting with closed eyes, enjoying the calm.

Kashmala also joined them.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Aneesa.

"Oh God, is it something new? Can't I be here?" Aneesa replied, feeling irritated by her questions.

"It's not your home, that's why," Kashmala said, standing in front of the dressing table.

"One day, I'll have a magnificent palace, with servants at my beck and call. I'll be the queen of that place, and you all will be die to meet me, to come to my home." 

"And then your eyes will open, and you'll find yourself with a beggar," she added, shaking Aneesa's hair to pull her out of her thoughts.

Kashmala and Samaira burst into laughter.

Kashmala took Rania and left.

"At least I can dream of expensive things," Aneesa retorted.

"Only as far as circumstances allow, my dear," Samaira said, with a hint of uncertainty.

"Speaking of the palace, you give me a birthday gift," Samaira continued.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Mahenoor and Kashmala have already given theirs. Now it's your turn. This time, you'll giving it to me," Samaira said.

"What did they give? Show me too," Aneesa asked eagerly.

"Mahenoor gave a necklace and Kashmala gave a glass palace," Samaira showed her.

"A glass palace?"

"Yes, why? What's wrong?" Samaira replied in surprise.

"A glass palace easily breaks! What a useless gift!" Aneesa exclaimed. "If she wanted to give something, she should have given something that doesn't break even if it gets hurt," Aneesa retorted.

"Aneesa! A gift is a gift. And I will handle it with care," Samaira replied defensively.

"Still, sooner or later it will break. There's no glass palace that hasn't broken," Aneesa argued.

"Will you give me a gift this time, and give something that won't break even if it gets hurt? Deal?" she challenged.

Aneesa think for a moment. 

"Okay, done."

Now she was quickly making braids in her hair. After making French braids, she gathered the lower hair into a bun. Then she took a look at her.

Aneesa was holding a glass palace in her hand. Samaira lifted her face, but her eyes were fixed on the palace.

They both got up and went outside.

"Where's Khizar?" Aneesa asked Mahenoor, who was standing in the kitchen.

"He's your brother. Call him brother. He's older than you, in terms of relationships..." Mahenoor replied.

"Okay, okay. Where's the brother?" Aneesa said impatiently.

"Did he have any work?"

"Yes."

"Don't go out today." Mahenoor already forbade her.

“Why? Why can't I go out?” Aneesa asked, perplexed by sudden jump from the counter.

"Don't go out today. I'm just saying," Mahenoor insisted.

"I'll be back soon. And I'll go out with Khizar. I'm not going alone," Aneesa countered.

Just then, Kabeer descended the stairs. He was in uniform. Today he had to go back.

"I'll complain to your husband about you," Aneesa threatened Mahenoor in a menacing tone as soon as she saw Kabeer.

She went over to Kabeer. He was sitting in the lounge.

"Tell Mahnoor to let me go out. I'll come back soon," she said.

"Alright, let me talk."

"Thank you, Kabeer bhai," Aneesa added.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to buy a gift for Samaira."

"Oh! Did Mahenoor forbid you?"

"Yeah, I don't know why," Aneesa replied, sounding annoyed.

"Come on! Don't worry. I'll talk to her."

"I need to go now. You talk to her now."

"Okay." Kabeer got up and headed towards the kitchen.

Mahenoor was busy with her work.

"How do I tell your sister that my wife is upset with me?" Kabeer was standing right behind Mahenoor.

She was making tea.

"Come on, just agree. I'll be back soon," he pleaded.

Mahenoor turned around.

"You lie," she said.

"It's necessary. Otherwise, I might not leave you alone for even a moment."

Kabeer brought her in front of him, holding her hands in his. He looked into her moist eyes.

"Will you do this now? Will you make it difficult for me to leave?" he asked softly.

"You're the one making it difficult for me to stay! You came after a hundred and sixteen days!" Mahenoor exclaimed.

"You keep track of every single day." He brought her close, hugged her tightly, and then bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Be quiet and then we'll stay in touch," he said, trying to silence her.

"Now he would come back soon, after sixty-five days." Then he wiped her tears away.

She smiled.

"You're bothering me even when you're leaving," she said.

"Really? Are you bothered every time?" he asked.

"Oh! You go. I'll get some tea," she said.

"Will you listen to one thing?"

"Which one?" Mahenoor asked, curious.

"It's an easy guess."

"Tell me so I can know."

"Let Aneesa go out."

Mahenoor placed both her hands on her waist and looked at him.

"She said she's going to talk to you. She already complained about me, didn't she?" she revealed.

"She didn't complain. She just requested me to make you happy," Kabeer clarified on Aneesa's behalf. He knew Mahenoor would be upset with Aneesa.

"No. If she goes, she won't come back to this house," Mahenoor declared.

"Mahenoor! Please, for my sake. I... I'll come back in sixty days, five days less, if you let her go today," Kabeer pleaded.

"You have a way of touching the right nerve... amazing. Tell her to come back soon," Mahenoor said, "You're impressive." She was pouring tea into a cup.

Kabeer came out, and Aneesa was waiting for him.

"What did she say?" she asked as soon as she saw Kabeer.

"You can go, but come back soon," he replied.

"Ohhh... Thank you!" Aneesa exclaimed joyfully and hurried towards the kitchen.

"Mahenoor, give me some money," Aneesa requested.

"Why?"

"I need to buy a gift for Samaira."

"I'll give it to you in the room," Mahenoor said, heading towards the kitchen. She had a tray in her hand with two tea cups on it.

"Don't tell Samaira that I took the money from you," Aneesa pleaded, following Mahnoor.

"I never told her before, Kabeer have tea," Mahenoor said, offering Kabeer the tea cup.

"Where's Shayan?" Kabeer asked, looking at Mahenoor.

Without answering, Mahenoor went into the room.

Aneesa was also with her.

Mahenoor was at the dressing table, taking out money from her purse.

"What's this?" Aneesa looked at the box placed on the table and then at Mahenoor.

"Don't do this," Mahenoor stopped her, but she had already seen it.

"Did you lie?" Aneesa asked, climbing onto the stool and bringing the box down.

"Who is this laptop for?"

"It's for you. I thought of giving it to you after your results. Otherwise, you would have asked for a separate gift."

"But it's not like that now," Aneesa pouted. "Should I take it with me?"

"Hmm, okay, it's yours if you want it," Mahenoor said, smiling lightly. "As Kabeer brought it. The guitar is next on the list."

Aneesa smirked at Mahenoor.

"What did he bring for you?"

"Grab the money and get out of here," Mahenoor said, handing the money to Aneesa and accompanying her outside.

"I'll show Samaira. She'll be so jealous. I'll enjoy it," Aneesa said, taking the laptop and heading towards her room.

Mehenoor entered the lounge where Kabeer had already finished half of his tea. Mehenoor sat on the sofa, keeping a distance from him.

"Come here, sit with me," Kabeer said, sensing her displeasure.

Mahenoor approached and sat beside him.

