White Roses Episode 10

 

White Roses as symbol of love 

City of Enchantment 

Now who will unchain my feet and set me free?  

Even the rulers of my town are themselves not free.

The dark clouds hung over Islamabad's sky like a shroud of sorrow. Lights and lanterns were hanging all around the bungalow, but one room remained dark. Behram was lying on the sofa, his arm covering his eyes. Niaz Sikander entered the room after opening the door. Behram did not get up even upon hearing his father's arrival. Niaz turned on the light. The room brightened, and Behram squinted as his eyes adjusted. He sat up, feeling a heaviness in his chest.

"I am proud of you, my son." Niaz came closer and embraced Behram. "I must admit, you truly are my child." Behram stood motionless, leaning against Niaz like a statue. Then, both sat down. Behram rubbed his eyes, fatigued.

"When did you arrive?" Niaz asked, stretching his arm across the sofa.

"I just got here today. I had some business with Taimoor Bhai. I have to leave in the morning." His voice clearly carried exhaustion. "I heard you went to Lahore," Behram said, glancing at Niaz's face.

"Yes, I had some work." Niaz ran his hand over his face.

"Normally, you make me do all your work. What kind of illegal job was it this time that you didn’t tell me about?" Behram’s lips curved into a bitter smile. Niaz laughed.

"Forget it. My work wasn't that important. You tell me—what if the boy says he's not the killer? What will you do? You’ve needlessly put all the blame on him."

"No, Dad. He was the one who fought with Junaid the last time. We just need to direct everyone's attention to that point. Even his foolish sisters are somewhat convinced now. Don’t worry, he can’t do anything. I’ve already had the news published," Behram said, but Niaz still didn’t feel reassured.

"Just make sure my name doesn’t come up. That’s all I care about," he said, patting Behram on the shoulder and sitting closer to him.

"Yes, Dad," Behram responded quietly in a tone of obedience.

"Alright, son. Your mother wants me to talk to you about your marriage. So, as soon as this case is over, you should get married. You’re willing, right?" Niaz asked.

"Hmm, whatever you say," Behram replied, as he took his phone off silent mode and turned it on. His eyes were glued to the screen, and Niaz’s gaze was fixed on Behram’s hands as he typed something.

"Hello. Yeah. Fatah will come in the morning, and you go back home with him, okay? No, I’m in Islamabad. Yes, I’ll meet you there tomorrow for lunch. Fine. When? Okay. Alright," he said, taking the phone away from his ear.

"Who was that?" Niaz asked in a concerned tone.

"It was Malikah. I told her to come back home, but she refused," Behram said hurriedly.

"Why? What did she say?"

"She just makes excuses, nothing more," Behram shook his head. "I’ll go see her myself in the morning," he said, and Niaz’s expression changed slightly, though he tried to hide it.

"What do you have to do with her? Let her be. You shouldn’t get too close to the servants anyway," Niaz said sternly.

"Dad, she’s like my sister, just like Sarah," Behram said, emphasizing the word 'sister,' which seemed to catch Niaz off guard. "How can I not care about her? Malikah takes such good care of me," he added, his tone filled with sweetness.

"Alright, alright. I’ll be going now," Niaz said, standing up. As soon as he left, Behram received a call from Furqan.

"Sir, this boy is really stubborn. He’s still not admitting to the murder," Furqan reported from the jail, where Tanveer was lying tied up. Two police officers were hitting him with sticks on his back. He was in agony, barely conscious. A tub of ice-cold water stood in front of him.

"Break his bones if you have to," Behram said coldly.

"Sir, we’ve tried everything. He keeps repeating the same thing, 'I didn’t commit these murders,'" Furqan replied.

One of the officers dunked Tanveer’s head into the freezing water. He writhed in pain from the cold, his lips cracked on one side. He struggled desperately to catch his breath.

"He will break. Test his patience to the last moment. Torture him enough that he confesses to the crime himself. Whatever you need to do, do it tonight. I need his testimony at all costs." Behram could hear Tanveer's screams in the background.

"Okay, sir." Furqan ended the call.

Behram got up, turned off his phone, and lay down on the bed. He was worried about Malikah. She wasn't talking to him properly anymore, nor did she behave the way she used to.

One of the officers used pliers to pull out a toenail from Tanveer’s foot, and he screamed in agony.

"Aahhh! No, no! I didn’t kill them!" He kept repeating through his sobs.

The officer asked the same question repeatedly, "Tell me, why did you kill that innocent couple?" He continued carrying out his duty as ordered, and the cold night dragged on.

You won't return, you should have told me so,  

You settled far away, and I kept on searching.  

As you entered the restaurant in Lahore, there was a table with six chairs around it. The place was crowded, and the cold air made the winter feel even more intense. Five people were sipping their hot coffees. One chair was still empty. Shahroz sat there, looking sad as he watched his four sisters enjoying their coffee. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck. Kashmala and Mahenoor kept glancing at him and smiling.

“It’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Aneesa said, getting up to grab a tissue before sitting back down. The last time all the siblings had gathered like this was the night of Junaid's wedding. That night was truly memorable. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, and back then, no one knew that it would be the last time they’d spend with Junaid.

"Hmm," Shahroz murmured softly. Even today, Junaid’s chair remained empty. 

“If Junaid were here, he would have ordered mutton chops. He loved eating those,” Aneesa said, smiling at everyone. Samaira, Mahenoor, and Kashmala also remembered and could only smile. They didn’t say much, but the memory hung in the air.

“Do you want to order some?” Shahroz asked kindly.

“No… I was just thinking about Junaid Bhai,” she replied, looking a bit embarrassed.

“If you want to eat, just let me know. Don’t use Junaid as an excuse,” Samaira teased, and Aneesa let out a small laugh.

“No, it’s just... Junaid Bhai came to mind,” she said, feeling the weight of his memory. Shahroz took her hand gently and wrapped his arm around her.

"Now I’m here... just tell me if you need anything," Shahroz said gently. She nodded in response.

"I miss Junaid too, Bhai," Samaira said, her voice filled with sadness. "Junaid Bhai left us so quickly." It felt as though the lights in the restaurant had dimmed at her words.

"You all only lost Junaid Bhai, but I lost two relationships—my brother and my friend," Aneesa said, her eyes moist as she tried to smile but couldn’t. A deep melancholy spread all around, and their hearts felt empty.

"I wish Junaid was alive today," Mahenoor wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"I don’t want anything... I just want justice for Junaid Bhai and Madiha Bhabhi," Aneesa said, looking at Kashmala. She knew Kashmala was capable of getting them justice.

"It’s not going to be easy," Kashmala replied softly.

"But it’s not impossible either," Samaira said, holding her hand. Kashmala smiled.

"We won’t accept blood money," Shahroz said firmly. "We’ll have two conditions. First, life imprisonment with hard labor. And second, the death penalty."

"Second—the noose," Aneesa smiled faintly through her tears.

"Not life imprisonment with hard labor," Samaira said with hatred. "So that Junaid Bhai’s killer suffers every day, dies a little each day, and realizes the pain Junaid Bhai and Madiha Bhabhi endured. He should know what they went through." A heavy silence fell over them. They sat for a long time, reminiscing about Junaid. Aneesa’s eyes kept drifting toward the empty chair beside her. In her mind, she pictured Junaid sitting there, smiling and hugging her with love. Her thoughts were trapped in the hope that Junaid and Madiha’s deaths were just a deception, a false dream, and that Junaid would come back, take her hand, and say, "What’s wrong? Tell me, I’ll fix everything." He would gently wipe away her tears with love.

