White Roses Episode 04

 

White Roses as symbol of love 

Annihilation hidden in destruction

These pages were written in the scrolls but never transcribed,

Life, we were taught in books, yet never learned.

The morning was fragrant. The air was enchanting. The tall minarets of the mosque were illuminated. The sound was echoing. The call to prayer, inviting the sleeping community to meet with Allah, was loud.

Allaahu Akbar, Allaahu Akbar, Allaahu Akbar, Allaahu Akbar

Junaid was sitting in the mosque performing the Fajr prayer. In the distance, another man was standing. His shirt sleeves rolled up, he was about to go for ablution. He had a rough appearance, with disheveled hair. The loud and clear words of the Adhan were bringing peace to his heart and mind.

Ashhadu an la ilaha illa Allah, Ashhadu an la ilaha illa Allah

Junaid was in a state of prostration, while the other man was performing ablution. He turned on the tap. The stream of water flowed. Tears fell. He washed his hands. Rinsed his mouth. Put water in his nose. Splashed water on his face. Once, twice, thrice. Now he was pouring water over his arms.

Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasoolullaah, 

The voice of the muezzin was still echoing. Junaid continued to pray with great composure. While wiping his head with his wet hands, he looked up at the sky.

Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasoolullaah

He poured water over his feet. Slowly, with his left hand, he washed both feet one by one.

Hayya ‘alaas-salaah, Hayya ‘alaas-salaah

Now he stood up. He raised his index finger. His gaze was towards the sky.

Hayya ‘alaal-falaah, Hayya ‘alaal-falaah

He paused for a moment.

Success? Achievement? Is success possible through prayer? Where does it lead to success? He thought.

Then he recited the Kalima, only with his tongue. Time was running. He wanted to run too.

As-salaatu khayruminan-nawm, As-salaatu Khayruminan-nawm

He glanced at Junaid. As restless as he was, Junaid appeared equally peaceful. Junaid looked to the right.

Peace and mercy of Allah be upon you

Then he looked to the left.

Peace and mercy of Allah be upon you

Allaahu Akbar, Allaahu Akbar

The muezzin's voice softened. The call to prayer was now heard in a gentle tone.

Laa ilaaha illaallaah

The muezzin fulfilled his duty and descended from the pulpit.

Junaid smiled at the person standing next to him and then raised his hands in prayer. That person also became engaged in prayer. Junaid, feeling at peace, went into prostration. The other person was also in prostration. Both rose together.

Junaid stood up to leave.

"Can you stay a little longer?"

The person stopped him. Junaid said nothing and quietly sat back down in the same place. There were not many people in the mosque; barely two rows. They were both in the second row.

Junaid sat with him, watching him. His lips were moving, reciting tasbeeh. The person finished his prayer and sat there for a long time. People started leaving for their homes.

"Did you find peace?" the person asked Junaid.

" What we search for is what we find. What we seek within, we find within."

"Why don't I find it?" He sat with his head bowed.

"Did you search?"

"Yes. A lot."

"Where?" Junaid looked at his face, which was quite clean. He seemed to be about twenty-one or twenty-two years old.

At Junaid's question, he smiled slightly.

"The wrong place?" Even he didn't know.

"Right now, you are in the right place. Maybe you will find it here," Junaid offered a ray of hope.

"It takes time for closed hearts to open, but they do open. Light bursts forth. The soul experiences a comforting pain. You find Allah there, guidance, peace, and..." Junaid paused.

"And?" He raised his head and looked at Junaid with questioning eyes.

"You find light, you find Allah, you find guidance. You find pain, you find healing. If you still long for 'more,' then understand that you have found nothing and lost everything." Junaid sat cross-legged in front of him. 

"Yet... the heart still longs to experience the joys of the world's blessings."

"The heart? Crush it."

"Crush it? How can I crush it? That's where I find peace. Saying is easy, but crushing the heart is so difficult."

"You'll understand someday." Junaid had no answer.

"Who taught you?" He asked with innocence.

When goodness becomes clearly distinct from evil, light enters the heart on its own. Overcoming darkness, it washes away the blackness from the heart.

The person sitting in front took a deep breath. Junaid stood up.

"Now where to, which path will you take?" Junaid asked.

"There, where I've spent the whole night." He smiled sarcastically.

Junaid left. He stood up. Shoes were worn outside the mosque. He looked around. He spun the key around his finger. And he stopped by the car.

"Why does that which is not beautiful, appear beautiful? What is it about them that overpowers a person's intellect?" Junaid was observing him. Now he sat in the car and headed towards the hospital, while the person was still standing by the car.

Lost in thoughts, he sat in the car. The car started. AC on. He drove the car and then onto the highway. The highway was almost deserted. He shifted gears, floored the accelerator, and the car began to race at full speed. The Mercedes was speeding alone on the highway, with no sign of any other human being. That's how he was. Carelessly, he drove the car. The road seemed like his own. He kept driving the car recklessly for quite some time. The car was running in a very cautious manner.

There was no consciousness, there was unconsciousness, and in unconsciousness, where is consciousness,

What remained remembered was the silence, what was forgotten was the story.

The room was completely messy. Cushions and blankets were tumbling off the bed. Aneesa was sitting in the middle of the bed with her laptop open. Fully focused on the laptop, she seemed busy. She had only one target now: to create an email, which was beyond her capabilities. When did Omar come inside, she didn't even notice. Her hair was disheveled. She didn't have her dupatta on. She was sitting in this rough state.

"How are you now?" Omar cleared his throat and asked.

She was sitting as if she hadn't heard him. Omar sat next to her and looked at the laptop.

"Confirm password." The letters were highlighted on the laptop. The column was empty.

"Enter the password." Omar looked at her as if giving instructions.

"I know."

"Then do it."

Aneesa hesitated. She bit her lip. Omar was lying on his elbow, waiting for Aneesa to enter the password.

"You go. What are you doing here?" Aneesa suddenly lifted the laptop and placed it in her lap. Omar looked at her, startled.

"Samaira was saying you were having trouble creating your account. Show me. I can help," Omar reached out for the laptop.

"Another favor!" She smiled.

"Come on. We're cousins," Imar smiled lightly in response.

"It's better if we stay just cousins." Omar's smile faded.

"What happened?" Aneesa's tone was bitter. "Stay at a distance." As soon as she said it, she moved a little away. Omar squinted his eyes at her.

"What?" She got confused seeing Omar's expression. Omar moved closer.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Aneesa kept moving away. Omar moved forward and then snatched the laptop.

"No, Omar."

Omar held the laptop up in the air. Aneesa came to his side and jumped to take the laptop from his hand. And then she pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket.

"If the laptop stays up, your phone will be buried today..." Aneesa tossed the mobile phone in the air and then caught it again.

"Are you threatening me? Samaira... Samaira..." Omar called for Samaira. She came over.

"Look, I came here to help your sister, and she's breaking my things," Omar complained.

"Liar. I won't spare you." Aneesa stepped forward. Omar put Samaira in front to shield himself.

"Are you two kids? Omar, at least you..." Samaira was scolding them when the doorbell rang. Aneesa pinched Omar's arm hard.

Samaira was about to open the door.

"Wait, I'll see who it is." Omar stopped Samaira from going. He placed the laptop back on the bed and went to open the door.

"What were you doing?" Samaira scolded Aneesa. "I can't control you."

"I can't create my account," Aneesa said with a sad face.

"Give it to me. I'll make it for you." Samaira took the laptop from Aneesa and kept it with her.

"Listen... you get ready. We're going to meet Kashmala today." Samaira took clothes out of the wardrobe.

Omar came back with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

"Wowwww!" Aneesa ran and snatched the bouquet from Omar's hand. Samaira peeked out from the wardrobe and then went back to her work.

"It's so pretty, isn't it?" Aneesa took in the fragrance of the flowers. Omar just kept looking at her.

"Omar, your clothes? Just wear one of Khizar's shirts, hmm?" Samaira was about to press the clothes she had taken out.

"These are for you." Omar pointed to the flowers.

"For... for me?" Samaira's face turned pale. She put the clothes aside and took the bouquet from Aneesa's hands 

"Who gave them?" She asked Omar.

"I don't know." Omar feigned ignorance and looked at Samaira with suspicion. Samaira looked at Omar.

"Omar... it's nothing like that."

"Do you really not know who gave them?" Omar wanted to clear his doubt.

"Yes, I really don't know."

"I wish someone would give me flowers too," Aneesa said longingly.

"Can you stay quiet?" Samaira got angry. The smile vanished from Aneesa's face, and she stomped out of the room.

"Who left these here?"

"I don't know. There's a note with them, have a look." Omar said and went outside, wanting to give Samaira some space.

As soon as Omar left, Samaira unfolded the paper.

"Dear Samaira, I hope you are well. I thought we could talk in person, but perhaps that is not possible now. I don't know how you will react, but what can I do? I have fallen in love with you."

Samaira's nerves tightened. She had never imagined that someone would send her a love letter in such a manner.

"Please don't be upset. I will never force you to marry me. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together."

Samaira, with furrowed brows and a serious expression, continued reading the letter.

"Samaira, your father is here," Omar informed her. Before she could read further, Omar signaled her with his eyes to hide the letter and the flowers. Samaira slipped the letter under the bedsheet, but the flowers remained in plain sight. Just as Samaira was about to hide the bouquet, Zakriya entered the room. Imar stood behind him.

"Where did this come from?"

"Omar... Omar brought it," Samaira answered promptly.

"You brought it?" Zakriya turned to ask Omar. Omar stepped forward.

"Yes, Uncle."

"For what reason?"

"I just liked them, so I got them," Omar replied carefully.

"Is this the state of the room?" Zakriya glanced around the room and sarcastically questioned Samaira.

"The kids did it, I was just about to tidy up," Samaira smiled with difficulty.

"Samaira... serve breakfast," came Aneesa's voice from outside. "Samaira... Samaira..."

Omar was barely able to control his laughter. Samaira was also smiling faintly. Omar quickly turned towards the kitchen.

"Foolish girl, Uncle Zakriya is here," Omar alerted Aneesa, but unfortunately, Zakariya had already reached there.

"Get up."

Aneesa stood up, her heart pounding.

"What are you doing here? Weren't you at Farhana's house?"

Aneesa had no answer. She looked at Omar.

"Look at me. Here." Zakriya's anger was reaching its peak.

"Uncle, I brought her here," Omar lied once again for Aneesa.

Aneesa's breath caught. She looked at Omar.

"Another favor!" Her eyes were moist, filled with reproach.

Samaira brought breakfast. Everyone started eating.

"I'll go get the kids," Samaira said and left, returning with Shayan, Ashir, and Rania.

Zakriya turned his face away upon seeing Kashmala's children.

"Nana Abu!" Shayan hugged him, while Ashir just looked at him and then started eating breakfast.

"Kashmala didn't even teach her kids how to greet elders properly," Zakariya spat venomously. Aneesa looked at her father in regret and shook her head. Samaira shook her head in disapproval and advised Anisa to stay quiet.

At the mention of her mother, Rania looked around.

"Where is Mahenoor?" Zakriya asked about Mahenoor.

"They went to the hospital early in the morning," Samaira informed.

"Is she alone?" Zakriya inquired.

"No, with Khizar bhai," Samaira replied.

Zakriya's expression changed at the mention of Khizar's name. He looked displeased.

"Aunty, when will we go to the hospital to see Mama?" Ashir asked innocently.

"Do you know that Kashmala had a panic attack?" Samaira asked Zakriya. He choked on his bread. Samaira quickly stood up and handed him a glass of water.

"Omar must have told him," Aneesa speculated.

Under the table, Omar stepped on Aneesa's foot.

Aneesa looked at Omar, who shook his head.

"Not a panic attack. Mama got shot," Ashir said.

"What? Who told you this?" Aneesa looked at Samaira and Umar in turn.

"Khizar Uncle called and told Dad."

Everyone in the house, even the youngest, knew about this. The only one who was unaware was Aneesa. She felt deeply hurt, mostly because Omar had lied to her once again. Once again!

"You finish your breakfast, I'll take you," Imar said, ignoring Aneesa. "Finish your milk," Omar said as he held the glass of milk to Ashir's lips.

Samaira was feeding Rania. Everyone was having breakfast, except Aneesa, who sat with an empty spoon, staring at Omar. After finishing breakfast, everyone was free.

"I'm getting the car. You bring the kids," Omar told Samaira. Aneesa walked with Omar to the car.

"Are you coming?" Omar asked without looking at Aneesa.

"Should I come?"

Omar looked at Aneesa in response to her question, which was asked in a quite serious tone.

"You complain to Dad about this." Omar felt intense embarrassment at her statement.

"Can't we resolve this dissatisfaction?" Omar opened the front seat door for her. Aneesa sat down. Omar leaned against the window, watching her, waiting for a response.