"How will you manage without me? Is that what's troubling you?" 

"I used to stay away before too. I'll still manage without you. What's the big deal?" Mehenoor said, controlling her anger, but Kabeer sensed the underlying tension.

"Then why aren't you talking to me?"

"What should I say?"

"I was asking about Shayan. Where is he?"

"Do you worry about him?" Mehenoor glanced at Kabeer's face. He smiled faintly.

"Yes, I'm his father."

"So don't go. He misses you. You're never present even in parent-teacher meetings." Once again, Mehenoor's tone softened with a hint of moisture.

"I'll come back soon. I promise." 

"When?"

"In sixty-five days."

"No, it's sixty days now. You had deducted five." Mehenoor reminded him.

He chuckled involuntarily and stood up. "I promise to come back after the full sixty days. Is that okay? Will you drop me off at the airport?" He had his arms spread around her.

"Yes." 

She smiled.

"By now, you should have gotten used to living without me."

Mehenoor lifted her face to look at him. There was restlessness in her eyes. She had a question.

"Sorry," Kabeer said, immediately taking her with him, placing his hand on her shoulder, and heading towards the car to leave for the airport.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Will you take me to the shop?" Aneesa asked Khizar

"Sorry, I have work there," Khizar replied as he entered his room.

"Can you pick me up? I'll wait," Aneesa requested.

"No, it will take too long to wait, right?" He was putting on his boots.

"It's okay, I'll do it."

"Alright, I'll take Samaira with me. In that case, I can't leave you alone anywhere," Khizar agreed.

"I need to buy a gift for her. I can't take her with me," Aneesa explained.

Khizar looked at her deeply once and started combing his hair.

"Army officers don't repeat themselves. They say it clearly just once," Khizar remarked while looking at himself in the mirror.

"Okay, got it brother. I'll bring Samaira with me," Aneesa responded.

Samaira was sitting in the room with a gloomy expression on her face.

"I'm going out for shopping, Samaira. Come along," Aneesa said, ignoring her sadness and barging into the washroom to splash water on her face.

"You should freshen up too. Though I don't really need it, but still," Aneesa added.

Aneesa reluctantly came out, her face still downcast.

"I'm feeling down," Samaira expressed as Aneesa sat beside her.

"Why? What happened?"

"My Quran. I don't have it. The one you gave me," Samaira  recalled.

"Where is it? Did you lose it?" 

"No."

"Then?"

"Someone took it."

"Who took it?"

"I don't know, but that was immensely dear to me. That was outstanding, special, immensely," Samaira reminisced, while Aneesa sat with a sullen expression.

"I can get you a new one," Aneesa offered.

Samaira looked at her with the same uncertainty.

"Exactly like that," Aneesa reassured her uncertainty.

"Really? Exactly like that?" Samaira asked.

"Yes, exactly. In every aspect," Aneesa confirmed, "even in color."

"Yes, the same snowy white one." Sheremembered it all - where she got it from, how much it cost, how she got it, and most importantly, why she got it. Everything.

"Now, let's go. Khizar must be waiting." Aneesa took Samaira with her. Both of their faces were hidden behind veils. After a while, the three of them entered the Islamic Book Center.

"I remembered, Aneesa, you didn't offer me the prayer mat," Khizar reminded Aneesa, who was looking around distractedly.

"I'll give it to you once we get home, I promise. If I forget, remind me," Aneesa assured. She began searching for the desired book from the bookshelf. Not finding it, she glanced towards Samaira.

Samaira's face had fallen.

"I'm trying, it'll turn up," Aneesa reassured her.

She walked towards the counter, visibly disheartened. Samaira got engrossed in browsing through the remaining books.

"You'll remember a few years ago, there was a new edition of the Quran that came, with a white cover. It had English, Urdu, and Arabic written in all three languages," Aneesa informed the man standing at the counter.

"Yes, I remember," he replied.

"Will it be available?" Aneesa inquired.

"Yes, it will be available. We have a new edition. Which one do you want, the new or the old?" the man asked.

"I don't remember the edition, but if you show it to me, I'll remember," Aneesa requested.

"Okay, ma'am, come this way," the shopkeeper said, leading her to show the Quran.

"This one, I recognized it as soon as I saw it," Aneesa affirmed.

"Okay, this is the only one left in this edition," the shopkeeper confirmed, checking the top and bottom.

"The price?" She asked.

"Five thousand," he replied.

Aneesa handed over the five thousand rupee note and started looking for the Quran to give to Samaira.

"In such a big shop, at least tell beforehand," she muttered, walking around in frustration.

"Excuse me!" Someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around.

"Mind your manners," Aneesa snapped angrily at the person in front of her, who looked to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old.

"What did I do?" he asked, taken aback.

"Control your hands," Aneesa retorted.

"Oh, sorry. Seems like my calling you like that upset you. So sorry," he smiled. She turned to leave, but he stopped her.

"What's in your hands?" he asked.

"What's it to you?" she snapped back, annoyed.

"I'm the culprit," he said.

"Congratulations," she said sarcastically, then walked away without looking back.

"Rapist," Aneesa's pace slowed at his words.

"Culprit?" She thought. "Then why is he walking away so casually?"

"I won't do anything to you," he said himself, watching her distressed expression.

"You can't do anything to me either. I'm not afraid," she replied firmly.

He stood before her, and Aneesa was admonishing him in an accusing tone.

"You got angry. I just looking for help. Can yiu?" he asked.

"What kind of help?" Aneesa inquired.

"If... if I want to ask for forgiveness for a sin... what... what should I do?" he stammered.

Aneesa didn't quite understand.

"I'm not qualified in Islamic studies, nor have I pursued PhD in it." 

"What does that mean?" he hinted towards the Quran.

"How would I know?" she replied.

"You can't keep me away from guiding you like this," he said.

"Me? Can I deprive you of guidance? Who am I? Am I God?" She wasn't angry anymore, nor was she speaking softly.

"And did this guidance not occur to you when you were about to commit a sin?" The man's mouth hung open.

"Get out of my way, move aside. Let me go," Aneesa gestured for him to move to the side. He stepped aside, leaving the path. "Let me go," she repeated. He stepped aside and stood still.

"Your life is easy, isn't it? Because of this?" He became restless after she left.

Aneesa called Samaira.

"Yes... where are you? I can't find you anywhere in the whole center," Aneesa asked.

"I'm where you left me." Answer came from the other side.

"Stay there, I'm coming," she replied, ending the call.

She found the Quran and handed it over to Samaira.

"Where's Khizar now?" she asked.

"He's gone. He had some work," Samaira informed.

"He didn't even tell me," Aneesa remarked.

"He told me now. Let's go. Home," Samaira and Aneesa stepped out of the center. Light raindrops were falling.

"Do you intend to walk in the rain?" Aneesa asked.

"No," Samaira paused, pondering. "Look, across the street."

Samaira gestured towards the other side where there was a pile of books under the shutter. Some books were lying on the ground, and others were on a rectangular table in disorder.