But her eyes kept searching, and he was nowhere to be found.

For those I bled upon the paths I tread,  

They now tell me, "Your vow, it is dead."

There was a murmur in the courtroom. Tanveer was seated on one side of the benches. Zakariya was sitting with Shahroz. Behram sat on the front bench, nervously tapping his foot. Kashmala was reading, glancing over the pages. Next to her, Barrister Aitaizaz, with a frown on his face, was engrossed in his case. Justice Khaleel Bajwa entered the courtroom. A deep silence fell.

"Let the proceedings begin." The accused was brought to the stand. Two officers stood beside him. Kashmala stepped forward.

"What is your name?" Kashmala stood in front of him.

"Tanveer Niazi." He replied, panting. Fresh wounds were visible on his face.

"Why did you kill Junaid and Madiha?"

"I didn’t," he said in a weary voice.

"Where were you on the night of the murder?" Behram was watching him with amusement.

"I was at home with friends."

"Present your alibi."

"They don't want to testify."

"So that means you're lying," Zakariya looked at Shahroz.

"No."

"Yes." Kashmala's voice rose.

"Objection, Your Honor! She is provoking my client," Aitaizaz stood up.

"Order, order. Kashmala, you may continue," the judge encouraged her. She nodded and turned back to Tanveer.

"If you're telling the truth, then present your alibi. Otherwise, in other words, a death sentence will be issued." Aitaizaz began to stand, but Behram signaled with his eyes for him to sit down.

The judge, seated, was watching Behram. Behram smiled.

"I didn’t commit the murder. I didn’t even have a personal grudge against him." Tanveer began to cry. His father, watching him, felt pity for his son’s condition.

"You were at the club on the night of December 21st, isn’t that correct?"

"Yes."

"And on the morning of December 22nd, you had an argument with Junaid. Tell us what it was about."

"Your Honor, my client is being framed!" Aitaizaz stood up again. The judge interrupted him once more and asked him to sit back down. Elbow resting on the bench, the judge focused on Kashmala. Kashmala repeated her question.

"It was because of Aneesa. Shahzeb had told Aneesa a few things about me, which she then told Junaid. That’s why Junaid attacked me."

"What things?"

A scene began to replay in his mind.

Around five in the morning, Shahzeb's dead body was brought to Mianwali. Tanveer was on a bike with Wasif. They were on their way home when a car suddenly stopped in front of them. The street wasn’t very wide. Junaid stepped out of the car and quickly approached Tanveer. As soon as he reached the bike, he kicked it, causing Tanveer and Wasif to fall to the ground. Shah Mir and Asfand arrived on another bike. 

Junaid grabbed Tanveer by the collar, pulled him up, and started punching him in the face, all while hurling offensive words. Shah Mir and Asfand tried to intervene, but Junaid was beyond control. After leaving Tanveer, Junaid turned to Shah Mir and began hitting him with punches and slaps as well.

"How dare you people say such ridiculous things about my sister? I'll rip your tongues out, every single one of you. I’ll break every hand that rises against my sister. And you..." Junaid turned back to Tanveer. "Consider this engagement over. If you come anywhere near Aneesa again… right now, you're lying on the ground, but next time, I'll bury you in it." 

With a final kick to Tanveer’s side, Junaid turned to leave. At that moment, Wasif and Asfand attacked him from behind. Junaid tripped Asfand by tangling their legs, causing him to fall. He twisted Asfand's arm, and Asfand screamed in pain.

Asfand, struggling to free his arm, taunted, "I won't spare your sister. I’ll ruin her so badly that she won't be able to show her face anywhere."

Junaid pushed him away and warned, "Don’t make this mistake again." He walked back to his car and sat inside, while the four of them writhed in pain on the ground, exhausted from the beating. 

Back in the courtroom, Tanveer averted his eyes, trying to avoid everyone's gaze.

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"Alright. If you have anything to say in your defense, you may speak now," Kashmala said as she stepped forward and stood in front of the judge.

Behram leaned forward on the bench and handed a file to the person next to him. The file made its way to Aitaizaz, who opened it and looked over at Behram. Behram was smiling.

"Your Honor," Kashmala spoke clearly and loudly, "the defendant has no evidence to prove his innocence, nor does he have an alibi. This proves that Tanveer Niazi is indeed the murderer. I request the court to sentence him to death for the double murder. Thank you." Kashmala sat back down.

"Your Honor," Aitaizaz stood up, "I would like the father of the victim to be brought to the witness stand. I have some questions for him."

"Permission granted," Justice Khaleel Bajwa said, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

Zakariya stepped into the witness stand.

"Mr. Zakariya, correct?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to accept blood money?" Aitaizaz asked with a smile.

"No, we don't want blood money." Kashmala immediately stood up.

"Sit down," the judge cast a stern look at Kashmala.

"Yes," Zakaria said calmly. "I want to end this matter peacefully by accepting blood money. I believe that shedding blood for blood only deepens conflicts between families. Killing Tanveer won't bring Junaid back, nor will Tanveer's death make up for Junaid's loss." He spoke steadily.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Behram shook his head in mock sympathy.

"Not just Junaid, what about Madiha? Have you forgotten her?" Shahroz shouted. Aitaizaz turned towards him.

"Take him out," a voice ordered, and two police officers escorted Shahroz out of the courtroom. Kashmala's eyes filled with anger. For the first time, she felt like she was losing control of the case.

"You will witness your defeat today, and I’ll watch your helplessness," Behram thought to himself, his gaze fixed on Kashmala.

"This case will be heard on April 1st," the judge announced. "Until then, this court grants Tanveer Niazi time to present any evidence in his defense. Tanveer Niazi will remain in physical remand until then." The judge stood up and left the courtroom. 

The room began to empty. With a heavy heart, Kashmala gathered her belongings and stepped outside. Behram was standing there. Shahroz had already left long ago. Zakariya was also on his way out.

"Kashmala!" Behram called out to her. She turned, her face looking worn and tired. In that moment, Behram felt a sense of inner peace.

"Yes?" Kashmala took a few steps toward him.

"Can I offer you a friendly piece of advice?" Behram stood there, smiling with his arms crossed.

"We're not friends, Behram." She smiled weakly, exhausted.

"But we could be. Let's forget what happened in the past. Right now, we share the same goal, don't we?" Behram tilted his head slightly.

"Advice? Go ahead," Kashmala said, tired of the conversation.

"Tanveer is going to be punished, no doubt about that. But you should stop being so stubborn about having him hanged. Life imprisonment is also a good outcome. If you don’t want to accept blood money, then don’t, but..."

"Behram..." she interrupted him. "You know we don't want blood money. We just want justice for Junaid and Madiha, that’s all." Kashmala started to walk away, but Behram kept pace with her.

"That’s exactly what I’m saying. Justice will be served, whether through blood money or imprisonment."

"Alright, I’ll think about your advice." She got into her car, started it, and drove away.

Behram, dialing a number on his phone, also left the scene.

When the princes were held in the magician's snare,  

That chapter of the tale is soon passing, rare.