"Let's go," Samaira chimed in. Omar started the car and headed towards the hospital.

☆☆☆☆☆

They arrived at the hospital. Khizar was standing by Kashmala's bedside while Mahenoor was feeding her soup. Ashir ran to his mother.

"Wait, wait... slowly." Khizar pulled Ashir towards him.

"It's okay, let him come," Kashmala said in a low voice.

Aneesa stood motionless in her place, staring at Kashmala. Her condition— the marks and wounds on her neck were evident. Omar pushed her forward.

"What?" Mahenoor looked at Aneesa, who was standing hesitantly.

"Nothing." She left the room.

"I'll check on her," Khizar went after her.

Samaira sat down next to Kashmala with the children.

"Why did you come like this?" Khizar sat with her on the benches outside the ICU.

"I got scared. I thought Kashmala's condition was worse. But no. Everyone thought I was a child. No one told me that Kashmala had been shot. Why?" Aneesa rubbed her empty hands together as she spoke. "Don't I care? Am I not a part of this family?"

"It's not like that. You weren't told because everyone was worried about you."

"Worried! One is worried about their own, and I'm a stranger," she said with pain, not bitterness, in her voice. "No one cares about me."

"Who said that? Don’t I care?" Aneesa looked up at Khizar. Khizar smiled, reassuring her. He was the one, at that moment.

"You cared about me?"

"Yes, I did. That's why I came back home for you." Khizar lowered his gaze. Aneesa blinked and involuntarily looked at Khizar.

"Thank you, Khizar Bhai." She felt a bit relieved.

"You are most welcome! Omar's..."

"Beautiful cousin." Aneesa laughed involuntarily. Khizar laughed too.

"Didn't Dad come?"

"He did, but he left. Did you have breakfast?"

"Yes."

"I didn't." Aneesa made a sad face.

"Oh! No problem. I'll arrange it." Khizar stood up. Aneesa stood up too. Omar came out.

"You both..."

"I'm taking Aneesa to the café. We'll be back after breakfast." Khizar explained, and Omar looked at Aneesa.

"I'll come too." Omar decided to join them.

"Okay." Khizar smiled and led the way.

The three of them were sitting in the café. Aneesa was busy eating breakfast. Omar was using his mobile. Khizar, with his arms crossed, was watching Aneesa.

"Have you two had any conversation?" Khizar asked Omar. Aneesa looked at both of them.

"No," Omar replied without much attention.

"Then why aren't you both behaving as you used to?" Khizar sensed a tension between them.

"There's nothing like that. If there was, I wouldn't be here right now." Omar glanced at Aneesa, then looked at Khizar.

"Tell me... when will Kashmala be discharged?"

"Probably by some days." Khizar forced a smile.

"Why hasn't your mother come to see Kashmala, Omar?" Aneesa asked while eating breakfast.

"I asked why your father didn't come." Omar's sharp tone hit hard. Aneesa hadn't expected Omar to taunt them about their father. With embarrassment and regret, Aneesa lowered her head, unable to respond.

"Take it easy. She's just a kid." Khizar gently advised Omar. Omar fell silent.

After finishing breakfast, the three of them got into the car.

"Drop me home," Aneesa said in a low voice.

"But there's no one at home," Khizar said, glancing at Aneesa while driving.

"Drop me home," she repeated, showing a bit of anger.

"Okay, okay, calm down. I'll drop Omar at the hospital and then I'll drop Samaira off at home with you. Okay?" Khizar said in a calming tone.

She didn't say anything and just sat with a sullen expression.

"Stubborn," Omar said, wrinkling his nose.

"Go to hell! You're the stubborn one. You yourself..." Aneesa stopped mid-argument, something came to mind.

"You yourself what?" Miss Zoya's words echoed in her ears. She couldn't point fingers at Omar's character, nor could she speak ill of him.

"What about me?" Omar asked angrily.

"Nothing."

"No, speak up. Tell me, what about me? What?" Omar got even angrier.

"What is wrong with you two?" Khizar looked at them, not understanding their behavior.

"Nothing's wrong with me! Nothing happened," Aneesa wanted to end the conversation.

"Nothing's wrong with me! Nothing happened," Aneesa wanted to end the conversation.

"Something did happen." Omar stared at her sharply. Aneesa turned her face towards the window.

Khizar stopped the car in front of the hospital. Omar got out and entered the hospital. He glanced back once. Aneesa was looking at him. Their eyes met. Omar saw her tearful eyes and then turned away, not looking back. Aneesa's eyes were still fixed on the spot where Omar had just passed.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, I have a headache."

Khizar touched her forehead, which was warm.

"You have a fever. Let's go to the doctor."

"No. I'll be fine if I rest at home," Aneesa refused.

"Okay. We'll go once Samaira comes. Alright?"

Aneesa nodded in agreement. Khizar pressed his lips together and smiled.

☆☆☆☆☆

Aneesa was at home with Samaira and Khizar. Samaira and Khizar were in the kitchen, preparing lunch.

Khizar placed a roti on the griddle.

"This is how you do it," Khizar was teaching Samaira how to cook roti.

"Okay, I'll try next."

Samaira placed a roti on the griddle, but the dough bunched up and didn't spread properly.

"No worries," Khizar laughed.

They continued talking and cooking, with Khizar teaching Samaira.

Aneesa was sitting on the bed in her room, her head resting against the headboard, lost in deep thought.

"When Kashmala was shot, I was in the car. So how did Samaira find out that Kashmala had been shot? She stayed there. Why did that man bring me home? Kashmala was the one who got shot, then who told him to drop me home?"

She got up from the bed.

"Oh no! If anyone finds out that I came with some unknown man, I'm done for... Aneesa... you're in trouble."

Angry with herself, she paced back and forth.

"At least I should have asked who he was? What's his name? Now if someone asks tomorrow, what will I say?" She felt frustrated and lay back down.

"But right now, I'm safe and at home. So... I won't tell anyone that I came home with someone I didn't even know. And with so many things happening, who's going to ask me here?" With this thought, she felt relieved and soon fell asleep peacefully.

I am convinced of the love of the townspeople, but

The very hand I kissed turned out to be a dagger.

The room's door was open. Light was streaming in through the window. He had just come out after taking a shower, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, drying his hair with a towel as he sat down on the sofa. He did not comb his hair. Drops of water continued to fall from his wet hair. He applied gel to his damp hair and got up to look outside the window. The room was spacious, and every item in the room hinted at its value. The door opened. He turned and looked.

"Sir, someone left this outside," Iftikhar said, handing him a box and a note.

"Put it down," he pointed towards the study table. Iftikhar placed the box on the table.

"Sultana Begum was asking about you," Iftikhar informed him.

"Okay, I'm coming," he said as he stepped out with Iftikhar. Sultana Begum was sitting in her room, getting ready in front of the mirror. The door was open.

He walked in. Sultana stood up and smiled.

"My son," she said, moving forward to hug him. "Where did you go so early in the morning?"

"For jogging," came the brief reply.

"Come, let's have breakfast. Qasim has made your favorite breakfast today. Everyone knew you were coming. Come on," Sultana took him with her to the dining table. Behram also came. Amar was already there; she had to go to university. Her hair was cut in layers, swinging on her shoulders. She was wearing jeans and a shirt, with no dupatta on her head or shoulders. She was quickly eating bread slices. When she saw Behram, she sat back down.

"Are you going?" Behram asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Qasim was serving them breakfast.

"The driver is on leave today, so I'm getting late."

"What? Who gave him leave?" Sultana was surprised. Then she remembered, she had given him the leave herself. "Oh yes, I did." She smiled slightly.

"I'll drop you," Fateh said to Amar while drinking juice.

"No, it's okay. I'll go by myself."

"How can that be? I'm here, so why would you go alone?" Fateh insisted.

"If your brother is saying he'll drop you, then he will," Sultana sided with Fateh. Amar fell silent.

"Shall we?"

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?"

"You're getting late. I'll have it when I get back."

"You sit; I'll drop her at the university. Have your breakfast comfortably." Behram stood up and took out the car to drop Amar at the university.

"What do you do?" Behram asked Amar.

"I study."

"Good. Study more," Behram replied sarcastically to her comment, but she didn't catch it.

"How is your job? I mean, is it tough or...?"

"It's fine. It's good. I'm satisfied," he answered, eyes on the road as he drove. The light turned red, and he stopped.

"Give me some advice too. What should I do in the future?"

"Do what you like."

"What if I can't do what I like?"

"There are many options and there will be more. Choose any of them."

Amar didn't find his answer satisfactory and fell into thought. She sensed that Behram wasn't very interested in talking to her, so she remained silent. Behram dropped her off outside the university gate and then returned home.

When he came back, he saw Furqan's car parked outside. Furqan had come over.

Behram went inside; Furqan was sitting in the guest room.

"That file..." Behram asked him for the file.

"Sir, I couldn't find the file," Furqan said, worried.

"What? Do you even know what you're saying? My signatures were on that file."

"I know, sir. I remember, I was the one who kept it, but now..." Furqan was speaking politely.

"Now what? Do you know what could happen if it gets into someone's hands? I could lose my job, I could go to jail. Furqan, get me that file. From anywhere...anyhow. Do anything." Behram was enunciating each word.

"Yes, sir, I'll check the cameras," Furqan suggested a solution.

"Right now. This instant." Behram's mind lit up with the idea. "Get up, go right now." He snapped his fingers, sending Furqan off immediately.

When he looked up, he saw Fateh standing there, arms crossed, watching him.

"What?" Behram suspected that he had overheard everything.

"This is why I don't want to get into this field," Fateh said.

"Because of what?" Behram stood up.

"The easier it is to commit a sin, the harder it is to cover it up. It can't be hidden. Just look at yourself; a small, just a small mistake is about to cause your downfall."

"You wouldn't understand. Everything is under my control," Behram smiled triumphantly.

"Hmmph," Fateh turned his face away.

Qasim came in and placed two glasses of juice on the table, glancing at the two of them standing right in front of each other. Then he left.

"Consider this your own home. Sit down, let's talk," Fateh stepped back and sat down. Behram also sat on the single sofa, crossing his legs.

"Why are you taking extra courses? Just so you have all the knowledge in the world, so you're considered a master of every subject? Well, listen, Uncle Ibrahim will ask you to appear in the exams this year. Then you'll be part of the same system that I'm in today."

Fateh was surprised. He had absolutely no idea about this.

"Even if I become part of this system, I will never become a puppet dancing to someone's tune. I will do what I want and keep the system within my control."

"You? You'll do that?" Behram laughed heartily. "Ha ha, poor Fateh, poor you. There was a time when I said the exact same words, but I was facing my father, a man ruined by the system. Today, I am his shadow. What do you think you are?" Behram shook his head.

"I am me. I am Fateh," he smiled arrogantly and proudly.

"A son can never surpass his father. No matter how much you struggle, you'll get trapped. Has anyone ever escaped this mire?" Behram took a sip of juice from the glass.

"This time, you'll be handed a case."

"What kind of case?" Fateh leaned forward slightly.

"Just a bit of dealing."

"Dealing of what?"

"Money. That is power!"

"Money? Dealing? Me? Never." He stood up.

Just then, Malikah with Taimoor entered the room. Taimoor looked at Behram with piercing eyes. Behram understood the reason for Taimoor's presence. He placed the glass of juice on the table and stood up.

"Why?" Taimoor asked in a wounded tone. "You said you would...Kashmala..." He paused, his voice filled with agony. He took a breath. "You gave me your word, didn't you?"

"I did nothing. Kashmala is alive," Behram stepped forward.

"What if she had died?" Taimoor shouted, so loudly that Malikah shook.

"It would be better if you asked Niaz Sikandar about this. It was his plan; I only gave the money to that man," Behram defended himself.

"Why did you even give the money?" Taimoor's nerves were fraying. "Ayan is my friend, and Kashmala is his wife. I don't want to ruin my relationship with them. I value my friendship. I want to maintain this bond."

"So, what about me? Where do I stand in all this? I kept Kashmala safe. I did. But you wouldn't understand. Am I not helpless? If Kashmala wasn't shot at, my father would have cut ties with me. If she was shot and died, I would have lost my brother. I... I'm drowning from all sides." Behram, filled with anguish, moved closer to Taimoor. His pain was evident. Kashmala was in pain, Taimur was in pain, and Ayan was in pain too. Fateh observed both of them.

"Kashmala... Samaira's sister?" Fateh clarified his doubt.

"Yes," Behram replied to Fateh, looking straight into Taimoor's eyes.

"Alright," Taimoor stepped back. "I am ending this matter."

"And this relationship too?" Behram asked hopefully. He wanted Taimoor to always be with him.

"No. But you have fulfilled the duty of being a 'stepbrother'. Thank you very much." Casting a stern glance at Behram, he walked out.