"Look, knowledge is being sold on the streets," Samaira quipped.

"Should we buy some too?" Aneesa asked, seeking permission.

Samaira stared at her questioningly.

"You go. I'll wait at the center."

"No, you come too. I feel scared alone," Aneesa insisted. Samaira reluctantly agreed to accompany her.

As Samaira stood to the side, engrossed in observing the passersby on the street, Aneesa began browsing through the books. Suddenly, she felt a presence beside her. She looked around, but no one was there. Then, she glanced to her left and lowered her gaze in embarrassment, breaking into a smile.

There was a woman who was staring at her with suspicion. As she walked, she approached Aneesa. She was accompanied by a young man. He was walking beside her. When they came closer, Aneesa noticed that the young man's nail were covered in nail paint. She was puzzled.

"What's your name?" the woman asked Aneesa, waving her hands.

Aneesa observed her behavior and movements, finding them somewhat strange.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I have just askedyour name."

"Aneesa," she replied with her name.

"Oh, listen, Sajjo! Love is the girl's name. People will come, that's what it means," the woman addressed the young man and clapped. Both burst into laughter. Aneesa felt a sense of fear creeping over her. Her heart sensed something. She looked at the woman with an uneasy gaze.

Aneesa glanced around and saw Samaira standing there. Seeing her, she felt a sense of relief.

She then immersed herself in browsing through the books, but the woman was still standing beside her.

"What will you achieve by studying so much? Take off your veil a bit," the woman said, her tone not like that of an ordinary woman.

"No, no," Aneesa replied anxiously.

"Sajju! Look at the girl. She must be beautiful. Beauty is what's hidden." The woman tried to touch Aneesa's face, but she stepped back, feeling scared. She smiled.

"Are you frightened. Already? Haven't recognized yet who I am?"

No answer.

"Tawaif," the woman said.

Aneesa's heart sank.

"My name is Khushbu. Khushbu." The woman introduced herself.

"How much will you charge for yourself?" The woman asking and clapped. 

"I am not that," Aneesa said fearfully.

"Don't worry. I wasn't either at first. Why, Sajju?" Khushbu reassured her.

"Yes, sister," Sajju nodded in agreement.

"She's your sister, right? What's her name?" Khushbu asked about Samaira, who was lost in her thoughts.

"I won't tell you," Aneesa denied. It was unexpected for her to refuse.

Khushbu gave a bitter smile. She grabbed a book from her hand and threw it onto the table.

"There is no value for knowledge by the roadside. Where knowledge is so undervalued that if it's available on the streets, the market heats up. People don't pay attention. If this invaluable knowledge is placed at a high place and sold, people will flock to it. Growlll."  In the end, she handed the book to her in a scary manner. 

"You are priceless. There is a market, buyers as well, and... there's also a price. A quite high price. Higher than your thoughts even. Isn't that right, Sajaw? Did I say it right?"

"100 cents," Sajju smiled. 

"Now what do you say?"

The car horn beeped, Khizar arrived, and she left. The book remained in her hand. 

"The prey escaped, Sajju." As soon as they left, Khushbu said to Sajju. 

"Not today, but tomorrow, okay?" Sajju reassured her.

"Tomorrow, if not today." They both laughed and left from there.

In the ocean of pain,

There are countless islands, innumerable pearls.

"Are you putting me off?"

"It’s not like that." Burhan was talking to Zimal outside the court. There were two hours left before the court was to start. She had come to meet him. There was a crowd of people in the corridor. They were standing a little distance away under a tree. Zimal was holding an umbrella. The rain wasn't heavy, but the drops were falling faster, gradually increasing in intensity. Amar was sitting in the car, watching them.

"If it’s not like that, then why did you do it? What was so special about that girl?" She was arguing.

"I’m telling you, right here… this is where the mistake happened. I admit it, what more do you want me to do?"

"Did you not think about me even once?"

He stood there silently.

"Did you not even remember your sister?" Zimal wanted to make him realize.

"It’s too late. I remembered, but it was too late." Burhan moved a little closer, but she stepped back two steps. Her eyes started to well up with tears.

"I promise, I will make everything right." He moved further and stood under the umbrella with her.

"When? Years later?" She laughed sarcastically. "What am I supposed to do until then? I can’t wait anymore."

"I can wait." Just then, Behram walked up to them.

Amar saw Behram and smiled shyly. As always, he looked incredibly handsome and attractive to her. She wanted to go to him but stayed in the car, watching him from there.

"I never told you that I love you. If you are in this situation today, it’s your own fault." Burhan said coldly and turned away.

"I never wanted to love someone like you, but what can I do? The heart doesn't obey. If only we could control our hearts." She was crying.

"Is there nothing that can be done now?" Zimal turned to Behram.

"No. Just pray." Behram consoled her.

She lowered her head and walked past them.

"What did he say?" As soon as Zimal got into the car, Amar asked her.

"What could he say? Nothing." She was now sitting in the car.

"Are you crying?" Zimal saw her face, which was turning red. "What was Behram saying?"

"Please, can you just stay quiet?" Zimal snapped.

"Fine." Amar sat up straight and began looking at Behram.

He was standing with his phone to his ear, talking to someone.

"Everything here is under my control, make sure there are no mistakes." Saying this, he walked inside the court.

"Okay, sir."

"Take a precise shot at the building in front. There should be no mistakes, otherwise... you know very well that the second bullet will go through your body. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Don't worry. I..."

"Instead of reassuring me, focus on your job and hurry up."  Behram cut the other man off and hung up the phone.

"Has Ms. Kashmala arrived?" he asked his assistant.

"No sir, it will take her a little time because she will be bringing Batool with her."

"Oh." Behram pursed his lips and sat down with Furqan. Burhan was sitting on a sofa placed to one side of the room. Behram took out his phone and dialed Kashmala's number.

"Where are you?" As soon as the call connected, he stood up and moved to the window.

"Worried about me?" Kashmala always answered questions with questions.

"I thought you wouldn't come." He leaned against the window.

"Let me dispel your misconception; I've arrived." Behram saw Kashmala's car entering from the window and disconnected the call.

She got out. With her were Batool, her father, and her brother. Bahram recognized them immediately. But there was another girl; he couldn't identify who she was.

"Who is she?" he asked Furqan. Furqan got up and came to the window. Burhan also moved forward to see, but then sat back down after Behram glared at him.

"The girl? The one wearing a hijab?" Furqan squinted at her. Her face wasn't clear from a distance.

"Yes."

"I don't know either, sir. But I'll find out." Furqan smiled professionally.

"Please do it right away."

"Okay, sir." Furqan went outside.

Kashmala entered her office room.

"Sit down." She gestured for Batool and her father to sit. Aneesa was with them. Kashmala arranged a chair for herself and sat down.

Kashmala was sitting in front of her open file.

Furqan was pacing outside her room when the guard passed by.

"Who was the other girl with Ms. Kashmala?" Furqan stopped the guard to ask.