Once again, a flame was lit in that dilapidated building in Lahore. A faint light flickered somewhere inside. In the dark night, a white circle was drawn on the floor, with some letters inscribed within it. Bilqis sat in the room, absorbed in chanting a mantra. Her handmaidens stood guard outside. Two more guards, armed with sticks, stood at the entrance of the building. As soon as Behram arrived, he parked the car under the same old tree, buttoned up his coat, and entered the building, which had no protective walls around it. He climbed the stairs to the floor where Bilqis usually met him.

"Where is Bilqis?" Behram asked one of the two women standing guard.

"Bibiji is in the room, performing a ritual," she replied respectfully with her head bowed.

Behram stood there, waiting for Bilqis. As he waited, he paced back and forth outside the room. Sometimes, he glanced at his car parked in the distance, and other times at the old banyan tree with its hanging roots, presenting a fearsome sight. The fear in his heart had long vanished. He leaned on the railing, hands gripping it as he stood bent over.

After what seemed like an eternity, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Bilqis’ hand. He knew it instinctively, which is why he remained standing firm, unwavering.

"Why have you come?" Bilqis smiled as she looked at him.

"Bilqis," Behram turned toward her, gripping the railing. "You're not doing my work properly," he said, his eyes filled with reproach.

"In such matters, delays are inevitable. What do you want?" She raised her right hand, and with a swift movement, the two handmaidens vanished like the wind. Now, only Behram and Bilqis remained.

"I want my words to be like a decree carved in stone for her. I want it to be impossible for her to even breathe without me. When I say it’s day, she should see morning. When I say night, her day should end. I want total control," he spoke in an almost hypnotic voice.

"So, what does she do now?"

"She comes when I call her. But she doesn't come close, nor does she let me get near her. She's afraid," Behram sighed deeply, revealing his frustration. "When I try to hold her hand, she pulls away."

"That's precisely the issue, Behram. She's afraid. Her fear is her strength, the very thing keeping her away from sin."

"Then take away that fear. Bring her closer to sin, to me," he closed his eyes as he spoke, filled with desire.

"It’s not that simple. Fear itself can be a person’s strength. Fear protects people, especially when it's the fear of God. This fear keeps people from wandering near sin. And those who fear God, He Himself keeps them away from every trial, from every evil. Breaking such a person is no easy task, Behram. You’ve chosen someone who walks with God," Bilqis laughed softly.

"Bilqis, I don't want to get caught up in this love nonsense," Behram said, clenching his fists. "I want my every word to be final for her. I want her to fall so deeply into my control that she understands what captivity feels like, what pain is, what it means to lose everything." His voice hardened with determination. 

Bilqis placed a calming hand on his arm. "Relax, I'll take care of it tonight. Don't worry."

Behram pulled some money out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Is she still wearing the ruby?" Bilqis asked with a confident smile.

"Yes."

"Did you check?"

"Yes, she wears it regularly. I told her not to take it off," Behram replied, his expression serious.

"More than half your work is already being done by that ruby touching her chest. Once her heart melts, the effect will follow," Bilqis reassured him with a promise in her voice.

"Just bind her heart with the talisman, Bilqis. Do something so she endures the pain I want her to," Behram demanded, his voice filled with intensity.

"Of course, it will be done. I'll pull her away from her faith and..." Bilqis leaned closer, placing her index finger near Behram's heart. "Bring her closer to you," she smiled knowingly.

Behram thanked her and began descending the stairs. Bilqis stood watching him. As Behram reached the bottom and looked up, he saw her still there, observing him. He raised his hand in acknowledgment, and then walked away.

My tale of longing was told and retold with tears,  

Those who tested me wept as they put me through fears.

Aneesa was sitting on the third step outside the lounge, resting her cheek on her knee, drawing some random lines on the ground. When Khizar opened the lounge door and stepped outside, he stopped, seeing Aneesa at his feet.

"Huh, you were just about to come under my feet," he joked. She smiled but remained seated as she was. "Your semester break is over, right? Didn’t you go to university?" Khizar sat down on the step below her.

"No. I'm not going," she stubbornly replied, like a child.

"Does Mahnoor know you're skipping and sitting here?"

"No, that's why I'm hiding here." She rested her face in her hands, shaking her knee continuously.

"If she finds you or sees you, she'll scold you a lot," Khizar said, laughing. She remained sad.

"I don’t want to go. It's fine, I'll bear the scolding, but I'm not going back to that university," she pouted.

"Why? What happened? Is there a test?" Khizar asked, looking at her face.

"No. The students there talk about me," her voice trembled.

"What kind of things?"

"They say I'm not a good friend. That I got Malikah in trouble. And now they must know about the club thing too. I can't face them."

"Did you do wrong by telling the teacher about Malikah?"

"No. She was asking for answers to cheat," Aneesa said confidently.

"Did you go to the club by choice?"

"No." She thought for a moment. "Malikah tricked me, saying it was a party."

"Are the university students your judges or your lawyers?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"So why are you afraid to face them? If people keep talking about you your whole life, will you stop living out of fear of them?"

Aneesa buried her face in her knees. Khizar placed his hand on her head, lifting her face up.

"Were those people with you when you were alone in the club? Tell me one person who was. No one was." Aneesa looked into Khizar’s eyes. In an instant, Khizar’s face transformed into Junaid's.

"A person is not meant to follow the will of others, but rather to do what Allah commands. And what does Allah command? To speak the truth, to stand by what is right. Isn’t that so? Then, you haven’t done anything wrong. As for the matter of the killing, a person has the right to defend themselves. What you did at that moment was in self-defense. If it were someone else, they might not have been able to do it; they might have surrendered themselves to Shahzeb. But you showed courage. Learn to face people. Whether you succeed or fail, people will always talk. People will try to bring you down—won’t you get back up? If you don't, you'll be buried into the ground. Is that what you want?" Junaid looked into her face. She shook her head in denial.

"So, will you go to university?" Junaid extended his hand.

"But people will talk. I'm scared."

"People will always talk. Do you want to give them that chance? If you don't face them, they'll say you're a coward." Junaid chuckled slightly, his empty hand in front of her. "Why be afraid of people?"

"No, I'm not a coward," she replied helplessly.

"Then get up. And if anyone asks you anything, just tell them, 'This is my life, I’m not answerable to anyone.'" When Aneesa placed her hand in his, she found Khizar in front of her. As the spell broke, many things became clear. She was walking while holding Khizar's hand.

"By skipping, you’re only harming yourself. Not going to university is harming yourself too," Khizar's voice faded away.

If we cannot reach our destined goals,  

Let us become the path to those roles.

On a dark, gloomy evening, the house was still silent. The lounge was empty. Gul-e-Lala was sitting with Aneesa at the dining table, narrating the events of her day at the university. Saima was setting the table.

"Did someone mention me?" Aneesa asked anxiously.

"Yes, Masooma asked about you. She sent a message asking me to bring you in the morning. He laughed. 'It wasn’t fun without you.'"

"She came?" Aneesa asked suspiciously, and Gul-e-Lala understood.

"Yes, she came. She was asking about you too. She missed you." Gul-e-Lala smiled. "Let it go, she made a mistake." Just then, all the family members began to gather one by one at the dining table. Aneesa went quiet. She probably didn’t want to discuss it anymore.

"Kashmala Baji! I have some good news for you," Gul-e-Lala said as he checked his phone.

"What?" Kashmala pulled out a chair, sat down, and served herself some okra curry.

"Someone has made a page called 'Justice for Junaid and Madiha'." At that very moment, Aneesa choked on her drink and coughed.