Behram's heart shattered. He had possibly lost a relationship. In a state of disbelief, he watched Taimoor leave. Taimoor, who used to be 'with' him, always there through thick and thin, had now walked away, estranged.

Malikah looked at Fateh. Fateh stepped forward and placed a hand on Behram's shoulder.

"It's okay. Once his anger cools down, Taimoor will come back," Fateh's words were insufficient to console him.

"Often, those who leave never come back," Malikah's voice came. Fateh turned his head to look at the girl standing to his right.

Behram raised his head, looked around, and then, lowering his head, he walked away.

"At least some consolation could have been given. Taimoor called him 'stepbrother,'" Fateh said, addressing Malikah.

"Yes, because he is a stepbrother. Today, Taimoor showed his true colors. He might never come back," Malikah said, looking towards the door through which Taimoor had exited.

"And if he comes back?"

"It's very likely that such people come back for their own selfish interests." This sixteen-year-old girl has seen a lot in life.

"It's not necessary, dear Malikah." Fateh smiled at her words. Just smiled. Malikah looked at him with shining eyes. She remained silent for a moment.

"Your smile... it's very beautiful."

Fateh remained silent. Malikah glanced at him and then picked up the tray from the table. Fateh looked at her. Malikah looked back at him and then turned towards the kitchen.

From these darknesses, I will take you away

I will show you the light

It had been eight days since the incident. Kashmala had been discharged from the hospital and had come home. The wound was still fresh and not yet healed. The pain was still there. Ayan was standing on the balcony with Rania. It was evening time. The window was open, and he could see Kashmala. Resting her head against the headboard, she looked sad.

"Mama, Mama," Rania pointed towards Kashmala. Ayan, carrying Rania, entered the room and placed her beside Kashmala. Wrapping her arms around Rania, Kashmala lovingly ran her hand through her hair.

"What’s the matter?"

"Nothing."

Ayan sat down beside her. He knew that Kashmala was upset.

"Tell me, what’s wrong?"

"Ammi... at least she should have come. She didn't come either! Am I really that bad?" Something inside Kashmala was breaking and mending repeatedly. She couldn't understand it.

"It's okay, maybe she had some compulsion," Ayan reassured her.

"Yeah, right!" Kashmala replied sarcastically. 

"Don't worry. It's nothing. I'm here for you." He kissed her forehead.

"If I had died, would she still have had a compulsion, Ayan?"

"What are you talking about, Kashmala? Please, don't overthink. Go to sleep." Ayan covered her with a comforter and laid her down.

"Were you scared?" Ayan's hands stopped. Kashmala, lying down, was looking at him. She could sense his face, read his eyes.

"I'll ask Mahenoor to change Rania's clothes." Ayan tried to change the subject.

"Do you love me this much?" Kashmala knew, she understood.

"Having you in front of me is enough." He took Rania and went outside.

"Mahenoor, please change Rania's clothes." Mahenoor was helping Shayan with his homework.

"Okay, Bhai!" Mahenoor took Rania from Ayan's arms.

"Clothes?" Mahenoor noticed Ayan didn't have any clothes in his hands.

"Oh, I forgot. I'll get them." 

Ayan went back to the room and took out clothes from the wardrobe.

"I was so lost in thoughts of you that I started forgetting things. You're the only thing I remember," he said to Kashmala while taking out the clothes.

Kashmala smiled in response. Ayan handed the clothes to Mahenoor. Then he returned to the room with Rania.

"I'll put Rania to sleep, and then I'll apply new ointment to your wound." Ayan put Rania to bed. After she fell asleep, he took out the medicine box. He removed Kashmala's bandage, gently cleaned the wound, and applied the ointment. The wound started to sting.

"Ouch! It feels like they've given me a lifelong ailment," Kashmala winced in pain.

"Oh, come on! Complaining now?" Ayan paused and looked at her, then continued applying the ointment.

"I'm amazed."

"Junaid is investigating. You'll see, Junaid will fix everything," Ayan said as he put the medicine back.

"There are only a few people I can rely on now," Kashmala sighed.

"And among those few, what number am I?"

"At the very top!"

Ayan brushed her hair away from her neck.

"As long as you are here... everything is good. I don't need anything else," Ayan gently held her hands.

"For now, I need food," Kashmala laughed. "I'm very hungry."

"Come on, let's go." Ayan handed her shoes. Kashmala got up, and they both sat at the dining table, where Junaid, Khizar, Aneesa, Shayan, and Ashir were seated. Mahenoor served the curry, and Samaira brought the roti.

Everyone started eating. Khizar broke a piece of bread and began to eat.

"I made this, you should try it," Samaira said, picking a bread from the middle of the pot and handing it to Khizar. The bread was of an amorphous shape.

Everyone noticed that the roti was half-burnt.

"Poor Khizar Bhai, such cruelty has befallen him," Aneesa laughed. "Now you'll have to eat this roti by force.

"It's not that bad, I made it fine. It's just not round, but it's cooked well. You can't even make this," Samaira scolded Aneesa.

Khizar reluctantly ate the roti, cursing the moment he had taught Samaira how to make it.

"Your great achievement will earn you the Tamgha-e-Shujaat from the army," Junaid whispered into Khizar's ear and then stepped back. Khizar discreetly punched him.

"Samaira, did you make any other roti?" Khizar asked Samaira, who was eating the roti Mahenoor had made.

"Yes, I made three," Samaira replied.

"Why, do you like them so much that you want to eat them all?" Ayan asked in surprise.

"No, Bhai. Junaid wanted some. Give him one, Samaira."

Samaira handed another burnt roti to Junaid. He reluctantly took it and started eating.

"I thought my friend should enjoy it too. I never take pleasure in anything alone. You will always be my first priority. I promise you," Khizar mocked him.

"Come to the room, I'll show you," they continued to taunt each other in hushed tones.

"Ammi called," Mahenoor said, looking specifically at Samaira and Junaid. "Abu wants to arrange your weddings." Aneesa quickly looked up. "Did she mean me?" she thought.

"Not yours. Samaira and Junaid," Mahenoor clarified, and Aneesa breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wow, you’re going to be a married man now," Khizar teased Junaid, grinning. "Good luck finding someone who will actually give their daughter to you."

"Who to?" Samaira asked in an exasperated tone.

"Ammi and Abu have chosen Mashal for Junaid and Kashan for you," Mahenoor explained.

"Kashan? Uncle Parvez's son?" Aneesa asked.

"Yes."

"Uncle Parvez? The one who slapped Ammi?" Her tone grew bitter. Everyone present turned their faces towards Aneesa.

"Will you marry Kashan?" Ignoring everyone else, she looked directly at Samaira. Now all eyes were on Samaira. She shook her head in refusal.

"Very good," Aneesa appreciated her decision.

"Be quiet. How many times have I told you not to interrupt when elders are talking?" Mahenoor scolded her into silence.

"Fine. I'm leaving," she said, getting up and walking away without eating.

"Come back," Mahenoor called after her, but she left. "No one is asking for your permission. Ammi and Abu's decision is final, and this is their decision," Mahenoor told Junaid and Samaira clearly.

"Ayan, I don't want to eat anymore," Kashmala pushed her plate away.

"Why? Eat a little more, you still need to take your medicine," Ayan said, offering her a bite, but she refused and stood up.

"That's enough. Please, let's go to the room." Ayan saw her mood was off.

"Okay." He got up and went to the room with her. Ayan handed her a tablet. Kashmala swallowed it with water.

"Ashir?" Kashmala looked towards the door.

"Samaira is with him. Don't worry."

"He is our son. Bring him here," Kashmala said in a very serious tone.

"What happened?" Ayan noticed her sudden change in behavior.

"Bring him here. We will leave for Kakul tomorrow." Kashmala's sudden decision surprised him.

"When did we decide this? Your wound isn't fully healed yet."

"Forget these wounds. The ones that aren't visible are deeper." Tears welled up in Kashmala's eyes. She wasn't crying, but the tears were there.

"Start packing so we won't have any trouble in the morning. And yes... inform Khizar as well."

"Okay, okay. But what happened? Why all of a sudden?"

"I will only find pain if I stay here. I do not want to live in such an environment. Ayan, I want to be free from this pain forever. The paths back only bring me more pain." A lump appeared in Kashmala's throat. She removed her dupatta, put it aside, and lay down. Ayan looked at her helplessly. Today was a difficult time for them. Kashmala's parents were not there for her when she needed them.

Ayan got up and took out the bag. He started packing. He kept putting things in the bag. He took all the clothes out of the closet, removed them from the hangers, and began to put them in the bag. Kashmala lay there silently, staring at the ceiling. She felt something warm on her temples. It was water, just water, wasted as it came out of her eyes.

"Bring Ashir. We'll leave after Fajr prayer," Kashmala reminded Ayan once again.

"Yes, alright," Ayan replied. He finished packing, zipped up the bag, and stood up, leaning on the bag for support. He turned off the lights.

When he went outside, Aneesa was sitting on the floor with a cushion, working on a puzzle on the table. Khizar was sitting on the sofa, guiding her. She was resisting his help; she wanted to do it herself.

"Where is Ashir?" Ayan asked Khizar.

"He's with Samaira. He'll sleep there. He's developed quite an understanding with Shayan," Khizar replied with a slight smile, then returned his attention to the puzzle, where a character from Sonic Dash was forming.

"Khizar... you should pack because we are leaving for Kakul at 3 AM. Okay?" Aneesa looked at Ayan involuntarily.

"Is everything alright? Why suddenly?" Khizar inquired.

"Yes, well... we've been here long enough. It's time to go back. It doesn't feel right staying like this..." Ayan fabricated a reason.

"Did someone say something? Did Mahenoor say anything?" Aneesa didn't want them to leave.

"Oh no, no. One should have some self-awareness, right?" Ayan smiled. "You do the packing so we won't be late tomorrow," he said to Khizar and then left.

"Are you really leaving?" Aneesa asked Khizar sadly.

"Yes, we'll have to go." He stood up. "I'll start packing."

Aneesa stood leaning against the door of his room. Khizar smiled at her, then took out his bag and began packing.

"Will you miss me?"

"I'll miss you the most."

"Then stay. It's always fun when you guys are here. Stay for a few more days, please," Aneesa pleaded.

"I would stay if it weren't for my brother and sister-in-law's decision. We have to go. But we'll come back someday."

"Someday? When? Years pass by, and you don't come back."

"Who doesn't come back?" Just then, Junaid entered the room and began helping Khizar pack.

"You sit down; I'll do it." Junaid took the bag from Khizar and started folding the items neatly into the bag, placing each thing with precision.

"You didn't give me the prayer mat," Khizar reminded her.

"Oh, yes. I'll get it right away." Remembering, she quickly ran to fetch it.

"Here you go," she said, handing the prayer mat to Khizar. He opened it to inspect it. It was a white velvet prayer mat with red roses painted on all four corners. In the center, where one places their forehead, there was an image of a dome with two arches on either side.

"I will take great care of this. Thank you for such a wonderful gift. Every time I pray, I will remember you and pray for you," Khizar said.

Aneesa looked at him. Was he really telling the truth? Could someone actually remember her? She glanced at the bag with empty eyes. It was ready. Junaid had pushed it aside and sat down next to Khizar.

"You should go and sleep," Junaid said to Aneesa as he saw her standing there. She didn't want to leave but left anyway.

"She will miss me," Khizar said, lowering his head and speaking to Junaid.

"Probably a lot," Junaid chuckled slightly.

"She feels like her good times pass by too quickly."

"It’s the same for everyone. She is one of those who are more sensitive."

"Maybe." Khizar looked at Junaid with an expressionless face. When does time seem merciless? Is time really merciless, or are it the memories of the past? There was something beyond understanding. But he, too, wanted to stay.

Those who profess one-sided love remain steadfast,

But from you, even two-sided love was never reciprocated.

Shehroz had a daughter. Everyone was happy except for Farhana. Farhana stayed in the hospital with her daughter. Naheed was also present there. Everything was fine. Samaira was holding the new born baby in her hands, showering her with love. Farhana's heart was sad at the birth of her granddaughter, but she was happy in everyone's happiness.

"I will name her," Samaira said to Shehroz.

"Alright," Shehroz seemed quite happy.

"Oh my God, I am so happy! A doll will run around in our house!" Samaira was over the moon with joy.

Aneesa was at home with Uzair. Omar was also there. Mashal was in Lahore with Naveed and had not come.

"They left themselves and left this burden on me." Aneesa said angrily, placing the kettle on the stove. Uzair was insisting on having tea with less tea leaves. Aneesa found it difficult to manage him. Uzair stood beside her.

"Shall I ask Uncle to make the tea?" Uzair said innocently. She said nothing, frowning. Uzair grabbed her dupatta and tried to get her attention.