"Oh, her... the one who has been wronged." The guard said cryptically.

"Not her. The other one." Furqan asked in a subdued voice.

"Oh, her... she's the sister of Mem Sahib." The guard replied.

"Sister? She's her sister." Furqan was surprised and then smiled. The guard left.

Furqan entered the room.

"Sir, I have found out. That girl is Kashmala's younger sister."

"You've done well, Furqan." Behram tossed a wad of cash onto the table, which Furqan picked up and put in his pocket.

"And the rest of the information?"

"The rest of the information?" Furqan was puzzled.

"Yes, her name, occupation, everything. What does she do? What are her interests?"

"Sir, I don't know the rest of the details."

"Then find out. Make sure you get all the information, and let me know when I come back." Behram stood up and left.

☆☆☆☆☆

"How long will it take?"

"I don't know."

"Then I'll wait here alone."

"They'll be back in a while, don't worry." Kashmala reassured her.

"No, please, ask Samaira or Khizar to come and take me from here. I'm feeling scared." She held Kashmala's hand. Batool was sitting on the sofa, sipping water. Her father was sitting next to her. They looked at both of them.

"Scared? Of whom?"

"The people here seem strange to me. I don't know how you manage to stay among them." She was trembling.

"What's so strange? They're just like us." Kashmala chuckled lightly.

"Just like us, but their intentions... they're malicious. Send me back." She said firmly.

"Alright, I'll do something about it." After that, Kashmala sent a text message to Samaira.

"Shall we go? It's getting late." Kashmala addressed Batool now.

"Me?" Aneesa interrupted Kishmala.

"You come along too."

Now all five of them headed towards the courtroom.

On the way, Kashmala stopped the attendant.

"Make sure that girl gets inside within half an hour." Kashmala instructed the attendant, then continued walking, explaining Samaira's protocol to the attendant as they moved forward.

☆☆☆☆☆

The court proceedings began. There was considerable debate. Witnesses were called to the stand one by one. There, the testimonies of Batool's relatives and Burhan's supporters were heard. Burhan's mother sat holding her son's hand, as if she didn't want to let him go. Their whole family was gathered there. The judge was giving his statement.

According to Behram's calculations, he seemed to be losing the case. He appeared visibly tense, having consumed numerous glasses of water. He kept wiping the sweat off his forehead repeatedly.

"Considering all the witnesses and evidence, the court has reached the verdict that the culprit, Burhan Sikander, is sentenced to ten years of imprisonment under Section 377 for the crime of rape. Additionally, the convict's family will also have to pay a fine of fifty lakh rupees. With this decision, the hearing of this case concludes here."

Upon hearing the judge's verdict, Behram's heart shattered with a force that only he could feel in the sound of his own voice.

Some wounds are such that they keep bleeding for a lifetime. He had thought he could face it. But he couldn't bear to actually see Burhan being handcuffed. He stood up, put on his sunglasses, and swiftly made his way through the crowd, bowing his head as he passed through the midst of the assembly.

Burhan's parents were meeting him, his mother was kissing his forehead while crying. He wanted to comfort her, to console her. He tried to stop her. Helpless. Tears. Regret. Kashmala was watching them all. He was separated from them. The police urged forward. Barhan raised his hands. He was handcuffed. He looked around, Kashmala was watching him. He smiled slightly. There was no expression on Kashmala's face. Neither the joy of victory nor the happiness of Burhan's defeat. She didn't smile. But she kept watching him. Burhan wanted to smile.

The police took him towards the criminal van. Everyone went outside. It was raining heavily outside. Along with that, the wind was blowing fast. When he came out, he wanted to look at the sky but couldn't. His gaze faltered once again. His heart sank. A girl standing in front captivated him. Who was she? He couldn't figure it out. Why did she look good? He couldn't understand. He was being placed in the van. Was there a storm or a hurricane? His breath seemed to stop. The rain was pouring heavily. As he sat in the prisoner van, he could see the blurred face of the girl standing far away. He looked at Kashmala once again. He was a criminal. He had to wait for ten years now. Suddenly, someone appeared so beautiful to him. It was like magic. Before he could say a word, the sound of a gunshot echoed in the air.

And then suddenly, at the speed of time, a bullet pierced through Kashmala's body.

"Ahhhhh!" Kashmala screamed loudly.

Her body jerked and fell down. Chaos erupted all around. Raindrops were falling on Kashmala's face. Her body was completely soaked, lying motionless. Blood was flowing from her collarbone like a fountain. And the rain was diluting her blood.

"Someone has attacked! Security alert!" The guards were activated. The security went into high alert. Everyone managed their positions.

Samaira rushed towards Kashmala.

An ambulance was called. A crowd of people gathered.

Zakariya and Niaz's family left the scene. There was no one they knew there. Aneesa was sitting in the car, unaware that the person who was shot was her sister. Sameera had told her to stay inside, that she would go and check.

Knock knock. Someone knocked on the car window.

She hesitantly rolled down the window. A man wearing a hoodie was standing there with an umbrella.

"Who?" Aneesa asked.

"I've been asked to take you home," he replied.

"I don't know about you, who are you?" She inquired. 

"I am Kashmala's assistant. She sent me," he said in a professional tone. Physically and by his voice, he seemed quite young.

"Where is she?" Aneesa asked.

"She will come later. If you don't believe me, you can call her yourself," he said, standing in the rain with the umbrella.

"But... I don't have a phone," she said, worried.

"I have to follow the order Mem gave me. Please give me the car keys," he said, extending his hand.

At first, Aneesa didn't understand anything. She gathered her courage, handed him the keys, and started to get out of the car. When she placed her foot outside, the heavy raindrops hitting her feet and clothes made her pull it back inside. Then, thinking "I won't get too wet," she stepped out again. This time, the rain didn't fall on her. He was holding the umbrella over her, getting drenched himself. She stood still, looking up at the umbrella, watching the raindrops falling from the sky. His face was still covered.

"You are taking too long," he said, bringing her back to reality.

Aneesa got into the back seat, and he drove the car out. Just then, an ambulance arrived.

☆☆☆☆☆

Furqan and Behram were standing in the office. He could see Kashmala from the window. She was being laid on a stretcher. The girl in the hijab also got into the ambulance.

"Name: Samaira, Age: 23, Profession: Gynecologist, Residence: Mianwali."

Furqan provided all the information.

"Target!" Bahram smiled. He took his coat from the chair and walked out. Furqan, carrying his laptop in one hand and holding an umbrella over Behram with the other, followed closely behind.

Behram got into the car.

"I will go to the hospital from here. You take my files and other documents from the cabin to my house," he instructed Furqan.

"Okay, sir."

"And I think the job wasn't completed by the man we hired. Don't give him the full payment."

"Okay, sir."

With that, he drove the car quickly towards the hospital. He knew exactly which hospital Kashmala would be in at this time.

He parked the car in front of the hospital and went inside, holding a bouquet of roses.