"Take it easy." Batool patted her back. Aneesa looked at Gul-e-Lala with eyes that said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Who made it?" Kashmala was completely unaware of this and was surprised. Khizar opened Facebook, and indeed, the page existed. He showed it to Kashmala.

"Khizar, I feel like we’re missing something," Kashmala said, feeling uneasy.

"I didn’t tell you because you don’t use Facebook," Gul-e-Lala gave an explanation to Aneesa in front of everyone. Aneesa felt embarrassed.

"First, you said it was a robbery, and now? Did you recover the items from Tanveer?" Aneesa asked while eating.

"Oh! I completely forgot. All that... where did it go? Junaid and Madiha’s belongings. It should be with Tanveer," Kashmala said, suddenly realizing something, and got up to leave.

After pacing back and forth in the room, she picked up the phone and called Ayan. The call was going through, but no one was picking up.

"Maybe Ayan is busy," she thought, and called again.

"Hello, Kashmala, how are you?" Ayan spoke from the other side. He had just returned from training and was still in his army uniform. His voice sounded tired. Kashmala sat on the bed for support. Outside the window, the sky was dark.

"Should I tell Ayan or not?" she hesitated, feeling confused.

"Kashmala?" He was sitting on the couch, balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear while taking off his shoes.

"How are you, Ayan? I just called to check on you." She spoke with her hand covering her mouth. Aneesa was standing at the door, holding a tray of food in her hands.

"I'm fine. How are the kids?" He placed his shoes on the rack and stretched out on the couch.

"The kids are fine; they miss you a lot." She spoke with difficulty.

"And you?" He rested one hand under his head, staring at the ceiling.

"I miss you too, that's why I called. When are you coming back?"

"I'm not the one far away, you are. When will you come?" 

Kashmala laughed, though her eyes welled up with tears.

"Haaa," Ayan sighed deeply. "May Allah keep you happy and safe. Ameen." He smiled. "Alright, tell me, what are you doing, how was the day?"

"Don't talk nonsense," she snapped.

"Nonsense? These are special to me. Everything about you is special to me—your time, your happiness, your breath—nothing else matters."

"Really? Then why do you say you'll leave me?" she asked, feeling hurt.

"When do I say that? I actually pray to my wife that I become a martyr. That’s a prayer to become immortal, to live forever," he said as if Kashmala was sitting right in front of him. "Anyway, I have a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?" Kashmala became excited.

"Come to the window." Ayan stood up and walked to the window. Kashmala also went to stand by her window.

"Ayan, there are clouds here; the moon hasn’t come out tonight," Kashmala said, looking up at the sky where only a few stars were visible.

"Face the sky, and I’ll perform a magic trick. Close your eyes," he instructed.

Kashmala closed her eyes.

"Don’t say anything," Ayan said with a smile as he looked up at the sky. Kashmala stood silently, her face turned towards the sky. Aneesa, holding the tray of food, watched her.

"Don’t follow Behram's ’s advice. He’s leading you astray with his misguided suggestions. It’s very possible that either Niaz Sikandar or Behram is involved in this murder. Aneesa is being used as a pawn and presented before you," Ayan warned.

Kashmala began to cry silently.

"Do what you feel is right. Don’t tell anyone what Junaid said to you in his last call. He might harm you too. He knew everything. I’ve looked into it, and that night, Tanveer was at his home. You can ask for the belongings back."

"Ayan, you said you’d give me a surprise," she started crying.

"This was the surprise! See, I read your mind." He laughed as he turned around and sat on the bed.

"When you’re not here, it feels like nothing is right."

"You make things so difficult, stop crying now." He was still laughing. As Kashmala wiped her tears and turned around, she saw Aneesa standing at the door.

"Were you listening to our conversation?" Kashmala laughed through her tears.

"No, I was just watching and thinking how brave Kashmala Ayan Ali really is." Aneesa entered the room and placed the tray of food on the bed.

"Who’s that? Is it Samaira?" Ayan asked from the other side.

"No, it's Aneesa," Kashmala responded briefly.

"Let me talk to her." Kashmala handed the phone to Aneesa.

"You eat your food." Aneesa pointed to the tray, while she got engrossed in talking to Ayan.

"Tell me more about Niaz Sikandar," Aneesa asked eagerly.

"Who’s Niaz Sikandar?" Ayan feigned ignorance.

"The same thing you were telling Kashmala. Tell me too!" Aneesa insisted.

"Yes, he's a friend of your father’s. I was just saying we met... it was at a gathering..." Ayan started fabricating a story.

"Okay. Should I tell you a secret?" Aneesa became excited.

"Yes, tell me." Ayan squinted his eyes.

"Why should I? Did you tell me who Niaz Sikandar is?" She responded in a teasing yet sharp tone. Kashmala smiled at her. "Should I give the phone to Rania? She wants to talk to you."

"Alright, give it to her," Ayan smiled. Aneesa placed the phone by Rania's ’s ear.

"Baba! Baba!" Rania exclaimed happily.

"Yes, my darling, my daughter, my life," Ayan called out to her lovingly. Rania kept calling out "Baba! Baba!" in joy. "Oh, my heart, my life. What was my daughter doing?" Kashmala took the phone from Aneesa’s hand.

"Your daughter troubles me a lot," Kashmala said with a smile.

"Really?" Ayan laughed, and they started chatting. Aneesa went to her room and found Ayesha sitting with Samaira, looking at something on the phone.

"What are you two doing?" Aneesa asked, peeking into the phone.

"I'm explaining a chemistry topic to Ayesha," Samaira replied, sounding busy.

"Good, I'm glad I escaped from science," Aneesa said as she lay on her side on the bed, watching them. "Science is useless," she added and then lay down to sleep. "Turn off the light now. Study in the morning. Night is for dreams, and day is for loved ones," she said while stifling a yawn. Ayesha laughed at her words, and Samaira glared at her, making Aneesa hide under the blanket.

I’m stubborn, trying to erase my palm’s lines,  

Though I know they’re not just marks of simple designs.  

The palace's walls and doors were engulfed in darkness from every direction. The long room was illuminated where Fateh sat. He held a book in his hand. Behram had just returned home and stopped upon seeing Fateh in front of him.

"Did you meet Malikah?" Behram asked as he took off his coat and placed it on the sofa, sitting down beside him.

"Yes, she has returned with me," Fateh replied, his eyes fixed on the book.

"Oh, she’s back. She must be in the quarters, right?"

"No, she’s upstairs in the room," Fateh said, gesturing towards the stairs.

"In 'your' room?" Behram asked, surprised.

"No, in the one next to yours. Aunt Hajra is there too," Fateh quickly clarified.

"Does Aunt Sultana know?"

"Yes, I’ve taken her permission," he smiled.

"And why such a favor towards her?" Behram squinted his eyes, looking intently at Fateh.

"She wanted to meet you. Go ahead, maybe she has something important to discuss with you," Fateh said, getting up to leave, but Behram grabbed his hand. They stood face to face, and in Behram's eyes, the question was clear: 'Tell the truth.'

"Some things are better left unknown. Life remains peaceful that way. I want peace in your life," he said as he freed his hand and climbed the stairs to his room. Behram picked up his coat from the sofa and began climbing the stairs.

"Shall I serve dinner, sir?" Iftikhar called out from downstairs. Behram paused in the middle of the staircase, his coat slung over his shoulder.