"Move away, what's the problem?" Aneesa pushed him away. He almost fell but managed to stay on his feet and started crying.

"Tea is being made, can't you see? Uncle, uncle, uncle. That's all you ever talk about!" Aneesa shouted at him.

"What happened?" Imar came in.

"Aunt pushed me." Uzair clung to Omar.

"Did you push him?"

"Yes, I did." Aneesa turned towards Omar. "Because I can't handle him, with his constant new demands... I'm already fed up." 

"Then don't do it." Omar shouted and pushed her aside to make the tea himself. "I'm here. I'll make it." Omar looked at Uzair and smiled. Aneesa felt standing there was pointless, so she went and sat outside in the veranda. She could see the kitchen scene. Omar was showing affection to Uzair. Then he poured tea into a cup and blew on it to cool it down. After cooling it, he gave the tea to Uzair. He then took out his mobile and called Samaira, asking her to come home.

A little while later, Samaira arrived home. The four of them were sitting in the veranda. Samaira was talking about the baby.

"She's just like me, so cute. And you know what? Shehroz said I could decide the baby's name." Samaira was brimming with joy.

Omar was smiling at her words, while Aneesa was watching her in astonishment.

"It would have been fun if Mashal were here too. She would have seen the little doll."

"Yes, but she had to stay with Dad." Omar explained why Mishal couldn't come and started to leave. It was a single-story house with five rooms in a row and two on the left side. The kitchen was on the right side. Omar was climbing the stairs to go to the roof.

"Doesn't he have any work to do?" At Aneesa's voice, Omar slowed down a bit.

"Who? Omar?" Samaira sat down with her legs up on the sofa.

"Yes."

"Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"Omar is going to Europe."

Omar's eyes closed.

"What?" Aneesa was shocked. This was the first shocking news for her.

"Yes, after the wedding. He will continue his job there too. Hopefully, he will get a good one, considering he has a degree from the US," Samaira mentioned casually. "There isn't much scope for dermatology here... you know..." She paused.

"Wedding?" This was the second shocking news. Omar's grip tightened on the railing.

"Yes, to Uncle Azhar's daughter, Anum." The third shocking news. Omar, who had stopped on the stairs, was now filled with regret.

"With Anum? Who told you?" 

"Aunty Farhana mentioned it at the hospital today. The date is also fixed. In October, InshaAllah."

"Don't say InshaAllah," Omar pleaded in his heart.

"And what else did she say?" She wanted to know more, feeling a heavy weight in his heart.

"Nothing much... just..."Then she mentioned Junaid",  Samaira was telling the rest, but he couldn't hear anything. The only words he could hear were "Omar," "wedding," "October," and "Europe." That's all. Everything seemed to be ending here. He would leave forever. Imar started walking and reached the roof. He stood by the railing.

The street view was clear. He could see the small mountains in the distance. There was only one thought in his mind.

"How must she feel, knowing I'm getting married? And to Anum!"

Omar had never had the courage to tell her this, he simply didn't have the strength.

"Samaira did the right thing by telling her; I had kept her tangled with me unnecessarily." As he thought this, Umar shook his head, but the thought didn't leave his heart. Nor was it meant to. He was caught in a love that only brought him pain.

"Maybe she hadn't considered anyone else as her partner but me." Thinking this, he sat down on the cot.

"What will her life be like... without knowing if I'll be in it? If only I had tried a little harder. Maybe our paths would have aligned. Then she would be here at my home. With me." Omar smiled as he thought this and lay back. The sky became clearly visible, a vast open sky, like a large roof. He saw pigeons flying in the sky, free. Free from every relationship, every sorrow, every worry.

"I wish I were a bird," Omar suddenly sat up, and Aneesa was standing there. "Then I would be free and fly away, never to return."

"You once said you would be there for me, that you would listen to me whenever I called for you... but you are leaving, never to return." She was smiling in anguish. There was nothing left in her tone, the anger had subsided.

"It's good you didn't tell me yourself; it would have hurt me more." A tear fell from her eye.

Omar sat silently, watching her. Her lips became even more pink as she cried, followed by her nose.

"How nice it would have been if we had never met. Or if I hadn't had that first meeting with you at the age of fourteen. I wish... Can time turn back? Can all the reasons for pain disappear?"

Omar felt like she would kill him.

"What could I have told you? It would have hurt you."

"Am I happy now?"

Omar pulled her by the hand and made her sit next to him on the cot.

"Omar! You weren't like this. Was it something else? Was it this?"

"Yes." Omar nodded.

"Is Anum more beautiful than me?"

Omar looked at her face, which was incredibly beautiful. She was beautiful, and Omar wanted her. He wanted to touch her face, but he felt bound by chains; he couldn't do it.

"Are you marrying of your own will?"

"Yes." He gave a brief answer and then fell silent. "Can you wait?" When he spoke again, he asked her a question.

"Wait for what, Omar?"

"If I ever come back..."

"When? With yours?" Aneesa was angry at him. Why was he doing this?

"You should move on too, Omar. I will forget you." She gave him advice.

"Forget you? How? Can you forget me? And those memories? Is it easy to forget all that?"

"Then don't marry Anum... leave her..." Aneesa offered a solution. "You want both at the same time? That's not possible, Omar Naveed." She stood up. Omar also stood up.

"I am marrying her only because my mother asked me to. I can marry you too." Aneesa looked at him with wounded eyes, shocked by what he had just said. "I will keep you happy. Closest to my heart."

"And then tomorrow, if your mother asks, will you divorce me?"

"That won't happen." Omar held her by the shoulders.

"That's exactly what will happen. That's exactly what will happen, Omar!" Aneesa shook off his hands and stood away from him. "Today, you're marrying because your mother told you to, and tomorrow you'll divorce because she says so. It hurts me today, and it will hurt tomorrow. And it will hurt more tomorrow. I wish you didn't exist. Or I didn't. You'll get out of this swamp, and I'll be stuck. Bravo, Omar..."

A car horn sounded. Shehroz had returned home with everyone. Naheed was holding the baby. Sahira got out of the car smiling. Uzair ran towards her.

Aneesa watched from the balcony. Omar stood next to her. They both came downstairs. Samaira took the baby girl from Naheed and sat down on the sofa. Omar sat next to her and looked at the baby.

"Come here," Samaira called Aneesa over.

Aneesa sat on the sofa with her legs up. Samaira placed the baby in her lap.

"She'll fall," Aneesa said, scared.

"Nothing will happen, just hold her," Samaira insisted forcefully.

"She's cute, isn't she?" Omar touched the baby's cheeks.

"Y-yes," Aneesa replied, panting. She was afraid of babies, especially newborns. They were so delicate that even a slight rough touch could hurt them.

Uzair was standing right next to Aneesa. Omar got up and sat down on her right side, taking the baby from her lap. The baby started crying, so Naheed stepped forward and took her from Omar.

Everyone seemed happy. Uzair was clapping and repeatedly touching his little sister's cheeks.

It was a moment of joy. Everyone was quite cheerful, and happiness was evident.

Yesterday, we narrated our story in such a manner,

Everyone in the gathering thought it was their own story.

"How long will you keep humiliating yourself in front of Imar? Let it go, it's just a matter of time, everything will be fine." Samaira was arranging clothes in the wardrobe. Aneesa was sitting with her laptop open. Her email account was set up. It was eight o'clock in the evening.

In the room, there were two single beds placed a little apart.

"Did I say anything now? Just let it go."

"You let it go. Admit he was never yours." Samaira started making her bed.

"Look at this, my new Spangram." Aneesa ignored her words and showed her the laptop. The screen displayed words in English prominently.

"What am I saying and what are you talking about!" Samaira closed the laptop screen.

"Please, I'm not in the mood to discuss this right now."

She got up from the bed, put on her shoes, and went into the washroom. She left the washroom door open. Standing in front of the basin, she looked at herself in the mirror and started washing her face with Ponds facewash. She splashed water on her face and wiped her wet face with the corner of her dupatta. Samaira kept watching her. Tossing her long open hair aside in frustration, she lay down. She picked up her mobile and started solving word puzzles.

Samaira also lay down. She started staring at the ceiling. The phone rang. It was a call from Kashan. Samaira answered the call.

"Hello!"

"Which hospital are you at these days?" Kashan asked.

"Government."

"Okay. I was thinking of continuing the job with you."

"Okay." Samaira responded with just one word.

"Who is it?" Aneesa asked softly, turning towards her. Samaira gestured for her to stay quiet.

"Yes. You must know about our wedding..."

"Kashan... we 'were' colleagues. You never mentioned that after the training, you would propose to me." Samaira interrupted him. "Did you know beforehand?"

"Why, didn't you like it? Or don't you like me?" came the question from the other side.

"Put it on speaker," Aneesa softly suggested. Samaira put the phone on speaker and placed it on the table between the beds. Now Aneesa could clearly hear their conversation.

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like? When we were colleagues, you used to talk to me. Now? Now there's no message, no call. You haven't even inquired about my well-being. You could have asked as a cousin at least."

"Oh, so you both used to talk." Aneesa glared at Samaira. Samaira raised her eyebrows and told Aneesa to stay out of it.

"What should I say and what should I message? There’s never anything important to talk about."

"It’s not necessary that you only think of me when there’s work."

Kashan had many questions. Samaira had no answer to any of them.

"Kashan... I can't marry you." Exhausted, Samaira finally said.

"Can I know the reason?"

"The reason... is trivial to you. I don't want to hurt you by telling you."

"It's okay. I won't be hurt."

"It's very late. I need to sleep. Please don't make unnecessary calls. It's not good. Allah Hafiz." Saying this, Samaira hung up the call.

"You did the right thing. Very well done." Aneesa turned over and resumed playing her game. "Let him realize what they did to our mother. Hmph."

"By the way, Aneesa... Kashan probably doesn't know about this. How would he know?" Samaira thought about Kashan for a moment.

"Stop it, sister. He's not that innocent either. He's no fool," Aneesa said, gesturing authoritatively at Samaira.

"He really doesn't know. We were always just friends. We never talked about it. Neither did he, nor did I." Samaira started twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "But I never thought... that he would want to marry me."

"And look at me. No one wants to marry me." Aneesa glanced away from her mobile.

"Like seriously!" Samaira looked at her in annoyance.

A notification tone was heard. The laptop light turned on.

"Go to sleep." Samaira pulled the blanket over herself and started to sleep. Aneesa picked up the laptop from the side table and turned it on.

She opened the email app. An email was received from Malikah-sfa01@gmail.com.

"Hi, my name is Malikah. I created your email address. Would you like to accept my friendship?"

"Samaira... Samaira. Who made your email account?" Aneesa pulled the blanket off Samaira.

"What is it? Let me sleep."

"Look, Malikah..."

"Yeah, maybe Malikah made it. Now let me sleep."

"You know her? Malikah?"

"Yes." She was feeling sleepy.

"What kind of girl is she?"

"She's very nice. Please let me sleep now." Samaira turned over.

Aneesa turned her attention back to the laptop.

"Okay. But I want to know more about you," Aneesa typed and sent the email.

A reply came quickly. Malikah was likely online at that moment.

"I know you through Samaira. Here’s my introduction:

Name: Malikah

Residence: Lahore

Age: 17

And most importantly, 'for you,' Muslim. More in our next conversation?"

Aneesa read the email.

"And what do you study?"

"I just gave my second-year intermediate exams. What about you?"

"I also just finished my exams."

Malikah started typing another email.

"I live in Lahore, so can we meet sometime? Can you ever come here? I can send you my address and invite you to my home. I hope you can come to Lahore sometime and we can meet. I want to see you. What do you look like! Let me know when you’re coming.

To: Aneesa-sfa01@gmail.com

Aneesa smiled as she read each word. She enjoyed the conversation.

"Yes, definitely. I'll let you know when I come there. Then we can decide where to meet."

She typed and sent this message, waiting for a reply. The wait seemed unbearable. After five minutes, she thought Malikah might have gone to sleep, so she closed the laptop.

Now she eagerly anticipated her trip to Lahore to meet Malikah.

She kept imagining what Malikah would look like. She was excited about having a new friend and being able to talk openly.

A web of spider formed again.

"And Sania! She has my pictures. Oh no. I shouldn't end my friendship with her. Even if she deceived me, I can't risk my pictures." Aneesa closed her eyes and looked at Samaira. Samaira had her back turned towards Aneesa and was asleep. Aneesa's eyes were wide open, but she closed them.

Maybe life will be beautiful, and dreams will be colorful!!!

Tell those who cry to cry for them too

Whom the compulsion of circumstances didn't let cry

Kashmala and Ayan were going to meet Batool at her house today. Their village, located far from the city, was in a somewhat deserted area. Ayan was driving the car on the unpaved road. The car was bouncing repeatedly. He was driving carefully. Khizar was also with them. However, the children were left at home because it wasn’t suitable to bring them on such a long journey.