"How is Kashmala?" he asked, recognizing the girl in the hijab immediately.

"You?" Samaira recognized him but couldn't remember his name.

"Samaira, right?" But he recognized her. Her eyes were red.

Samaira immediately looked down and stared at the roses.

"How is Kashmala?" he repeated his question.

"She is still in surgery," she replied.

"And no one else is here?" Behram looked around.

"No, they will come soon." Saying this, she stood by the chairs along the wall.

"Please, have a seat," Behram gestured to the chair. She sat down. He sat a little distance from her. For a while, there was silence between them.

"I wanted to talk to you... but..." Behram hesitated.

"Yes, please go ahead," Samaira encouraged.

"It's neither the right time nor appropriate. Will you be offended?" He spoke cautiously.

"No, I won't be offended," Samaira reassured him.

Just then, Mahenoor, Khizar, and Ayan approached them. Mahenoor started crying as soon as she saw Samaira's condition, noticing the blood on her abaya.

Ayan shot a look of hatred at Behram. They all waited. A nurse came out of the operating theater, and Mahenoor quickly approached her.

"Please stay strong. There's been significant blood loss, but everything will be fine. Don't worry," the nurse reassured them before moving on.

"I'll go get some water," Samaira said and went to get water. Behram followed her. Samaira was filling a cup from the water cooler while Behram stood next to her.

"Yes? Is something wrong?" Samaira asked.

"No, not at all," he replied with a slight smile, stepping aside.

"Oh, you were saying something," Samaira remembered.

"Let's leave it for now. Maybe some other time," he said, massaging his temple with his finger.

"Who told you that Kashmala was shot?" Samaira asked as the thought occurred to her.

"Your father informed me," Behram replied, and his words burned Samaira inside.

"He didn't come himself?" Behram unknowingly rubbed salt into her wounds. People often do this, slowly prodding at wounds, and in doing so, they eventually wound the soul deeply without even realizing it.

"He did come, but he left," Samaira responded calmly and walked away. Behram kept pace with her, matching her stride.

"Abu! Samaira, Abu didn't come, right?" Mahenoor was crying.

Behram glanced at Samaira in surprise, as if to ask, "So, you lied to me just now?" Samaira didn't pay any attention to him and continued to give water to Mahenoor.

Khizar was comforting Ayan.

"The kids must be home alone. You should go, and you can change your clothes," Ayan said to Samaira.

"Yes, that's right. You go. We'll take care of Mahneoor and Kashmala," Khizar said, taking the glass of water from Samaira's hand.

"Alright." She got up to leave. She had just made it halfway out when Behram called out to stop her. 

"Samaira ji! How will you go?" He knew that Samaira didn't have any transportation at the moment.

"Don't worry. I'll manage," she said, not stopping.

"I can give you a lift," he offered.

"No, thanks." Samaira opened her umbrella and left the hospital. She was trying to hail a taxi on the road but couldn't find any.

Behram stopped his car in front of her.

"Right now, you can consider me your savior," he said loudly, rolling down the window.

"If I weren't desperate, I wouldn't prefer this option," Samaira replied, sitting in the front seat with him.

Bahram smiled.

"I'm not lucky... I'm very lucky," he said while driving.

"Meaning?" Samaira inquired.

"I'll tell you at our next meeting," Behram replied with a smile.

"Next meeting? And who told you that we'll meet again?" Samaira asked, staring at him.

"I enjoy meeting you." After that, he didn't say anything, and Samaira remained silent too. He just kept driving.

In the heart, there were desires for union and the sorrow of separation,

The populated area was a populous area, the desolate area was desolate.

Evening was approaching, and the clouds were gradually dispersing. The sky was clearing up. Aneesa was sitting in the room, creating an email account on her laptop. As soon as Samaira came in, she went to Mahenoor's room to change her clothes so Aneesa wouldn't notice.

"Where are the kids?" Samaira, with her hair tied in a loose bun, came up to Aneesa.

"They must be playing with Shayan." Aneesa's eyes were focused on the laptop.

"And where is Shayan?"

"He must be in his room." She shrugged her shoulders.

Samaira left. Shayan and Ashir were sitting on the carpet, looking at storybooks, while Rania was sleeping. She came back and went to the kitchen, boiled water, and started making tea.

"What’s for dinner?" she asked the maid.

"Mahenoor ma'am usually cooks the food. I didn't make anything."

"Okay. Just make food for the kids today," Samaira said with a smile. "Make some chips."

"And you?"

"I'm not hungry. Make some for Aneesa too." She poured tea from the kettle into a cup.

"Would you like... tea?"

"No, you have it." The maid got busy with her work. Samaira took her cup of tea and went to the lounge. She was extremely exhausted.

"Samaira, I can't create my account. Can you take a look? Please create it for me." Aneesa sat down next to her and placed the laptop in front of her.

"Please, I'm really tired right now. We'll look at it in the morning." Aneesa kept trying to create the account on the laptop.

"No, please... do it now." She started insisting.

As Samaira got busy drinking her tea, Aneesa shut the laptop and lay her head on the sofa.

Just then, Samaira's phone rang.

"Hello." Samaira answered the call.

"Yes, she's at home." She got up while talking and walked away. After a while, she came back and stared at Aneesa.

"Did you have a fight with Omar?" At Samaira's question, Aneesa startled and sat up.

"Who told you that?"

"It was Omar's call. He said he's been calling you since last night and you haven't answered any of his calls."

"No, no. Maybe my phone was off," Aneesa made an excuse.

"When I came into the room, it was in your hand and it was on," Samaira caught her lie.

Aneesa started looking around.

"I asked you something. Did you two have a fight?" Samaira turned her face towards her.

"I'm not in the mood to discuss it."

"What happened?"

"He's a cheater."

"Is he a cheater, or are you calling the truth a lie?"

"What truth?"

"That he was always like this. You just didn't want to see this side of him."

Aneesa bowed her head and began to wring her hands.

"You really ended up with nothing. What did you get? Nothing but humiliation and pain."

Aneesa took a deep breath, leaned back on the sofa, and closed her eyes.

"Are you in pain?" Samaira placed her hand on Aneesa's.

"I pleaded with Omar that day... begged... cried. I did everything but didn't grab his feet. I called out to him until the end. What didn't I do? And he... he had said he would come at my single call. I called him many times. He didn't come. He didn't stop..." Tears flowed from her closed eyes and ran down her temples.

"Kashmala was right, I shouldn't have done this."

"What did Kashmala say?"

"She said Omar would never agree, that he would leave me and choose his family. And that's exactly what he did. But he could have been mine. He can still be mine."

Just then, the lounge door opened, and Omar entered. Aneesa looked back, then bowed her head and wiped her tears.

"How is Kashmala?" Omar asked Samaira. Samaira didn't respond and signaled Omar to stay quiet.

"Kashmala? Our Kashmala? What happened to her?" Aneesa suddenly stood up.