"I'm not hungry," he replied, entering the room. The room was enveloped in darkness. He switched on the light, tossed the coat onto the bed, and placed his shoes on the rack. A short while later, he emerged, freshened up and dressed in his nightwear. Straightening the bed, he picked up his phone and began typing a message. The sound of typing filled the room: tick, tick, tick, tick.

"Is it a rule in our love that Behram Sikandar will always make the first move?" He pressed the send button. Then he stood up, walked out, and headed towards Malikah's room. He knocked on the door. Malikah opened it.

"How are you?" he asked with a smile, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.

"I'm good." She stepped aside, making way for him. He came in and sat down on a chair. Malikah sat on the edge of the bed.

"Aunty Hajra... is she here?" Behram asked casually, not seeing her in the room.

"She must be in Sultana Begum's room. She needs my mom to do some work." She spoke seriously. Behram noticed a softness in her voice. He sat with his fist resting against his mouth.

"So, tell me... what's going on?" His gaze remained fixed on Malikah.

"Nothing much. Just... university and home." She sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes lowered. "How about you? How has the promotion been for you?" She smiled slightly.

"Promotion!" He chuckled softly. "Even without the promotion, I was doing the same work I am now. I never needed a weak crutch, Malikah."

Malikah smiled at his confidence.

"When are you getting married, Behram?" Malikah changed the topic.

"Have you already found a girl for me?" He laughed in a teasing manner.

"No. You've already taken care of that yourself." She spoke in an exasperated tone. Behram couldn't help but laugh.

"So, you're getting impatient?" He raised an eyebrow. "I won't keep you waiting long." He stood up. Malikah watched him.

"Do you love her?" Malikah stood up and approached him.

"No. I don't have any such plans right now." He shrugged. Malikah tilted her head up, looking into his eyes.

"You do love her. It's written in your eyes." Malikah was smiling.

"No." Behram extended his hand.

"It's clearly written in your eyes. Congratulations, Behram. You're in love." She exclaimed with joy, but her voice was swallowed somewhere inside. Behram covered his eyes and laughed.

"What else do my eyes say?" Behram leaned in a little and brought his face close to Malikah's. So close that Malikah could clearly see his eyes just inches away. "Do you also read palm lines?" Behram spread both of his palms in front of her. Malikah laughed and sat back down. Behram remained standing.

"Tell me, what’s going on with you?" he asked softly, sitting down a little distance away from her.

"What’s going on, Behram? What could possibly be wrong with me? I'm fine." She laughed involuntarily. Behram looked into her eyes.

"Now you're lying, Malikah. It’s written in your eyes too." Malikah closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Eyes can lie, Behram." Her mood suddenly shifted, and she became serious.

"You cheated, I didn’t say anything. You went to live in the hostel, I didn’t object. You came back to live with us, and I didn’t ask any questions. So now you can tell me. Whatever it is, I won't be angry, Malikah. Who knows, maybe we can solve your problem together."

"Angry? You’d be angry with me? Why would I care about your anger?" she replied in a bitter tone. "Maybe what I'm getting is what I truly deserve."

"Malikah, what kind of talk is this? And what right are you talking about? You know I don’t tolerate this tone. Behram Sikandar does not tolerate such bitterness," he said firmly, trying to make her understand. Malikah fell silent. Just then, Hajra came in. Seeing Behram, she smiled.

"Assalamualaikum, Behram son," she said simply. Malikah shook her head slightly.

"Wa Alaikum Assalam, Aunty," Behram smiled hurriedly, and then silence filled the room.

"If it's something important, I can leave," Hajra said to Behram.

"No, Mom, Behram already knows everything," Malikah said flatly.

Behram stood up and looked at Malikah, who had stood up and was now purposelessly adjusting the cushions on the sofa by the window. With a heavy breath, she turned around, and Behram was standing right in front of her. Tears filled her eyes. She was crying. She was crying in secret. Avoiding him, she moved past Behram, lay down on the bed, and covered herself with the sheet.

"Mom, please close the door and turn off the light." She turned off her bedside lamp and pretended to sleep. Behram shook his head in disapproval and left the room. Hajra closed the door. Malikah sat up, covered her face with her hands, and began to cry. Hajra's eyes welled up as well.

"If only fate could change for once. Change my destiny," Malikah looked up and said. "Change everything. All of it."

Hajra turned off the light, lay down beside her, and pulled the sheet over herself. The room was enveloped in darkness.

"Now you cried? Just tell Behram," Hajra said, full of regret.

Malikah kept crying, hiding her face in the darkness. She was sobbing, but there was no one else with her. Only one being was with her.

He is but a fragrance that scatters in the air,  

The issue is with the flower—where will it fare?

After the dark night, the morning was pleasant. After breakfast, everyone got busy with their own tasks. Aneesa, Gul-e-Lala, and Ayesha had left for university, while Samaira had just left for the hospital. Passing through the crowd of patients at the hospital, she entered her room. She hadn’t even removed her abaya when Dr. Yasmin walked in.

"Samaira... from today, you will assist the seniors." It was more of a command than a suggestion.

"Why? I’m a senior too," she said, surprised.

"No, you’re not. You’re still new, still a fresher."

"No, I don’t think I’m a fresher. My patients seem satisfied with me," she replied gently.

"Maybe you didn’t hear me properly. This is the hospital, and we are the seniors here. Just do what you're told. Stop arguing. Now leave." Yasmin's words were harsh as she gestured for her to leave the room.

"This is my room. On what authority are you asking me to leave?" Samaira said, walking around the desk to confront her.

"You can ask the CEO about the authority I’m exercising," Yasmin yelled.

"Why are you shouting? Can’t you speak calmly?" Samaira gave her a piercing look.

"Ma’am, someone is here to see you," a nurse entered the room.

"Send them in," Samaira instructed the nurse as she sat down in the head chair. Dr. Yasmin glared at her with piercing eyes. The door opened, and a woman walked in, a purse slung over her shoulder. Samaira's tension eased, and she smiled. Yasmin left the room.

"Kashmala? Is everything alright? Is this for Mahnoor’s check-up?" Samaira asked with a smile, gesturing for her to sit.

"No, I came alone. I thought I’d have a chat. You're always busy, and it’s rare to find time at night." Kashmala took her phone out of her purse and placed it on the table in front of her.

"What’s the matter?"

"You know Behram. I’m aware of it." Samaira was about to speak when Kashmala hurriedly continued, "I need to know how long you’ve been meeting with him." Kashmala spoke seriously. Samaira bit her lip.

"Surely, Aneesa must have told you," she thought.

"Aneesa didn’t tell me." It was as if Kashmala had read her mind.

"Kashmala... I...," Samaira closed her eyes. "He’s a good guy, Kashmala. He’s never treated me badly. He likes me, and..."

"And?"

"I like him too," she said in a low voice.

"How long have you been meeting him?" Kashmala picked up her phone and turned it on.

"We met at the hospital. Since then," Samaira said, shivering. "But I never did anything wrong," she added, trying to justify herself. Sometimes, explanations can't erase the mistakes we've made. Instead, they make us feel even more guilty.

Kashmala placed her phone on the table and pushed it toward Samaira. Samaira first looked at Kashmala in surprise, then picked up the phone. The moment her eyes fell on the screen, her face turned pale. The scene on the phone displayed a completely different picture.