The dust-covered car stopped in front of Batool's house.

"Will you go inside? There might be others, and they observe purdah," Ayan said as he opened the door for Kashmala.

"Abdul Qudoos must be at home, I'll send him to you," Kashmala said as she entered the house. The house was simple, with simple people living in it. Upon entering, she saw a woman kneading dough. She was Batool's aunt. Kashmala recognized her immediately because Batool often mentioned her aunt to Kashmala.

The woman saw Kashmala and washed her hands before coming over to her. Kashmala was still standing at the door.

"Who?" Ruqayya asked as she approached.

"I am Kashmala, a lawyer from Batool..."

"Oh, I see, I see. Madam, please come in," Ruqayya recognized her even before Kashmala could introduce herself. She led her into the room where Batool was reading the Quran.

When Batool saw Kashmala, she respectfully wrapped the Quran in its cover and placed it on a high shelf.

"How are you?" Kashmala smiled and hugged her.

"Abu..." Batool started crying.

"I heard," Kashmala said, holding her close. It had been a month since her father's death. The wounds were fresh and became even more so. The corners of Kashmala's eyes began to moisten as well. Ruqayya, standing to the side, wiped her tears with the corners of her dupatta.

"Be patient," Kashmala consoled her. Sometimes words fail to provide comfort and only bring more tears. Batool continued to cry.

"Be patient," Ruqayya seated Batool on the charpoy. Batool sat silently, letting her tears flow.

"How are you, Madam? I heard you got shot," Ruqayya said rapidly.

"Yes, I'm fine," Kashmala replied, though she was still in pain. Because of the dupatta on her head, Ruqayya couldn't see her wounds and kept sharing her own sorrows.

"Our world has fallen apart. Poor Abdullah couldn't even see the happiness of his children. Who will support them now? Oh, the times have been cruel, Madam. Took him away. Took our Abdullah away. Ohhh," Ruqayya lamented.

Just then, Abdul Qudoos entered.

"Assalamu Alaikum, sister. How are you?" Abdul Qudoos greeted Kashmala.

"Walaikum Assalam, Abdul Qudoos. I'm fine. How are you?"

"How could he be, Madam? Ever since his father died, the boy has been so down," Ruqayya interjected.

"Did you come alone?" Abdul Qudoos respectfully asked Kashmala.

"No, Ayan is with me. And my brother-in-law, Khizar, too."

"Bring them inside," Ruqayya quickly instructed Abdul Qudoos. "What will they do sitting outside in the guest room?"

Kashmala looked at Batool, who seemed to have no objection to Ayan, but she was concerned about Khizar.

"You can come to the other room with me," Batool said to Kashmala.

"It's alright, she can stay here. It's her husband, not a stranger," Ruqayya smiled at Kashmala. Batool left the room. Abdul Qudoos brought Khizar and Ayan inside.

Kashmala didn't like Ruqayya's attitude, but being a guest, she remained silent.

"Let's recite Fatiha," Ayan said as he sat down and raised his hands for prayer. Everyone recited Fatiha and offered condolences to Abdul Qudoos.

"Abdul Qudoos! Go and get some cold Pepsi." Ruqayya handed him some money tied in the corner of her dupatta.

"Oh no, no... We came to offer our condolences. There's no need for that," Kashmala stopped Abdul Qudoos.

"Oh, come on, you've come all this way, you must have something. In fact, I insist you stay for a meal," Ruqayya persisted.

At Ruqayya's insistence, Ayan looked at Kashmala, as if to ask, 'What's going on?'

Kashmala herself was surprised. Ruqayya forcibly sent Abdul Qudoos to the shop.

"Look at our situation now, we're ruined... The girl's honor was lost, and our whole household was destroyed. Who will take care of these children now?" Ruqayya continued her lament.

"Please be patient. Both siblings will manage everything," Ayan consoled her.

"I've spoken about a job for Abdul Qudoos, he will get it, InshaAllah," Kashmala said with a reassuring smile.

But Ruqayya seemed to have other concerns.

"Money can come, but what about honor? What will happen to Batool? Who will marry her?"

Kashmala felt saddened. The three of them sat with their heads bowed, listening to Ruqayya's complaints and cries.

"Madam, if you don't mind, can I say something?" Ruqayya wiped her tears.

"Yes, yes, of course," Kashmala replied.

"You accept the relationship with Batool for your brother-in-law Khizar," Ruqayya's statement stunned everyone. No one present had even thought about this, and Ruqayya just blurted it out.

"For the sake of serving humanity? It will be good for our daughter," Ruqayya folded her hands.

"What are you doing?" Kashmala stood up, holding her hands firmly.

"We are compelled. Understand our compulsion," Ruqayya pleaded.

Khizar got up and left, troubled by Ruqayya's words.

Outside, a girl was standing, filling water from the tap. Khizar was standing behind her. He didn't stop, just left. He sat in the car after returning.

He didn't know what was going on inside. After a while, Abdul Qudoos came back. He was surprised to see Khizar.

"He is doing what outside?"  He parked the motorcycle next to the house gate. A bottle of cold drink was hanging in his hand. And he came near the car.

"What are you doing here?" 

"Just... like that."

"Come in," Abdul Qudoos said sincerely, so he couldn't refuse and entered.

He seated them in his room and served Kashmala and Ayan cold drinks. He brought a glass for Khizar to his room, where Khizar was sitting.

He kept talking to Khizar. Both of them kept discussing their sorrows and hardships.

Talking to Abdul Qudoos made him realize that perhaps he was unaware of his aunt's situation.

"We are only three people left in the house now. My sister has completed her education and goes to school to teach. And I am also looking for a job," Abdul Qudoos was telling him about himself.

"Don't you do anything?" 

"I'm currently at the shop. Also, preparing for the test. I had applied for a teaching position," Abdul Qudoos replied.

"Oh, I see! And how's it going?" 

"Good, by Allah's grace," Khizar smiled. He took a sip from his glass. There was a knock on the door. It was Batool. She was standing outside. Abdul Qudoos went to the door and listened to her.

"Will these people stay or go back?" Batool asked.

"They'll go back. But you do one thing, start serving food because they've traveled a long distance... it's not good," Abdul Qudoos said.

"Okay," she turned back.

Abdul Qudoos returned with Khizar and sat down. Ayan also came into the same room where they both were sitting.

Kashmala was sitting on the bench with Batool, talking to her.

"May I ask you something?" Batool asked after a moment's thought. 

"Yes," Kashmala nodded.

"Who shot you?" The question made Kashmala's wounds ache. She looked around, her vision swaying, faces of loved ones flashing before her eyes.

"I don't know. But my brother will find out. Don't worry, everything is fine now," she reassured.

"Everything is fine now?" Batool, in a melancholic tone, turned her face away and began to cry.

"It will be fine, Batool. I will handle everything. And our communication will continue. Abdul Qudoos has our number. If there is any problem, just inform us without hesitation. We'll come over," Kashmala stepped forward and hugged her. Batool wiped her tears and started preparing food. The burden on her heart lightened slightly.

After eating, they began to leave. Ruqayya came to the door to bid them farewell.

Khizar sat on the driving seat. Kashmala sat on the rear seat. Khizar was driving silently.

"Khizar..." Ayan addressed him.

"Yes, brother?"

"We have decided to say yes for the proposal."

"What? So you've decided to sacrifice me for 'serving humanity'?"

"No, we haven't said yes yet. We told them that we'll think about it." Ayan mentally prepared him. 

"Think about it? Or have you already made up your mind? Bhabhi, you?" Khizar saw Kashmala in the rearview mirror.

"It was not her, it was me who decided. And Mom won't object either. (She couldn't anyway) And we'll get married simply on the same Friday." Ayan explained in detail.

"See?" Khizar saw Kashmala in the mirror. "He just said, "Think about it," and here... he had already thought it through."

",How was I supposed to know that their aunt would ask for your marriage!" Kashmala said helplessly.

"She looks good, she's a good girl," Ayan reassured Khizar.

"Looks can be deceiving. There are plenty of good people out there," Khizar replied sternly. "How is she?"

"She looks just like Samaira and Aneesa," Kashmala replied with a smile.

"But she's not Aneesa!"

"What do you mean?" Ayan was puzzled.

"Nothing. I have a headache." He changed the subject.

"Should I drive?" Kashmala said.

"No. It's okay, Bhabhi." Khizar's headache intensified, but he kept driving.

There is still destruction yet to come

There is still annihilation to happen

The room was silent. Pitch dark. Inside, there was emptiness. Lying on the bed, Behram had his arm over his eyes. He was awake.

"You have fulfilled the duty of being a step-brother. Thank you very much." These words of Taimoor pierced his heart like an arrow. He felt the lack of true relationships. This regret was keeping him awake. He sat up and leaned his head against the headboard. He started turning the lamp on and off. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said loudly with his eyes closed.

Jahan Ara entered. She saw that the entire room was dark. She turned on the light. Behram's eyes squinted at the bright light.

"Please, Mom... leave the light off," Behram said.

Jahan Ara walked over and sat next to him on the bed.

"What's the matter?" she asked, lovingly running her hand through his hair.

"Nothing... maybe because I was on patrol last night... maybe that's why I'm feeling tired," he sounded exhausted.

"Oh. Let me tell Kauser to send you some turmeric milk, okay?"

"Kausar... You've hired her again? I already told you she gossips about our family, yet you still did it?"

"Nothing will happen. She won't do anything like that anymore."

"What guarantee is there of that? If I ask her one thing, she'll spread a hundred stories," Behram expressed his displeasure.

"What can we do? It's necessary," Jahan Ara's comment made Behram shake his head.

"Did you take care of Burhan's case..." she began talking about her real concern.

"Whatever had to happen has already happened... What's the point now? The High Court isn't going to reverse its decision."

Behram closed his eyes. This was the third time this month that Jahan Ara had come to Behram, only for the sake of her son Burhan. After she left, Niaz Sikandar would come, and Behram and Niaz would always end up fighting. Who knows what Jahan Ara said to Niaz after leaving Behram. What could Behram do? She was his stepmother, but still his mother.

"Just try," Jahan Ara insisted to get her way.

Behram leaned forward and took her hand.

"Mom... do you think I haven't tried? There have been losses, haven't there? Batool's, Kashmala's, Ayan's... and..."

"And... whose else? It's not their loss... it's only ours, my poor Burhan's. Please, get him out of jail."

"Mom, please... don't insist. He's fine there. Besides, I've applied for special protocol, so he won't face any harsh treatment there."

Seeing no hope, Jahan Ara stood up and began to leave. After she left, Behram got up and took a deep breath.

There were more issues to deal with.

He stepped outside. As he was heading towards the kitchen, Niaz Sikandar called out to him.

"Yes?" Behram sat down on the sofa.

"Good, I needed to talk to you."

"Yes..."

"Did you pay the man you hired to kill Kashmala?"

"Yes, I paid him the very next day," Behram said, thinking for a moment.

"Good."

"Why are you asking?"

"And where is that file?" Niaz asked, taking a cigarette from the case and lighting it.

"Did Furqan tell you? Or should I say, you made him spill the beans," Behram's tone was sharp.

"Keep your voice down," Niaz warned, pointing a finger at him. "Do whatever you want, but I need that file at any cost. If we are safe and in this position, it's only because no one knows what's in that file or what we do." Niaz continued nonchalantly, crossing one leg over the other.

"I know that very well."

"And I know that you will handle everything."

"I can't do this every time... The file hasn't been found yet. We only have a few leads. Furqan called. I'll take care of the rest myself."

"Good... And what about Burhan's case? Your mother was asking me. And there was something else I needed to discuss with you." Niaz picked up the newspaper from the table and began looking at the headlines.

"Yes... go ahead, I'm listening."

"Are you resentful of your mother?"

Behram got up and sat down at Niaz Sikandar's feet, taking the newspaper from his hands and placing it back on the table. He held his father's hands.

"What do you think?" He looked at his father with hope.

"Then kill Kashmala," Niaz commanded as if issuing a decree. Behram couldn't believe his ears. "Zakariya has no objections. He has severed all ties with Kashmala."

"Dad... me?"

"Yes, you. Why? Can't you do it?" Niaz said in a flat tone, pushing Behram away.

"She's Taimoor's friend's wife, Dad," Behram said with a tone of regret.

"So what? And who will tell Taimoor that you killed Kashmala?"

Just then, Kauser came in with a glass of milk. She placed it on the table. Niaz motioned her to leave with a wave of his hand.

"And?" Behram looked at him in astonishment.

"And your mom wants to arrange your marriage," Niaz added.

Behram was taken aback. It felt as though someone wanted to take control of his life.