"Where are Mahenoor and Ayan Bhai? Khizar? Why haven't they come yet?" She yelled. Samaira tried to hold her by the arms, but she moved away.

"Aneesa... listen to me."

Aneesa began to struggle for breath, clutching her chest and trying to take deep breaths. Omar stepped forward.

"What happened?" Omar took her hands in his. Her body was growing cold. Samaira laid her down on the sofa and removed her shoes. Aneesa's eyes closed, and her unconscious body trembled. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

They rushed her to the hospital. Omar lifted her and headed towards the car. Samaira sat on the back seat, and Omar placed Aneesa's head in her lap. Hastily driving, he brought them to the hospital.

Being acquainted with the doctors at Omar's hospital, they didn't have to wait long. The doctors quickly took Aneesa to the ICU and began examination. Omar and Samaira waited outside.

"Why was it necessary to mention Kashmala in front of her?" Samaira nudged Omar.

"I had no idea this would happen. It never happened before, all this with her. What could it be now?" Omar looked quite distressed.

"There was something before, and there's something now. But before, there was a lot of stuff that wasn't there... but now... now it's there." Omar couldn't grasp Samaira's point.

"What?"

"You don't understand or you don't want to understand?"

"If you explain, I'll understand." Omar sat down next to her on the bench.

"Marry Aneesa. If you love her, then marry her."

"I've already talked to Kashmala about this. I don't want to repeat it."

"Can you tell me why you're refusing?" Samaira looked into Omar's eyes.

"Please, Samaira."

"Okay, fine. I give up. Just answer me one thing, I'll never force you into marriage again."

"What's that?" Omar stood up, leaning against the wall.

"Do you love Aneesa?"

A lump formed in Omar's throat.

"I'm endlessly in love with her."

"Are you in pain?" Samaira stood up and faced him.

"Pain? Pain is such a small word."

Samaira smiled and shook her head.

"I want this pain to give you comfort for the rest of your life."

Omar bowed his head, smiling through the pain. Samaira felt his anguish.

Dr. Jabbar came out. Omar and Samaira entered his room with him.

"The patient has panic attack. Everything is fine now."

"Can I meet her?" Omar asked. 

"Yes, of course. But be careful, she's still unconscious."

"Okay." Omar went outside, his gaze towards the ICU.

He went inside. Taking careful steps, Omar approached Aneesa and took a seat next to her stretcher.

He gently touched her hand where a thin needle had been inserted. She had received a drip. She was sleeping. He held her other hand in his and softly touched her face with his eyes closed. Tears fell onto Aneesa's hand.

"I love you," Omar said softly, his voice breaking.

"It hurts me to see you like this. Please don't do this to me. Be the way you were before. I'll make everything alright."

Omar tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and gently touched her face with his fingers.

As the nurse prepared to administer the injection, Omar stood up at the sound of her voice.

Aneesa made a slight movement as the injection was administered. She seemed to be in discomfort. The nurse disposed of the syringe in the bin. Omar turned back to Aneesa as he heard a gasp. Her hand was bleeding, and the needle was out. Perhaps she had pulled it out herself. Omar hurried to her side. The nurse rushed to call the doctor.

Omar quickly grabbed a cotton pad from the table and used it to clean the blood from Aneesa's hand. Just then, Dr. Jabbar and Samaira arrived.

"What have you done?" Dr. Jabbar asked in a stern tone, and he reattached the drip to her hand.

"Now, be careful. Hold her hand and sit down," Dr. Jabbar instructed the nurse. The nurse moved forward and placed a chair, then sat down, holding Aneesa's hand. When the nurse grabbed his hand, Aneesa started to pull her hand away.

"Doctor!" the nurse addressed Dr. Jabbar.

"Remove it," Dr. Jabbar said, stepping forward and removing the drip himself.

Shortly after, she regained consciousness.

"Samaira! Kashmala Mahenoor," she said.

"Yes, they're fine," Samaira reassured her. Omar was sitting on the stretcher on the side of his feet.

"I need to go to Kashmala. What happened to her?" She asked.

"She also had a similar episode like you... but she's fine now," Samaira was trying to calm him down.

"She was fine. She was with me. When did all this happen?"

"Close to twelve o'clock."

Aneesa tried to remember why she was out around twelve o'clock. She was going home.

"Oh, okay," Aneesa responded.

"You rest. They will discharge you soon," Samaira reassured him as she covered him with a blanket.

"Has Kashmala been discharged?" She was still worried about her.

"No, they'll discharge her tomorrow."

"Why? Why wait so long?"

"Because you're more resilient than Kashmala. Like Uzair."

"But I'm fine now. Take me home."

"Right now?" Samaira looked at Omar.

"Just wait a little longer. Take some rest. We'll be home in half an hour," Omar explained to Anisah in a soothing tone.

"You guys are here, right?" Aneesa asked.

"Yes, we're right here, with you," Samaira replied as she made space and sat beside her, running her fingers through her hair. Omar was sitting directly in front of her. Aneesa closed her eyes and fell asleep.

"I'll go get the discharge papers," Omar said as he got up.

"She's already asleep. Just wait a bit," Samaira suggested. Upon her insistence, Omar sat back down again.

"If you want, you can rest a bit. We'll stay here tonight," Omar suggested.

"No, the kids will be alone at home," Samaira insisted.

"You can take the car and go home. Come back in the morning. I'll stay with her," Omar reassured Samaira.

"No, no... Aneesa is very stubborn. If I leave, she might start arguing with you," Samaira replied.

"So, are you going home?" Omar asked.

"We have to go. Okay? 

"Do you need anything?" Omar asked Samaira.

"No, I'm not hungry."  

Omar seemed she was quite tired, but he remained silent. After a while, he looked at Aneesa's sleeping figure and then lay down next to her, on the side of her feet. Aneesa's feet seemed to touch Omar's heart. Samaira gently patted Aneesa.

They reached home around nine o'clock. After laying Aneesa down in her room, Samaira went to check on the children.

Aneesa was sitting on the bed with a pillow behind her head, leaning against the headboard.

"How are you feeling now?" Omar asked Aneesa.

"I'm alive." Her response pained Omar, but he forced a smile.

"That's good," he smiled faintly.

"You should go."

"You're alone. I'll stay here tonight," Omar said, sitting on the dressing table chair.

"Don't do me any favors," she said, picking up a glass of water from the side table and drinking it, her eyes on Omar, who was standing with his head down.

"Will you keep your head down all your life?"

At Aneesa's question, he raised his head, stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then came over and sat beside her.

"Do you know what the most painful thing is?"

Aneesa kept looking at his face.

"When you love someone deeply, they're right in front of you, the closest they can be, but you're helpless. Complications get in the way."

"What kind of complications?"

"I can't disobey my parents."

Aneesa laughed and turned her face away, taking another sip of water.

"Do you know what poison feels like, Omar?"

"Please."

"The sip of love you gave me is poison. I thought you would marry me. But you... Anyway, leave it. Please get me my dupatta from outside. It might be in the lounge."