In the photo, Behram was holding Samaira's hand. It was taken in a café. Then she saw another one, where Behram was sitting next to Samaira, his hand resting on hers. Samaira felt her eyes grow heavy, and the room felt suffocating. The path and destination both seemed lost in darkness. She couldn't even bring herself to look at Kashmala. Then she felt warm water dripping down her cheeks—her tears. 

Kashmala poured water into a glass and extended it toward Samaira.

"If you haven't done anything wrong, then why are you crying? Holding hands is such a small thing. What's so wrong with that?" Kashmala said sarcastically, shrugging her shoulders. "Look around you. Do you see any light? Are you still the same as you used to be?"

Samaira rubbed her eyes and wiped them with a tissue.

"He said he wants to marry me." She sat with her elbows resting on the table, holding the tissue in front of her nose.

"Then he should. He should marry you and be a man. Stop having secret meetings," Kashmala shuddered slightly and smiled.

"He said he would talk to everyone, and then he’d tell his family about me," Samaira explained, to which Kashmala laughed.

"Marrying Behram isn't something an ordinary girl can easily achieve. He’s from the elite class. And you... look at yourself. I’ll say it again—think it through." Kashmala picked up her phone and put it in her purse. "Do you have Behram’s number?" Samaira nodded while wiping her nose with the tissue. "Do you talk to him?" Samaira nodded again. "Even at night?" Samaira lowered her head and started crying. 

"Aneesa made the same mistake. Don’t repeat it. Remember, Aneesa still has to navigate the tough turns in life. Don’t do anything that could negatively affect her future." Kashmala carefully advised her. "As for Behram, I’ll discuss it with Mahnoor. She’ll tell mom, and dad probably already knows." Kashmala smiled and stood up. "Take care of yourself." 

Samaira, her hands on the table, stood up as well.

"Wait," she said, crying. "I’m not feeling well; I need to go home." She looked around, still crying, and grabbed her register and bag. Kashmala paused for her. Both of them left the room together.

"I'm not feeling well, so I'm taking leave today," Samaira told the boy at the reception and then walked out.

For those I bled upon the paths I tread,  

They now tell me, "Your vow, it is dead.

 

In the afternoon, there was a crowd outside the High Court. The sound of police sirens and car horns was quite loud. A peon was carrying tea and moving away when Kashmala stopped him coming from the corridor.

"Is Justice Khaleel Bajwa here?"

"Yes," the peon replied and quickly moved on.

Kashmala sat in a court room with her purse in her lap. She opened a file she was holding and smiled. Barrister Aitaizaz walked in and sat down on the chair next to Kashmala.

"How come you're here?" Aitaizaz asked, peering at Kashmala over his glasses.

"I'm withdrawing this case. We have forgiven Tanveer."

This was unexpected for Barrister Aitaizaz. He was greatly surprised.

"But why?" he asked, stunned.

"If my father can be a forgiving person, then why can’t I?" Kashmala smiled with dignity. "I have forgiven him," she said, raising her right hand.

"But you wanted justice," Aitaizaz said, scratching his beard.

"Yes. But killing in revenge for a murder... that’s a crime," Kashmala said in a tone of beneficence. "However, I should be given the authority to reopen the Junaid and Madiha murder case anytime I wish. Article 199!"

"Okay. That’s a matter for later," Aitaizaz pondered. "Did Behram advise you on this?"

"Behram? Come on. I’m not going to live my life based on Behram’s advice. I’m autonomous. I can make my own decisions," she replied seriously. "People like you need Behram’s dictation," Kashmala added with sarcasm. Aitaizaz raised an eyebrow, looking at Kashmala.

"Then why are you doing this? May I know the reason?"

"No, I’m not obliged to explain anything to you." Picking up her purse, she stood up. "I just wanted to let you know not to run around for Tanveer and to prepare his bail papers. Whether today or tomorrow, his bail will go through." With that, she left the room. Aitaizaz was left stunned.

"What just happened? Did Kashmala really..." he thought, and then called Behram.

"Hello!" Behram was sitting in the lounge with Sultana Begum at that moment.

"Kashmala has withdrawn the case?"

"What?" Behram was taken aback. Sultana looked at him with concern as she sipped her tea.

"Yes. And I’ll arrange for Tanveer’s bail papers now. Just wanted to inform you."

"Did you ask her why she did this?" Behram asked urgently.

"No. She said she didn’t feel the need to explain," came the reply before Bahram cut the call.

Kashmala was heading home now. She was satisfied but not happy. Overcome by time, she continually thought about Junaid and Madiha. Time was merciless, the rulers were oppressive, and the court was closed. The blood that had been shed was now just a drop of blood—worthless to many but invaluable to some.

On earth, I found no peace, no respite to see,  

Such was the punishment that God deemed worthy.

Behram was sitting in the office. There was still no message from Samaira, and on top of that, Kashmala had withdrawn the case. He was getting worried. Could it be that Samaira had found out the truth? He put on his coat and headed out, driving toward the courthouse. A short while later, he stopped his car outside the courthouse. Walking through the center, he stopped at the jail. He glanced sharply at Tanveer, who was sitting huddled in a corner. Behram took off his coat and placed it on a chair.

"Bring him behind me," Behram ordered the constable as he walked into a dark room. Two officers brought Tanveer, handcuffed, before Behram. Behram unbuttoned his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. When he extended his hand, an officer handed him a baton. In front of his eyes was the smiling face of Samaira, then Kashmala's serious expression. Behram swung the baton through the air and struck Tanveer's body. Screams echoed through the room.

"He’ll get bail in a few days anyway, so why not set his mind straight while I can? And Samaira… I’ll deal with her too. How dare she ignore me? This must be Kashmala’s big scheme behind withdrawing the case. She’s definitely up to something bigger," Behram kept thinking as he continued beating Tanveer.

The anger was meant for someone else, but it was being taken out on another. He ruthlessly kept hitting Tanveer until his body grew weak. Behram still intended to keep beating him when Furqan came and held him back.

"Sir, please stop. He’s going to die," Furqan said, taking the baton from Behram and pulling him away. Behram growled, brushed off his shirt, and loosened his tie knot before walking out.

"He’ll get bail tomorrow or the day after. Keep an eye on him," Furqan told the constable as he too left.

Is this the cry of a heart afflicted by despair?  

What’s become of me, with the sea beside me there?

The twilight had spread all over the sky. The streetlights of Lahore were on. Samaira was walking back home along the edge of the road. It was a deserted narrow alley. Gripping her purse tightly, she walked slowly. Every now and then, she glanced around, feeling a bit uneasy. There was a mosque along the way, where children were just coming out, laughing and playing. The state of the world is such now that God's houses are filled with the voices of children. In the neighborhood mosques, children are learning God's commandments. Samaira paused for a moment near the children. Once they put on their shoes and started walking, Samaira joined them. They were chatting among themselves, and Samaira followed behind, feeling a sense of safety with them.

"Alif, Ba, Ta, Tha, Jeem," a little boy was reciting the alphabet repeatedly. "Alif, Ba, Ta, Tha."

Smiling, Samaira continued walking, watching him. In the distance, the blue sky grew darker, and soon a star appeared, followed by more stars lighting up one by one. Along the way, the children's homes came, and they gradually disappeared into their houses. The street grew deserted once again. Samaira started walking faster. Her phone rang inside her purse, but she ignored it and kept walking until the distance to her home shortened, and she opened the gate and entered. Mahnoor was pacing at the lounge door, waiting for her.