"Sir, your phone. Someone is calling," the household servant, Waseem, brought him the phone. It was a call from Khawar.

"At this hour?" he muttered.

"Hello," Behram put the phone to his ear.

"Sarah is in the hospital, please come," Khawar's voice on the other end shook his world.

"What? What happened to her? I'm on my way," Behram rushed out.

"What happened?" Niaz Sikandar kept asking, but Behram left without answering.

Driving at high speed, he reached the hospital. Khawar and his mother were sitting on a bench outside the labor room.

"What happened?" Behram ran up to Khawar.

"Sarah had a miscarriage, Behram..."

Behram was pained. She was his real sister, the dearest to him.

"And Arham? Where is he?"

"He's at home."

"How did all this happen?" Behram looked more exhausted than before.

Khawar glanced at his mother at Behram's question.

"She fell... her foot got caught on the couch," Khawar explained briefly, then fell silent.

A little later, Dr. Saleha came out.

"She is fine. Come with me, I need to talk to you," she said, taking Khawar with her.

"Can I see her?" Behram asked the doctor.

"No, not yet. You can see her in a little while; she is still unconscious."

"But she's my sister," Behram felt troubled.

"I understand. Just wait a bit longer," Dr. Saleha said before leaving.

Behram sat on the bench, his head in his hands.

["Brothers treat their sisters like princesses, and Sarah is a princess too," Iffat's voice echoed, taking him back in time.

"Am I a princess?" Sarah had asked innocently.

"Yes. Every girl is a princess," Iffat had kissed Sarah on the forehead.

"Princesses are delicate," Behram had also bent down to kiss her, then played with her.

"Take care of Sarah," Iffat's voice echoed.]

The scene blurred, bringing him back to the present. He lifted his head and looked around.

It had been quite a while since he had been sitting there. The doctors were shifting Sarah to another room.

Behram entered the room. He saw Sarah, whose complexion had turned pale. Coming closer, he gently brushed her hair away from her forehead. There was a long needle inserted into Sarah's hand, with an IV drip attached.

He took a deep breath. He didn't want to cry, didn't want to show any weakness at any cost.

"What happened?" he asked, lovingly stroking her hair.

Sarah looked at him with teary eyes, thinking about many things. She gathered courage to speak, but the words betrayed her.

"There was a bed, and I fell," she said.

"I see," Bahram was enveloped in suspicion. "It must be God's will," he consoled his sister.

"I wish I could turn back time... if only we had control over circumstances! I wish," Sarah turned her face to the left, crying.

"Why does man cause pain? Why does man consume another? Why can't he ever understand? Why does he give someone else's share of pain to another?" Sarah's choked voice reminded Behram even more of their mother. He was surprised; why was Sarah saying all this?

Dr. Saleha came in. Sarah wiped her tears away.

"Have patience. Otherwise, you will make your condition worse. Hope for the best from Allah, okay?" Saleha consoled Sarah.

Then he picked up the file and glanced at it.

"Did you talk to Dr. Samaira?" he asked Sarah.

"Yes. I came for a check-up once."

Saleha looked at Behram, a bit puzzled, then looked at the file.

"Are you her brother?"

"Yes," Behram nodded.

"Please step outside; I need to talk to her about something personal."

Behram went outside.

"Yes, what is it? Tell me openly," Saleha pulled up a chair and sat close to her. Sarah, lying down, was continuously staring at the ceiling.

"There is nothing to talk about," Sarah's voice trembled.

"You know it's a police case."

"Can you call Samaira?" Sarah looked at Saleha.

"Samaira is not here."

"Please call her and ask her to come," Sarah started crying.

"Okay, okay. I'll call her. But it might take her some time to get here, maybe until tomorrow?"

"I... I'll wait... for her."

"Okay," Saleha dialed her mobile phone and called Samaira in front of Sarah.

"Assalamu Alaikum, Samaira."

Sarah glanced at the clock on the wall; it was ten at night.

"There is patient, wants to meet you. You've met before... Mrs. Khawar Usman."

"Until what time?" Samaira might have agreed, and she was on her way.

"Five in the morning."

"Okay, Allah Hafiz," Saleha hung up the phone back on the table.

"Samaira is coming," Saleha held Sarah's hand with a smile. But Sarah didn't smile back. She kept staring at the clock on the wall.

"Is Khawar outside?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, I've given her a class," Saleha moved her chair closer to her in a serious manner. The distance decreased.

"Please send her in," Sarah insisted.

"What? You know all this..." Saleha tried to move the chair closer to her. The distance decreased.

"Please send her in or leave me alone," Sarah insisted.

"Okay."

Saleha went outside. Behram was still sitting there.

"Where is Khawar?"

"He's gone. My nephew, Arham, he's young, was alone at home, so Khawar went home."

"Oh, I see," Saleha fell silent.

"Has Sarah called her? Does she need anything? Should I go?" Saleha looked at Behram with concern, noticing his red eyes due to sleep, perhaps from tears.

"No. She just wants to be alone for a while," Saleha replied.

☆☆☆☆☆

Sarah lay in the hospital room, continuously staring at the clock; it was only two o'clock. Three hours remained until five.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. The sound of the clock filled the room. Absolute silence. The clock's ticking stopped. Two o'clock turned to 2:35:40...

"Oh no." Sarah's heart began to race. If only she could make time go faster. Samaira couldn't come soon enough!

Behram was still outside. Faint sounds were coming from outside.

Sarah waited for a long time. In that waiting, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

05:15 a.m.

Samaira entered the hospital. She was wearing an abaya, and her face was covered with a veil.

"Where is Mrs. Khawar Usman's room?" she asked the receptionist.

Another nurse showed her to Sarah's room and then left.

Samaira didn't see Behram sitting outside; he had fallen asleep. Samaira entered the room. Sarah was sleeping.

She checked the time and glanced at the reports.

"Miscarriage." Samaira closed her eyes with sorrow. She closed the file, placed it on the table, and walked over to the sofa near the window. She took off her cloak, fixed her hair into a bun, put it in her bag, and wore her headscarf.

The door opened. Saleha entered.

"What's her condition?" Samaira asked as she reached out and looked at Sarah.

"It's a police case," Saleha replied, with pity, looking at Sarah, who was sleeping, seemingly detached from the world.

"Did you call the police?" 

"No. Her brother is an ASP. She didn't tell him anything. Sarah refused to talk about it herself."

Samaira sighed deeply as she put on her abaya and placed her bag inside. 

"I'll talk to her. Maybe there's something important she needs to share."

Saleha sat down beside her.

"Did anyone come from home?" 

"Yes. Her husband and mother-in-law came, then left. Her brother is sitting outside."

"Okay. I didn't see him," Samaira said as she began to drink some water. Saleha got up and left.

Samaira glanced at Sarah. Her yellowish face, dark circles under her eyes. She seemed weaker than before.

Samaira sat beside her, placing her hand on hers. Her sleeve rolled up, revealing a blue mark. A clear bruise was visible on her forearm. There was a cut on her arm. Samaira felt pity for Sarah and covered her with the blanket again.

The door opened once more.

"Who?" A masculine voice came from behind, reaching Samaira. He was asking Samaira.

"Dr. Samaira," Samaira stood up, lifted her veil from the table and covered her face with it, then turned towards him.

"Ah... um..." He tried to remember the name.

"Behram Sikander," he said himself.

"You're here?" She was surprised.

"Did she come all the way from Mianwali to Islamabad for my sister? Was it Samaira?" He started to think.

"Please go outside," Samaira showed him the way out.

"Excuse me, this is my sister, Sarah."

"Really?" Samaira was lost in thought. The person in front of her was an ASP. Samaira blinked.

"How is she now?" Behram came and stood beside Sarah, who was asleep.

"She's fine. I'll check her again when she wakes up," Samaira said and went to stand near the sofa.

Behram sat silently on the chair. He was waiting for Sarah to wake up. Meanwhile, he was also busy with his phone. Samaira was holding a pamphlet in her hand.

"Thank you so much." Samaira looked up, Behram was addressing her.

"For what?"

"You came all this way for my sister. For Sarah."

"All this way? Who told you I came 'all this way'?"

"Dr. Saleha."

"Oh, okay. I'm sincere to my profession. Don't mention it. Thank God, your sister is alive."

Behram was puzzled. He couldn't understand. He squinted at Samaira.

"May I ask you something?" Behram stood up and sat on the sofa, a little distance away from Samaira.

"Yes?"

"Do you forget my name... or do you not want to remember?"

Samaira bit her lip. She hadn't expected Behram to notice so much.

"We've only met once or twice, maybe that's why... I don't remember."

"I do remember, your name... Samaira."

"Yes." She didn't want to talk to Behram, especially when there was no one around.

"Do you also talk less in your daily life?"

"No. I mean, we only talk about work. What else is there to say?"

"There's a lot to say."

"Really? I don't have much."

"You should speak up. I like hearing from you."

Samaira thought to herself, "I don't know where Saleha went, leaving me alone with this tragedy." She pondered silently, "Is he flirting on me? Oh no... What a mess. Should I slap him? No, definitely not. What should I do?"

"I'm coming right now." Samaira got up and walked out.

Sarah wake up and looked around. Behram was lying on the sofa. Seeing Behram reminded her of Mom.

Today, like always, it was only Behram with her, even when she needed others as well. She always found Behram standing by her.

He had been with her since last night.

“Behram!” She called out to him. He was probably sleeping. She called out again.

Behram got up and came to her.

“Are you tired?” Sarah looked into Behram’s eyes, which still had traces of sleep.

“No. Tell me, are you in any pain?” Behram leaned over her, holding her hand.

“Samaira… She said she would come. Didn’t she come?” Sarah looked around the room and noticed a bag.

“She’s here. I’ll go get her.”

Behram entered the room with Samaira.

“Samaira…” The moment Sarah saw Samaira, she started crying. Samaira sat down on the stretcher with her. Sarah instinctively hugged her and began to cry.

"What happened?" Behram stepped forward. Sarah was crying with her head on Samaira's shoulder.

"Please you go outside," Samaira told Behram.

"But..."

"Please..."

Bahram went out. Only he knew the pain he felt as he left.

Samaira let her cry. Sarah cried her heart out.

"Samaira... Khawar had... hit me. He pushed me," Sarah recalled the incident.

Samaira had nothing to say or do.

"You can seek help. Your brother is in the police," Samaira suggested a simple and easy solution.

"I tried to tell, every time... every time Arham is there in front of me. And now my child will come back? Will my wounds heal? How can I..." Sarah couldn’t complete her sentence.

"Have you ever tried to tell? Did you try?"

"Yes. I told Mom, and she said... I have to handle all this myself. She saw me as a burden."

"A mother? How can a mother do that?"

"She is my stepmother."

"Oh... sorry." Samaira felt embarrassed.

"Even if I wanted to, I can't do anything. I wish I were dead."

"Don't wish for death."

"No one ever told me what to do. What should I do? I have no one to discuss this with. Khawar has taken away all my relationships. Only one brother is left, and I can't burden him with my troubles."

"You should get a divorce."

"And Arham?"

"Take custody of Arham. Simple."

"Is it that simple?" Sarah saw all her hopes fading. "Khawar will never leave me. He will never agree to a divorce."

Khawar entered the room. He had heard the last sentence. He looked at Sarah with a piercing gaze and then suddenly changed his facial expression.

"How are you?" Khawar touched her cheek and smiled gently.

"Fine," she felt a pang in her heart.

Samaira got up and left the room.

"What was that girl talking to you about?" As soon as Samaira left, Khawar asked Sarah harshly.

"N-nothing, Khawar," she replied fearfully.

"Talking about divorce?" Sarah's heart sank at Khawar's words. So, he had heard.

"No, she was talking about her friend," Sarah quickly said.

"Why would her friend discuss it with you, huh? I heard the word 'divorce' from your mouth," Khawar got angry. "When are you getting discharged?"

"I don't know," Sarah answered with her head down.

"The sooner you get better, the better it will be," he said as he walked out. Sarah looked towards the window with empty eyes. The vast blue sky was visible. Was there life left?

☆☆☆☆☆

Samaira was sitting outside the room with Behram. There was an appropriate distance between them. People were coming and going. Voices were heard. A nurse entered the room to check on Sarah.

Behram turned his neck to look at Samaira sitting to his left. She was texting someone on her mobile. Behram cleared his throat.

"What are your engagements?" he asked Samaira.

Samaira looked up and around.

(Maybe he is asking me) she thought. "Well, I... I work at the hospital. Government City Hospital Mianwali." She gave a faint smile from behind her veil.

"Anything else?"

"Nothing else, sir."

"Sir? You can call me Behram. By my name."

Samaira, a bit confused, continued looking at her mobile screen, which was off.

"Can I ask you something?" she said to Behram, still looking at the screen.

"Yes, of course." Behram turned his attention to her.