Omar felt she was trying to find an excuse to send him away, to distance herself from him. He went outside and found her dupatta. When he turned the door handle, it was locked. Standing there with the dupatta in hand, a faint smile spread across his face. Holding the dupatta, he went to sleep in another room.

Lying down in the room, he placed Aneesa's dupatta over his face. He took a deep breath, inhaling its scent deeply.

Now it is pointless to call us, O messenger,

There is no strength left to rise, no speed to run.

Life is a tale of seven chapters, where some reach downfall while others attain success. On this earth, there are billions of all kinds of people. Every type. The pure, the sinful, those defeated by life, those who defeat defeat, heart-menders, and heart-breakers.

When Batool reached home, her aunt standing in front glared at her with a look that could kill.

"Back after blackening your face? Years of honor, ruined in a moment, turned worthless."

Batool said nothing, entered the room, picked up the plastic jug from the wooden table, and poured water into a bowl to drink.

Their house was in a village quite far from the city.The courtyard of their house was of raw earth. There were five rooms in a row. In the courtyard, there were two dense peepal trees, spreading their shade.

"Aunty! Here is the money." Abdul Qudoos (Batool's brother) handed the money to the aunt.

Their aunt, Ruqayya, was a widow and had no children. That's why she lived with them. Batool and Abdul Qudoos also didn't have their mother's presence over them. Since their childhood, it was their aunt who took care of all their needs.

"These few pennies cannot restore lost honor," Ruqayya was loudly admonishing Batool.

"Nor can punishment wash away the stains on you. You three returned after unnecessarily making enemies with influential people."

Abdul Qudoos came near his sister. Their aunt's voice was still audible.

"Where is father?" Batool asked while putting clothes into the trunk.

"Father has gone to the shop."

Abdul Qudoos sat quietly on the cot.

"You all must think that you suffer humiliation because of me," Batool said, feeling ashamed as she took the clothes outside to wash. Abdul Qudoos looked at her incredulously and then followed her outside. She was heading to the rooftop.

"Do you really think that about me?" Abdul Qudoos stood in her way.

"If I die, everything will be fine. Aunt's behavior, people's talk—no one will have to endure anything. I miss mother. Her memories make me cry."

"Who knew this would happen? God is very merciful, and you are still alive."

"How am I alive, Abdul Qudoos? Look, I died long ago."

"It would have been better if you had died; the matter would have stayed within the family, and no one would have found out." Ruqayya, carrying a bucket, pushed her and went up to the roof.

Abdul Qudoos helplessly watched her behavior and couldn't do anything.

"Are you coming up or not? Have your feet developed blisters?" Ruqayya hissed from above.

"I'm coming."

Batool went upstairs and started washing clothes on the roof. As she washed, she hung the clothes on the line to dry, all the while listening to Ruqayya's scoldings. Her anger was intense.

"You should die of shame, and here you are dragging your father and brother through the courts. Have some shame, you shameless girl."

Batool kept working with her fingers in her ears.

"Girls like her don't even get marriage proposals. If she goes to another house, she'll get beaten there too. They will treat you even worse," Ruqayya said as she scrubbed the clothes vigorously.

"Could it be worse than this?" Abdul Qudoos came up just then.

"Aunty, you are killing my sister alive with your own words. What can we say about others?"

"Abdul Qudoos, you go," Batool silenced him.

"You stay quiet, that's why she goes even further. Aunty, if you say anything more to her, I'll take Batool away from here," Abdul Qudoos warned.

"Where will you go, huh? Now you're big enough to threaten me? Wherever you go, you'll only find beasts because of what your sister has done. There's no prince waiting for this wayward girl," Ruqayya spewed venom.

"Aunty!" Abdul Qudoos shouted and moved forward in anger. Ruqayya got scared seeing his rage.

"No, no," Batool stopped him by grabbing his hand.

"Think before you accuse my sister. Otherwise, there will be no one worse than me." Batool took Abdul Qudoos downstairs.

"There couldn't be anyone worse than you. Instead of covering up for your sister's deeds, you're glaring at me," Ruqayya retorted.

Ruqayya's voice coming from upstairs further enraged Abdul Qudoos. Batool gave him some water to drink.

"Let it go, brother. It's just her habit. She'll get tired and stop on her own."

"You can endure it, but I can't."

"Then learn to endure it from now on. We'll have to hear this every day." There was pain in her voice.

"Did we do anything wrong? We didn't know what fate had in store for us. It's not our fault we're poor."

"No matter how rich someone is, they are powerless against fate. They can never buy destiny. Often, even the daughters of the rich are trampled under the feet of fate. And destiny, destiny is in Allah's hands. Does Allah do anything for money?"

Abdul Qudoos smiled.

"Allah will make everything right."

"Do you really think so?" Abdul Qudoos asked, looking at her.

"I have faith. I believe. When sorrow stays with you for a long time, it means Allah is about to bring good days. Good days are near," Batool said with full conviction.

"I'll bring the food."

Abdul Qudoos went to the hand pump to wash his hands. Batool brought the food. Abdul Qudoos sat down on the cot and started eating.

"You eat, I'll be back after finishing the work."

Batool got busy with the household chores. Her aunt was baking bread in the tandoor. She glanced at Batool and muttered something under her breath, but Batool paid no attention and continued working.

"Come here," Ruqayya called out, beckoning Batool. Batool washed her hands and went to her.

"I've kept some money for you, with your headscarf. Take it. Abdul Qudoos gave it to me. Be careful and keep it safe," she whispered.

Batool went and picked up the money. She took out the money from the bundle. These were brand new thousand-rupee notes. Batool started crying softly.

"Indeed, money cannot restore dignity," she muttered.

She was sitting there silently shedding tears. A lot of time had passed. She heard a noise from outside. She came out.

Her aunt was arguing with her father.

"Come, come, you come too. The root of all trouble. Your madam is dead. Now we all will die too."

"What?" Batool was stunned.

"Batool, Kashmala has been shot," Abdul Qudoos informed.

"But he is still alive, Abba," he moved forward to console his father. But his father stumbled and fell to the ground.

"Abba!" Batool also rushed forward.

Abdul Qudoos was shocked. He picked his father up and laid him on the cot, then went to get the doctor himself.

He returned with the doctor. The doctor checked the pulse.

"Be strong, Abdul Qudoos. Your father is no longer in this world."

The doctor's words pierced Abdul Qudoos's heart. He covered his eyes with his hands and began to weep. Batool and Ruqayya were also crying.

"Oh, the last support for my children is gone. They have become orphans. They have become orphans." Ruqayya began to wail loudly and started mourning. A scene of lamentation ensued.

"Oh Abdul Qudoos, what has happened. Your sister has devoured Abdullah. Your sister has devoured your father."

Batool burst into tears. Abdul Qudoos paid no attention to Ruqayya's words and took his sister into the room.

"I will make the announcement," the doctor said as he left.