"Where were you? I was so worried!" Mahnoor said. Samaira, moving slowly, lay down on the couch.

"Just tired, needed to rest. It's gotten late, Mahnoor. You shouldn't wait up for me." She spoke in a regretful tone.

"How could I not? I worry about you," Mahnoor replied gently.

"Yes, that's true. Worries... it's worries that eat a person up. Too much worry can consume a person." Samaira stood up and headed towards her room. Mahnoor could sense the exhaustion in her voice.

"What's wrong with her? Why is she talking like that? Maybe she's just tired," Mahnoor thought, shaking her head as she entered the room. Standing in front of the dressing table, she applied moisturizer to her hands and put it back.

"Kabeer... where’s my eye makeup? It was here," Mahnoor said, moving things around.

"I don't use it," Kabeer replied with a mix of sarcasm and humor.

"Of course, Kabeer, you don't," Mahnoor shot him a frustrated look. "I’m just asking." She shook her head and went back to looking at the table.

"It must be around here. Just check," Kabeer said while typing away on his laptop. Shayan was lying nearby. "You’ll find it." Mahnoor started opening the drawers, searching for her makeup.

When Samaira came inside, she saw things scattered all around. She stepped over the mess and reached the bed, taking off her bag from her shoulder. Aneesa came out of the washroom, holding small palettes filled with water in her hands. Her cheeks were sparkling, covered in color. A white prayer mat was laid out on the floor, with a neatly drawn green, shiny dome on it. Samaira sat quietly, turning her neck to watch. Aneesa’s white shirt was dirty at the front, and colors were splattered everywhere. She was mixing cosmetic eye makeup from Rivaj Cosmetics with water to create colors.

"Arches… golden arches would look good," she muttered to herself, sitting near the prayer mat with her knees bent. "Yes, this will work." She picked up a brush and started drawing arches with golden eyeshadow. The sleeves of her half-shoulder T-shirt were also stained with color from the bottom.

"You must be very happy," Samaira’s voice startled her.

"Me? Yes, I’m happy," Aneesa replied while working on the arches.

"You’re jealous of me." Tears rolled down Samaira’s cheeks. "You’re vile and low." Aneesa’s hands stopped. She felt her breath catch. She turned to look at Samaira. There was seriousness on Samaira's face, and she sat like a wounded tigress. "You told Kashmala about Behram, didn’t you?" Samaira asked, her gaze fixed deeply on Aneesa as she cried.

"I didn’t tell anyone," Aneesa said sadly. "Did you just call me vile?" Her mind got stuck on the word "vile."

"Yes, you are vile. You couldn’t get Omar, so now you want to snatch Behram from me," Samaira said, standing up and walking over to her.

"Why would I do that? I’m not vile!" Aneesa replied, her face showing signs of tears.

"You are. You can’t stand to see me happy."

"What competition do I have with you?"

"Exactly. You can never compete with me. Don’t even try," Samaira growled softly. "Behram is mine, Aneesa. Get rid of the idea that any prince will come for you. Huh."

"I never thought that," Aneesa said, now crying.

"Good. You deserve someone as horrible as Tanveer. I hope he beats you every day, tortures you daily, so you can understand what pain is, what the fear of losing something feels like." Her eyes were filled with hatred for Aneesa. Extreme hatred.

Aneesa stood up, looking at Samaira in disbelief. She was scared of her, terrified of the rage in Samaira’s wounded eyes. With her paint-stained hand, she wiped her left cheek, spreading golden color across it.

"Now get out of my way," Samaira said, grabbing Aneesa by the elbow and shoving her aside. She kicked over the paints, and all the colors scattered, glitter spilling everywhere.

"I told you, I’m with you," Aneesa said defensively. Samaira lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.

"Get lost," Samaira said softly, smiling as she cracked her fingers, resting them on her stomach. A thin line of blood trickled from her nose. Aneesa's heart began pounding loudly. Fear seeped into her. The deep, bright ruby around her neck glowed ominously. Aneesa pressed herself against the door, and with a quiet click, she opened it and ran outside.

"Kashmala!" she shouted while running. Everyone was just about to sit down at the dining table, and they all looked up toward the stairs. Aneesa kept running but stumbled at the end of the railing.

"Ahh... Kash..." she tried to speak, but her tongue seemed to betray her. She burst into loud sobs. Everyone rushed toward her. Mahnoor stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands covering her mouth as she watched. Kashmala, Khizar, Ayesha, and Gul-e-Lala hurriedly climbed the stairs. Aneesa reached out her hand toward them.

"What happened?" Kashmala asked anxiously as she sat down beside Aneesa, placing her head in her lap. Khizar rushed toward the room. He opened the door and suddenly stopped. Colors were scattered everywhere. Slowly, he walked toward Samaira, who was lying there.

"Samaira!" Khizar grabbed her hand. His breathing was rapid as he stared at her. He sat beside her and placed a hand on her forehead. Batool stood next to him. As soon as Khizar touched her forehead, Samaira's eyes snapped open like a crack of thunder. Her eyes gleamed red, like glowing rubies, filled with blood. In shock, Khizar pulled Batool close to him and backed away. As soon as they moved back, Samaira's eyes closed again. Ayesha had been standing at the door, witnessing everything. She collapsed to the floor with a thud. Gul-e-Lala rushed forward to try and lift her, and Batool came to help.

Khizar murmured prayers under his breath, reciting everything he could remember, as he sat next to Samaira again. He placed his hand back on her forehead, his lips still moving in constant prayer. Samaira suddenly grabbed his wrist and began clawing at him with her nails. Khizar tightened his grip on her forehead, continuing his recitations. Kashmala had rushed into the room by then. Downstairs, Aneesa sat clinging to Mahnoor, terrified. Ayesha was lying unconscious on the couch, with Batool rubbing her hands to revive her.

"No, I want to sleep with you," Aneesa sobbed, clinging to Mahnoor’s neck. "You’re my safe place. I’m scared. I won’t go into that room." Aneesa was trembling in fear.

"Let go! Look at your clothes; they’re all dirty," Mahnoor said as she tried to peel Aneesa's hands off from around her waist. But Aneesa was adamant. "Doesn't Samaira attend any therapy sessions?" Mahnoor asked, looking over at Aneesa.

"I don’t know. Just don’t leave me now," Aneesa continued clinging to her. Kabeer sat on the other couch, his head bowed, silent and deep in thought.

"Amma... Amma..." Ayesha murmured faintly in her unconscious state.

"Yes, I'm here. It's me, Gul-e-Lala." Gul-e-Lala quickly sat next to Ayesha.

"Let me check on Ayesha," Mahnoor said as she stood up. Aneesa, still clinging to her, followed closely. Mahnoor sprinkled water on Ayesha's face, and she slowly sat up.

"Does Samaira have some sort of possession?" Aneesa asked fearfully.

"I... I don't know... her eyes... they were glowing red like embers," Ayesha said, her eyes wide with fear, struggling to explain. "What was that?"

"Mahnoor, I'm scared," Aneesa gripped Mahnoor's arm tightly.

"Will you stop it?" Mahnoor scolded her. "There’s nothing like that. Khizar and Kashmala are with her; they’ll take care of it."

Khizar continued reciting from the Quran, his voice unwavering. Kashmala sat by Samaira's head, her hand resting on Samaira's chest, softly repeating the last three Surahs of the Quran. Samaira opened her mouth as if to say something. Khizar and Kashmala exchanged glances.