"Did you... did you send me the flowers and that letter?"

He laughed. Samaira was surprised.

"Do I seem like that to you? Is that what you think about me?"

"No, I just wanted to confirm... if by any chance you had..."

"Why would you think I would send you flowers and a letter?"

Samaira regretted her words. She should have thought carefully before asking Behram such a big question.

"Answer me," Behram asked again. "I am not a vagrant. I am a policeman, straightforward and innocent. You keep getting love letters? Hmm, interesting."

"It's not like that." She didn't want to tarnish her character in front of a stranger

"Then? If I had to do that, I wouldn't wait to meet you. This is our third meeting, right? If I wanted, I could have given you flowers directly. I wouldn't send love letters to your house."

"Sorry. Sir, if it offended you." Samaira felt that he might be offended. He could have been offended.

"Not sir..."

"Bahram... And thanks again for coming here for my sister."

"It's okay..."

"Ma'am... the patient is calling you." The nurse stood at the door, calling Samaira inside. Samaira got up and went in. Behram also entered with her.

"Comb her hair," the nurse handed the comb to Samaira.

"Me?"

"Yes." The nurse smiled and walked out.

Samaira sat on the stretcher next to Sarah and began combing her hair.

Strands of hair broke and started falling into her lap. Behram was watching Sarah.

Sarah placed her hand on Samaera's hand. Samaira paused.

"If you comb my hair this gently, it will be evening by the time you're done. I haven't even untangled my hair this softly," Sarah smiled softly.

"Really?" Samaira resumed combing.

Behram stood there, talking to Sarah.

"How is Arham? Didn't he come?"

"No. He's at home. Khawar said there are germs in the hospital, he might get sick."

"Hmm. That's true. Khawar did the right thing."

"Do you need anything?"

"No. When will I be discharged?"

"As soon as you get better."

Khawar entered and sat on the sofa. He looked at Samaira, who was untangling Sarah's hair. Strands of hair were falling. Samaira felt a sense of fear from Khawar.

"Should I make a ponytail? Or leave it open?" Samaira asked Sarah.

"It's up to you."

Samaira started braiding her hair. After that, she stood up. Khawar's eyes were still fixed on her.

She walked out.

She approached Saleha.

"Listen, Saleha! I'm leaving."

"Why are you leaving? Sarah needs you. Stay until she's discharged. She will ask for you," Saleha said.

"Please, you take care of her," Samaira said, turning towards the wall to put on her abaya.

"Are you crying?"

"N-no. Why would I cry?"

"Look at me."

"Okay, I'm leaving. Take care of Sarah." With her head down, she picked up her bag and left the room. Saleha kept watching her go.

"What happened to her? Did Behram say something to her...?"

Saleha went to Sarah and checked her vitals; everything was normal.

"Then why was Samaira crying?" she wondered.

"Is everything okay? Where is Samaira?" Sarah asked the doctor.

"She left. She was... crying, I think," Saleha replied, stunned.

"Crying? But why?" Sarah held Behram's hand.

"I don't know. I asked her, but she didn't say anything. Just left. I thought she might have talked to you guys..."

"No. She was fine just now. She was talking with me." Sarah was confused.

"I'll call her," Saleha smiled.

"From the inside, fragile, broken, and sensitive people are easily controlled. It won't take long. One of my shoulders is enough to support and hold her." Behram stood there, lost in thought.

"Samaira Sikandar!"

How easy it was to die in your separation, beloved

Yet it took a lifetime to die while leaving

I, Junaid Khan, do solemnly swear that I am a Muslim and believe in the Unity and Oneness of Almighty Allah, the Books of Allah, the Holy Quran being the last of them, the Prophethood of Muhammad (peace be upon him) as the last of the Prophets and that there can be no Prophet after him, the Day of Judgment, and all the requirements and teachings of the Holy Quran and Sunnah.

I take this oath that I will remain loyal to my homeland, Pakistan. I will always prioritize my country above all. I will neither betray this country nor allow anyone else to do so.

I take this oath that I will protect my country's secrets and will not divulge them to the enemy at any cost, even if I have to sacrifice my life.

I take this oath that I will safeguard and protect this country more than my own life. Protecting this country will be my duty until my last breath. I will fulfill my duty and repay the debt to my country.

I take this oath that no citizen of this country will ever suffer because of me. It will be my duty to protect their lives, property, and honor.

I take this oath that I will protect the wealth of this country. I will benefit my country.

May Allah Almighty help and guide me (A'meen).

Aneesa, holding popcorn, was watching Junaid's pass-out ceremony. She kept glancing at her mobile phone repeatedly. Sania had said she would call; it was the result day. As she looked at Junaid on the screen, a smile spread across her face.

Her mobile beeped.

"Congratulations"

She received a message from Omar, followed by his call. Aneesa did not attend the call and focused on the screen. The phone kept ringing. Sania's name lit up on the mobile screen.

Aneesa quickly picked up the call.

"Hello..."

"Liar, deceitful, you said you weren't prepared, but you have the highest marks." Sania snapped at her. "You weren't even prepared. Surely your father must have used his influence for you."

Sania did not give Aneesa a chance to speak. Meanwhile, Omar's call was also coming through.

"Don't call me again after today. Our friendship is over."

"Hello... hello..." Aneesa stared at the empty phone.

"Influence... my father doesn't even speak to me. If only you knew."

Aneesa looked at the pile of books on the table. Pages were scattered, and the table was in a mess with papers everywhere.

The ceremony on the laptop had ended. She saw Khizar clapping. She closed the laptop and went to the kitchen. She took out some water and drank it.

"Did you get your result?" Naheed asked when she saw her.

"Yes. But I don't know it." She closed the water bottle and put it back in the fridge.

"I've told you many times to keep the bottle filled; you've left it half empty." Naheed scolded her.

"Aneesa." Sahira called out to her. "Omar is calling. Talk to him. He's congratulating you."

"Convey my thanks to him." She replied while standing in the kitchen.

Sahira handed her the phone.

"Hello..."

"Aneesa, I am very..."

"Hello... hello..." Omar was about to speak, but Aneesa didn't give him a chance. "I can't hear you."

"Aneesa, I can hear you."

"Hello." Aneesa took the phone away from her ear and hung up.

"Here you go, Bhabhi. We talked a bit, but I couldn't hear him well, maybe there was no signal."

"Strange. There were signals just now." Sahira took the phone and sat outside with her daughter.

"Mom, where is Shahroz?" Aneesa asked Naheed, who was sitting with Sahira.

"Shahroz is in the room inside." Sahira replied.

Aneesa went to the room. Shahroz was taking an online class with his students.

"Brother..."

"What is it?"

"Can you take me to Sania's house?"

"Why?" He seemed busy.

"I have some work with her. I left my notes at her place." Aneesa sat in front of him.

"Now you remember your notes after two months? Where were you before?"

"Brother... please agree." She pleaded.

"Alright, I'm busy. I'll ask Shahzeb to come and take you."

"Never mind. Thanks." She left, annoyed.

"Aneesa... Aneesa..." Shahroz called after her.

She went to her room and started organizing the table. She arranged the books and began throwing away the waste papers into the bin.

"You look really awful when you cry." Shahroz entered the room.

She continued cleaning, ignoring his presence as if she hadn't heard him.

"I'll take you. Okay?"

"Really? But you were busy." Aneesa left the books where they were.

"Let's go now." Shahroz stood aside, letting her pass, and took her to Sania's house.

"Don't take too long. You only have ten minutes. Otherwise, I'll leave, and then Shahzeb will have to come to pick you up."

"No, I'll be quick."

Aneesa entered the house. Mam Zoha was standing in front of her.

"Assalamu Alaikum, ma'am. How are you?"

"Walaikum Assalam. Congratulations, dear, for the result."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Come in, come in." Mam Zoha led her into the room where Sania was sitting. Sania seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Assalamu Alaikum, Sania," Aneesa greeted her with a smile.

"You? Here?" Sania was surprised.

"Are you upset?"

Sania laughed.

"No, dear... I was just joking."

"You were angry," Aneesa corrected her.

"No, no. Forget it. Come, sit down. How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"You turned out to be quite the dark girl. You left everyone behind. What about your senior friend? Where is she? Do you still talk to her?" She picked up her remote and turned on the TV.

"Yes, sometimes."

Mam Zoha came in with a glass of juice and placed it in front of Aneesa.

"No, I don't drink it. My brother is waiting outside," Aneesa smiled. Three of Sania's cousins also came in.

"Give it to me." Sania picked up the glass and drank all the juice. Mam Zoha looked at her angrily and slapped her.

"Sania, is this girl your friend?" one of her cousins addressed Sania.

"Yes. See for yourself, it's her." Sania pointed carelessly at Aneesa, while she herself was engrossed in watching a serial.

The three cousins faced Aneesa, occasionally whispering to each other.

"I should go now. I'll come again." Aneesa stood up.

"Yes, do come again." Sania stood up and escorted her to the door.

"I'm not angry at you." Sania reassured her once more. She smiled and walked away.

Shahroz was waiting on the bike.

"Did you meet her? You still had two minutes left." Shahroz joked.

Aneesa couldn't even muster a smile.

They both reached home.

Aneesa went to her room and closed the door.

"Stealing is so difficult; I wonder how thieves manage to rob in broad daylight," she thought. She opened her purse and took out Sania's mobile.

The phone had no security lock. First, she opened the gallery. Her hands and heart were trembling.

"Wow, it has pictures of every girl in the class! Unbelievable."

Selected

Select all

Permanently delete 1005 items?

"With pleasure," Aneesa bit her lip and smiled happily.

She clicked, and all the videos and photos started to delete.

A call came on Sania's phone. She got scared.

Tanveer.

"Why is Tanveer calling her? What does he want? Should I answer or not?" She pondered.

She answered the call.

"Hello, Sania..."

Aneesa closed her eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Send me the pictures you sent to Shahzeb."

Aneesa's eyes flew open. Her first thought was of Junaid and Shahroz. Her friend was tarnishing her reputation.

"Okay," she said and ended the call.

She opened the whatsapp.

She had all the boys' numbers.

"What? To Shahzeb... What does the law say? I need to deal with Shahzeb."

Aneesa opened the chat and started reading. She grimaced at every message.

Samaira came in and knocked on the door.

"Aneesa, open the door."

"You’re back already. So soon?"

"Hmm. I'm very tired. Bring me some water." Samaira stretched her neck.

Aneesa brought her some water.

"Samaira, I was thinking we should go to Shahzeb's house tonight to congratulate him. He got his result."

"You got your result too, but they're not coming over." Samaira looked at her while drinking water.

"Samaira... if I tell you something, will you promise not to get angry?"

"What is it?" Samaira handed her the glass.

"It's not my fault, I swear."

"Tell me what happened. I won’t get angry, I promise."

"Shahroz has my pictures," Aneesa said, looking at Samaira, who raised her eyes to look at her. "I didn't send them. Sania did."

Samaira went to the bathroom to wash her face.

"Samaira... you are listening, right? I'll fix everything. Please, take me to his house tonight. Please do something. Everything will be fine."

Aneesa started knocking on the bathroom door.

Samaira came out after washing her face.

"Be ready at eight tonight." Samaira said while wiping her face with her dupatta.

"Are you sure you'll convince Dad?"

"Yes." Samaira sat on the bed, took out a note from her purse, then put it back."Did you tell Dad about the result?"

"No, but Omar must have told him."

"Omar? Does he know?"

"Yes, he knows everything. He's the gossipy aunt."

Samaira burst out laughing at Aneesa's words.

"At least you found out. By the way... it's not that bad."

"Really?" Aneesa turned to her and opened her laptop.

"Yes, and don't fight with him unnecessarily. Behave nicely when he comes."

"He won't come back." She rolled up her sleeves and put her dupatta on the bed.

Samaira started giving her advice. Aneesa shut her ears to it.

She scrolled through the laptop screen.

"Malikah, Malikah..." her lips moved.

Congratulations

Aneesa checked the time. Ten forty-five. Then she took out her phone and saw Omar's message. Eleven twenty.

"Did the queen know my roll number?" Aneesa smiled slightly.

"Thanks. How did you find out?" Aneesa typed an email and sent it.

"Are you listening?" Samaira's voice came.

"Yes. What is it, Samaira? I'm doing important work," Aneesa replied impatiently. "Keep me away from all this."

"I'm talking about Tanveer. Did you..."

"Please. Can I be happy for two minutes?"

"Yes, be happy for five minutes." Samaira lightly pulled her hair.

"Mom!" Aneesa shouted.

Samaira smiled.

☆☆☆☆☆

At night, Aneesa, Samaira, Zakariya, and Naheed were at Shahzeb's home. Everyone was sitting outside in the veranda. Aneesa was sitting in Samaira's shadow, hiding from the light of the bulb. She was feeling shy.