In a short while, people started coming to their house. They took his father for the funeral washing. Batool sat in the room, crying.

Outside, Ruqayya was garnering sympathy from everyone by saying, "Batool has devoured her father

Abdul Qudoos and the neighbors carried the bier on their shoulders. The bier was placed in the courtyard. Abdul Qudoos brought Batool outside for a final farewell to their father.

People's mouths dropped open, and they started whispering among themselves. The grief-stricken siblings leaned on each other for support. The sight of their father's face wrapped in the shroud was heart-wrenching for them. There was no one left to understand or guide them. All the mourners sat around.

After that, Abdul Qudoos strengthened his weak shoulders to support his father's bier. The burden was quite heavy, filled with worries and responsibilities.

Batool was sitting in the closed room, crying. Now there was no one left. Nothing remained. When the father is no longer alive, the world turns into thieves and devours everything. They come together and tear apart in a way that makes a person struggle intensely. Wolves, beasts. When a strong protector like the father is gone, the first thing to be torn apart by the attacks is one's dignity.

This was Batool's situation. She was consumed with worry for herself and Abdul Qudoos.

After Abdul Qudoos buried their father, he came back to his sister. Behind him, Ruqayya also entered the room.

"Why have you come here? Go, sit with the neighbors. People have come outside to mourn."

"People have come outside to mourn?" Abdul Qudoos paused as if he had stopped Ruqayya's breath.

"Aunt, didn't you hear what people were saying? They call it mourning, huh? People have come to enjoy themselves. To watch our spectacle."

"You're the one who has turned it into a spectacle," Abdul Qudoos retorted as Ruqayya stepped back, startled by his outburst.

"If my sister's name has been mentioned again... then you'll be responsible for the consequences," he warned.

"You both are incorrigible. I've only spoken the truth. Let's see who can silence whom. Hmph." Ruqayya, with a contemptuous look, left.

"Don't worry, I'm still alive," Abdul Qudoos reassured Batool, placing a hand on her head. Batool's tears had dried up, her eyes vacant. She sat motionless, remembering the day Burhan first saw her.

"If only fate hadn't brought me before him. Everything would be fine today. Neither would I be in this state, nor Kashmala. Neither would my father die, nor my brother suffer."

I will hold the bowl of the sun in my hand

I will also adorn the moonlit night

It was three o'clock at night. Ayan was sitting on a prayer mat in the ICU, offering prayers beside Kashmala. At that moment, there was complete silence. After finishing his prayer, Ayan went outside, but there was no one there. He came back inside. Khizar had taken Mahenoor home. Ayan looked at Kashmala. Her complexion appeared pale. The doctors had removed the bullet, but she was still sleeping under the influence of the medications. Ayan gently touched her wound. Then he leaned down, kissed her forehead, and sat beside her.

When Ayan woke up, he saw that it was four o'clock. He had fallen asleep there. He got up, went to perform ablution again, and went to the mosque to offer the Fajr prayer. In the mosque, he found a Quran and recited it as well. On his way back, he bought a packet of bread and biscuits from a shop.

When he returned, he saw that Kashmala was awake. Ayan came to her. She started groaning in pain.

"What happened?"

"Pain... it hurts..." she could barely speak. She was experiencing pain in her collarbone and could hardly talk.

"I'll call the doctor. Don't worry."

The doctor came and touched the wound.

"Ahhh!" Kashmala screamed in pain.

Ayan was holding her hand, standing by her side.

"It's just a matter of a few days. The pain will subside, and you'll be fine," the doctor reassured her, but the pain was evident on Kashmala's face. She felt nauseous but couldn't speak.

"For now, I'll give her an injection to put her to sleep. I'll come back after a while," the doctor said as he administered the injection to Kashmala.

"I'm here with you, don't worry," Ayan said, sitting on a chair beside her.

"Rania... Ashir..." she started muttering.

"They're all fine. Everyone is fine," Ayan reassured her repeatedly, holding her hand firmly to make her feel his presence. She fell asleep again. Ayan quietly got up and started having breakfast.

Then he called Khizar.

"Tell Mahenoor to bring the kids when she's coming."

"What’s the need to bring the kids there, brother? Seeing Bhabhi's condition, they will start crying," Khizar tried to discourage him.

"Kashmala will feel at peace if she sees them. She was still asking me about the kids," Ayan explained.

"What? Bhabhi regained consciousness?" Khizar asked, surprised.

"Yes. You all should come today."

"Okay, I'll inform everyone," Khizar replied.

"Okay."

"Brother..." Ayan was about to end the call when Khizar quickly spoke up. "Listen."

"Yes?"

"Did Bhabhi's father come by?"

Ayan raised his eyebrows, moved the phone slightly away from his ear, then brought it back.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Of course, Bhabhi must be feeling it. Her father should have been considerate," Khizar said with regret. "You should make him aware."

"People who lack awareness themselves can only be embarrassed by being reminded repeatedly," Ayan replied.

"Brother."

"Make sure to bring the kids. And is everything okay there?"

"Everything's fine. Just Bhabhi's delicate, beautiful sister fell ill yesterday," Khizar said playfully.

"Aneesa?"

"Is there anyone else that beautiful?" Khizar smiled.

"What happened to her?"

"Bhabhi's condition gave her a panic attack. She's fine now," Khizar mentioned casually.

"Thank God," Ayan replied.

"Sir, someone is here to see you," the nurse informed Ayan.

"Alright, goodbye," Ayan said, ending the call.

"Where is he?" Ayan asked the nurse.

"Mr. Nasrullah, is that you?" Ayan recognized him as soon as he stepped outside.

"Yes, I came to inquire about Ms. Kashmala's health. How is she?" Nasrullah asked.

"By God's grace, she is doing better," Ayan replied with a smile.

"And... I wanted to inform you that Batool's father has passed away," Nasrullah conveyed the news with regret.

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un. When? How?" Ayan asked, shocked.

"I don't know the details, but you should go to offer your condolences."

"Of course, I will. Please, have a seat," Ayan gestured to a bench.

"No, I must be going now. I just wanted to inform you," Nasrullah said.

"This is very sad news," Ayan said, troubled. Nasrullah left, and Ayan, with a mind full of thoughts, sat by Kashmala's side.

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he decided to call Zakariya.

"Asalam Alaikum, Uncle."

"Wa alaikum assalam," came the somewhat stiff reply.

"Uncle, are you aware that your daughter is currently in the hospital?"

"Who?"

"Kashmala. Kashmala Ayan Ali," Ayan reminded him.

"I have no connection with her."

"If you sever your ties, will that break the relationship your daughter has with you?" Ayan questioned.

"If you have anything else to discuss, call me. Otherwise, I don't have time for pointless and trivial conversations," he said dismissively before abruptly ending the call.

Ayan's eyes filled with sorrow. He sighed and then moved closer to Kashmala, comforting her.

"Meeting a friend dissipates all sorrows," he whispered softly, smiling gently.

༒︎༒︎༒︎༒︎༒︎