Shaheen, Shahzeb's mother, was talking to Naheed. Samaira and Aneesa were sitting with Shahzeb's sister, Maryam. Samaira was responding to Maryam's conversations and would speak up if something came up. Aneesa remained quiet and was smiling shyly.

"Aneesa, sit properly in front," Maryam said to Aneesa.

"She is like this, very shy. If you come to our house, her mischief will never end. She is just shy around you," Samaira responded with a smile.

Shahzeb came out of his room.

"Assalamu Alaikum, Aunty," he greeted Naheed. He looked at Aneesa. "Where did she come from?" he thought to himself.

Aneesa tried to hide behind Samaira.

"Go outside, son, and meet Uncle Zakariya. Your father is also sitting with him," Shaheen sent Shahzeb outside.

"I need to go to the washroom," Aneesa whispered in Samaira's ear.

"Go ahead, it’s your own home," Samaira said casually. Maryam smiled. Aneesa took Samaira's bag and headed towards the washroom.

The lights outside the veranda were on. Everything else was dark. She sneaked into the room from where Shahzeb had just come out.

"Oh no." The room was a mess. Her hands and feet turned cold. With a pounding heart, she quickly started searching for the laptop in Shahzeb's room. Aneesa fumbled around in the dark. She hit her hand on the bedsheet. The laptop was right there.

She quickly put the laptop in Samaira's bag and came out, returning to her place.

Samaira and Maryam were talking.

Shaheen brought juice. She placed the tray in front of Samaira and Aneesa. Samaira picked up the juice. Aneesa, shy as usual, did not take any. Samaira handed her a glass of juice and laughed as she looked at Maryam.

"She will want something, but her shyness will get in the way," Maryam laughed at Samaira's comment.

"When I get married, you must come," Maryam said to Aneesa. Aneesa nodded in agreement.

"It's time for us to leave now," Naheed stood up.

They started to leave.

"Do keep visiting," Maryam hugged Samaira.

"Yes," she smiled.

☆☆☆☆☆

When they reached home, Samaira and Aneesa quickly went into the room.

"Look at this," Aneesa took the laptop out of the bag.

"Open it. Is there any security on the laptop?"

Aneesa quickly opened it.

"Enter the password."

"Damn it. Now what?" Samaira was frustrated.

"There is one way."

"What?"

"I will smash the laptop to pieces." She suddenly became furious.

"What? Are you crazy? Where will you throw it? We agreed to delete the pictures and videos and return it to Shahzeb," Samaira looked at Aneesa in disbelief.

"Fine, then you remove the security. I won’t break the laptop. I will break it in such a way that there won't be a trace left."

"Are you sure?"

Aneesa picked up the laptop. She held the screen and the keyboard with each hand, gripped tightly, took a deep breath, and twisted the screen and keyboard in opposite directions.

With a cracking sound, the laptop broke. She twisted it three or four more times. The wire connections were still intact. With further twisting, everything broke apart. The screen was in one hand, and the keyboard in the other.

"I wish Sania had valued our friendship and protected my honor."

Samaira looked at her. There was regret in Aneesa's eyes.

Aneesa sat on the bed, pulled her feet up, placed the keyboard under her foot, and then pulled it towards herself with her hand. The keyboard split into two pieces as well.

Today, she was breaking everything.

"Enough, the laptop is already ruined. How much more will you destroy?" Samaira took the screen from her hand and threw it aside. Aneesa had a scratch on her hand.

Aneesa lay down on the bed peacefully.

"You know, Samaira, if Dad had found out, he wouldn't have believed me. He would think I sold my honor. Do you remember Mahenoor? What they did to her! Dad didn't listen to her. He believed what he saw. Even though..."

"Stop it. Go to sleep," Samaira lay down in her place.

"Does it hurt you to remember old wounds?"

"If you know, then why remind me?"

"What can I do? I wish our father understood us. What are those girls like whose fathers understand them before they even speak? Who trust their blood blindly. Could I deceive my father? Should I just blame my fate? Don't you feel afraid when you recall the day Dad completely upended Mahenoor's life?"

"I have to go to the hospital for duty in the morning. Please go to sleep."

"Did Mahenoor tell Kabeer what happened to her? What would Kabeer have done?" Aneesa thought about Mahenoor. "Maybe Kabeer believed her? That's why she's still with him."

"What if she didn't tell him?" Samaira said for some reason.

"Yeah, I never thought about that." Now she had a new perspective.

"Samaira, what will my husband be like? Like Dad? He won't listen to me. He'll be angry and turn away from me in anger. Who knows how many past sufferings I'll have to endure," she said, continuously shaking her foot.

"Are you listening?"

"Hmmm," she was crying. Her tears were falling one by one onto the pillow.

"Can't we change our fate? I wish something would happen that we could reverse our destiny! I wish!"

"Pray," Samaira could only say this much.

"How do I know if Allah will give me something good or bad?"

"Faith," a voice came from Samaira's heart.

"Yes, you're right. I will ask with faith, starting anew. Forgetting everything, all the complaints."

Aneesa kept talking. She had a lot to say. Today felt like those nights when she would stay up half the night talking to Samaira, who would quietly listen while lying down.

Tonight was the same. The pillow kept getting wet. The night kept passing.

Behold, we stood firm in this testimony

We who were slain in the dark pathway    

Junaid was leaving the Lahore High Court. He had a file in his hand. Walking quickly, he reached his car and placed the file on the seat next to him. He looked around and then started the car.

A call came. He received the call.

"Walaikum Assalam... I will send you the email... by this afternoon... Yes, alright." He ended the call.

Now he was driving. He stopped the car in front of a coffee shop. Taking the file and laptop in hand, he entered the shop.

"One coffee, please," he ordered the waiter and sat down. He opened the laptop and took out the file.

He entered the password.

Money Laundering Research Operation. The file opened. Words moved up and down.

Money Laundering. Junaid searched. The file opened in front of him.

Edit.

Now, looking at the file, he began to input data.

The waiter placed a mug of coffee in front of him and left. Junaid's fingers continued typing continuously until he had entered all the data.

He felt a headache. He massaged his temples and let his nerves relax for a while. He picked up the mug of coffee and began to drink. After taking four sips, he focused back on the laptop.

Maisoor called.

"Junaid, please send me that file."

"Okay, sir." Junaid pressed the button, and the file started to send.

He was still on the call.

"Got it. Thanks, Junaid," Maisoor said from the other side.

"And any other instructions, sir?"

"No... Do one thing, send me the hard copy of the file as well. I'll send it to Mir Jafar. Give it to him."

"Okay, sir. I'll give it."

"Good. Allah Hafiz."

"Allah Hafiz, sir," Junaid said and put the phone in his pocket.

"Thank God, one problem will be resolved, Insha'Allah." He got up and, taking the laptop and file, walked out of the shop.

Now he drove the car towards home. The car was on the road. The sun was at its peak. He kept driving in the heat.

The traffic police signaled him to stop. One officer read the number.

MJ011

"Get out," the policeman signaled. Junaid did not get out.

"Why did you stop me?" Junaid rolled down the window.

"We have orders. Please step out."

"Why? Other cars are passing by. You didn't stop them," Junaid looked at the road where cars were passing without any checking.

"Look, we have orders. Please step out."

"Show me the orders," Junaid extended his hand, asking for the order papers.

The policeman looked at his colleagues. Two more officers came forward.

"Sir, let us do our job. Cooperate with the law. Hand us the car. We will send you to some local station."

"What?" Junaid took off his sunglasses. "Why my car? I have my license. I'm not driving illegally. The car is registered. You can check the records." Junaid did not step out.

"Sir, we are telling you, we have orders from above," the policeman said, peeking inside.

"Show me the orders and the paperwork. Who initiated this action? I will step out right now," Junaid insisted.

"He won't listen like this. I'll call the higher officer," the policeman said.

"Oh, a threat? Are you threatening me?" Junaid raised an eyebrow. "Do whatever you want," he said, rolling up the window and starting the car. The policeman tried to stop him.

Junaid drove off. Two policemen on motorcycles chased after him and followed him home.

The gate was locked. Mahenoor hadn't returned from college yet. He accelerated and headed towards the college.

"This guy won't listen. I'm calling the chief," said the policeman on the motorcycle.

He made a call.

"Hello, sir... Sir, the car you asked us to stop, we found it... But sir, the guy drove off with the car... Sir, we tried to stop him but..." (He was interrupted from the other side.) "Sir, we are still following him... Okay, sir, as you say." He put the phone back in his pocket.

"Alright, let's head back. The chief said to let him go."

They turned back.

Junaid, unafraid, reached the college. Mahenoor was waiting for him. When he arrived, they both headed home together.

"You're late today," Mahenoor said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, because of the case..."

They entered the house. Junaid parked his car in the garage.

"I haven't done any smuggling or illegal activity, so why was the police stopping me?" Junaid thought, glancing at the car. "Something must have happened."

Mahenoor entered the house, took off her bag, and sat down on the sofa. She brought a glass of water for Junaid.

Junaid also sat with her in the lounge.

"Junaid, did mom call you?" Mahenoor asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Umm, yes," Junaid said with disinterest.

"What did she say?"

"The same thing she told you." Junaid smiled faintly.

"So, what's your response?"

"It's up to dad, right? Sahira Bhabhi didn't get any security? And then Smaira. In all of this, Aneesa turned out to be the smartest. I don't want to marry Mashal." He sat with his head down, holding the glass.

"Forget about Sahira, Samaira, and Aneesa. Talk about yourself. Why don't you want to get married?"

"I didn't say I don't want to get married. I just don't want to marry Mashal. That's it."

"You do want to get married. Hmm," Mahenoor caught the point.

"Will you talk?" Junaid looked up, blushing and smiling. "She's a good girl. Belongs to a good family."

"Who is she? Where is she from?"

"The friend of Aneesa from Mianwali...," he paused.

Mahenoor was surprised.

"Junaid... you..."

"I haven't done anything wrong."

"Sania?"

"God forbid, Api. Not her," Junaid shuddered.

"Junaid..."

"Okay, okay."

"Then who?" Mahenoor tried to remember.

"Madiha. She came to our house once, just once."

Mahenoor started to think.

"Yes, yes... her. She's good, but dad won't agree."

"That's why I'm asking you to talk to him," Junaid said, moving closer and holding Mahneoor's hand.

"And Mashal?"

"I hope Farhana Aunty will refuse. She regrets marrying Sahira into our family, and now Mashal. There's no way. It would be better if she refused herself. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise what?"

"I'll marry Madiha myself."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"Do you think dad will come around if 'I' refuse Mashal?"

"Alright, I'll do something," Mahenoor said, looking at Junaid.

"Shall I make some tea?"

"No, I'll have dinner."

"Okay, I'll set it up."

☆☆☆☆☆

"You all are completely ignorant and useless. When you had him, at least you could have searched the car," Furqan scolded the three police officers.

"Sir, he would have asked for a search warrant. He was already asking for the papers."

"So? You could have said they were at the office and asked him to come along. Showed them to him. You were supposed to take the car into custody. And now you all came back empty-handed. Now go. Get lost.

The three of them left.

Behram was rocking in a chair.

"Sir, here are the rest of the details," Furqan said, placing the laptop in front of him.

"He has the file. His name is Junaid. He's an army officer. He just sent the data to Maisoor via email."

Behram read the details.

"Amazing. He's one of ours. Cover him. I will handle him."

"Sir, you know him?"

"Hmmm."

"So?"

"So what? Someone once said, if the enemy is a friend, it's more fun to play the game. Leave him to me. We have three months' time," Behram smiled.

Furqan sat in the chair on the other side of the table in front of him.

"Did you create the new file?"

"Yes, sir. Here it is," Furqan handed over the file.

"Black Marketing and Money Laundering." One thing came to mind.

"Do you have any other plan... so that if any illegal activity is observed by someone, it still appears legal?"

"Sir... for now, the only way is to use fake documents to carry out this work. Later, if there is any inquiry, we might get away with it due to the papers being fake."

"Might... Furqan... might. I don't want might. Give me confirmation," Behram leaned back in his chair and started massaging his temples.

"Sir, you also have to look into the other case of Sir Ibrahim. Will Fateh accept their version tomorrow?"

"That's their personal matter. Bring me yesterday's record, the area's budget, and the hospital bill."

"Sir, Sir Niaz had requested that file."

"What? Those are the ones I need to sign... I approve their budget too, so why did you give them to him?"

"Sir, he came and took them before you."

"Then there must be some inside issue, some problem," Behram thought.

"Do one thing, get the car out. I'll go to the hospital and check."

"Okay, sir."

Furqan immediately went outside and started the car. Behram buttoned up his coat and walked out, heading towards the hospital.

༒︎༒︎༒︎༒︎༒︎