"Behram..." The word escaped from Samaira's lips. Kashmala's face immediately filled with anger. "Behram..." Samaira called out again in a soft voice. Khizar resumed his recitation with more intensity.

"A'udhu billahi min ash-shaytan ir-rajim." Samaira struggled to speak, her lips barely moving. It seemed as though something was tying a knot around her tongue, her chest clenched tightly as if in a vise. It was as if she was standing in a desert, her throat parched with an unbearable thirst, longing for water.

"Qul a'udhu bi rabbin-nas." A voice resonated deep within her heart.

"Malik al-nas"

"Ilah al-nas" A lump formed in her throat.

"Min shar al-waswas al-khannas" The heaviness on her chest began to lift.

"Alladhi yuwaswisu fi sudur al-nas"

"Min al-jinnati wa al-nas"  The knot in her tongue untied. She regained control over her senses and suddenly opened her eyes. Her breathing stabilized, and she sat up. Khizar handed her a glass of water.

"What are you doing here?" Samaira asked, looking at Khizar. He glanced at Kashmala, then stood up and quietly left the room. 

"What happened?" Samaira turned toward Kashmala.

"Nothing. You just fainted," Kashmala forced a smile. Samaira felt pain throughout her body and lay back down. Her eyes burned intensely. Outside, the night had grown dark.

O perfect guide, I am ready to follow, but keep this in mind, I plead,  

Make me lose my way at that moment, when the destination's just in reach.

In the late hours of the night, dark clouds were scattered across the sky. Through the window, the moon could be seen hiding behind the clouds. The faint light from the laptop illuminated Fateh's face. He lay on the bed, turned to his left side with his arms crossed over his chest. In front of him, the laptop was open. An email was displayed. He stared at the screen with tear-filled eyes. A tear trickled down from his nose and fell onto the pillow. He was feeling pain. With trembling hands, he touched the name in the corner of the laptop and smiled faintly.

"I'm sorry," he smiled bitterly at himself. "See! How God is showing me my worth. My punishment is yet to come. Sins don’t leave me. They keep my heart restless. Today, I am in the place where I wanted to bring you. I am in pain." His vision blurred as he felt a mist before his eyes. He rubbed his eyes to wipe away the tears and looked at the laptop again.

"You didn't curse me, did you? Will you forgive me? I've lost my way. But now... now I want to walk the path that leads directly to Allah, the path where people find guidance, become eternal. I want to renounce everything in this world, but this pain... and you... you're still before me. I need to be free, from every bond that stands between me and my Lord. I must rebuild myself from scratch."

The room was engulfed in darkness, with only the faint light from the laptop glowing. Then, his phone, lying on the side table, buzzed. He remained focused on the laptop. The phone screen lit up with a name: "Moeen calling." After several calls, one after another, messages started pouring in.

"Guilt can be a blessing. Sometimes a burden. But if it's there, one finds success. Yet, it brings pain too."

The calls continued. He finally closed the laptop, set it aside, and picked up the phone to answer.

"Hmm," he murmured sluggishly.

"Man, you know what? We found her!" Moeen's voice came from the other side, filled with excitement.

"Who did you find?" Fateh rubbed his eyes.

"The one who came to the club and ran away. We found her, Fateh." In that moment, Fateh's sleep and peace were completely shattered. "We got her address, brother. Tell me, when should we go?" And with those words, a chill ran through his soul. She’s been found. It felt as if someone had clenched his chest tightly. Once again, the night had turned terrifying. The darkness seemed to deepen.

"Where?" The word slipped from his lips involuntarily. Even he didn’t know what he was saying.

"Yeah, we’ve seen her house. Tomorrow morning, we'll make our move. Be ready. When no one's home, we'll kidnap her." Moeen was casually delivering the news, laying out the plan, full of excitement. "We’ll enjoy it this time. We won’t let her go. And now, we know her weakness too. Man, are you even listening?"

"Hmm..." Fateh responded in a daze.

"Then we’ll dump her somewhere in the trash. Where she truly belongs." His heart was sinking. Darkness was closing in on his mind. Then, all sound stopped. Only his hand remained hanging, with drops of blood trickling from it—red.

How long I’ve waited for your speech in wonder,  

Now I suspect it’s like a painting’s thunder.

The university was bustling with students. Aneesa and Gul-e-Lala made their way through the crowd and reached the classroom. Aneesa placed her bag on a desk and sat down. She took out a book and placed it to her left, as that spot was reserved for Masooma. Gul-e-Lala sat on her right. There were still ten minutes left before the class would begin. Masooma usually arrived twenty minutes early. When she didn’t show up, Aneesa realized that she must be absent today. She put the book back in her bag and took out her notebook to revise yesterday's lesson. Besides Gul-e-Lala and Masooma, no one else ever sat with her. Today, too, the seat was empty. Some students were making remarks about her, as usual. Ignoring them, she continued studying.

Suddenly, a bag was placed on the desk, and someone sat beside her. The room fell into complete silence. All the students were frozen in place. Those who had been standing remained still. Aneesa turned to her left and was equally shocked. Malikah was sitting next to her. A hairband held back her loose hair, and like Aneesa, she was also wearing a hijab and an abaya. Malikah smiled at Aneesa, but Aneesa sat there with a blank expression.

"Sorry," Malikah said as she took Aneesa’s hand. Just then, Sir Mukhtar Ahmed entered the class, and everyone quickly took their seats. Aneesa and Malikah also sat up straight. The lecture had begun, and now they couldn't talk, but even so, Malikah kept glancing at Aneesa from time to time. Aneesa kept her eyes lowered, focused on her notebook, though her mind kept wandering. Sir Mukhtar was known for quickly spotting distracted students and throwing them out of class.

"Stand up, Queen of the Empire!" he said, looking at Aneesa. She stood up.

"Are you relaxing here?" he asked sternly.

"No, sir," she replied, her eyes still lowered. The class suppressed giggles.

"Did I crack a joke? Or did Lady Aneesa crack one?" Sir Mukhtar scolded the class. "Sit down and pay attention to the lecture." Aneesa sat down and looked at the whiteboard.

"Changing the angle of your gaze changes nothing. You have to change your thoughts from within. Do you understand?" he said before resuming his lecture.

After he left, Malikah placed her hand on Aneesa’s shoulder, trying to talk to her, but Aneesa ignored her and began speaking to Gul-e-Lala, pretending as if she hadn’t noticed Malikah at all.

"Don't do this to her," Gul-e-Lala, resting his head on his arm on the desk, whispered softly to Aneesa. "If she’s guilty, forgive her. Maybe she had her reasons. We never know what someone’s going through, what phase of life they’re in, or what crisis they might be facing. For the sake of humanity, for the sake of pleasing Allah, rekindle your friendship. Hmm?" Gul-e-Lala raised his eyebrows, asking her. "She’s been quiet since she arrived, looking troubled. Did you even ask what happened?"

Aneesa turned to look at Malikah, who sat alone, her head bowed, sadness filling her eyes. She was present, yet it seemed like no one was with her. Aneesa put herself in Malikah’s shoes and moved closer to her.

"What’s wrong? Why are you so sad today?" Aneesa asked. Upon hearing this, Malikah's ’s restraint broke, and she began to cry. It was as if a tree had turned green again, as if a long-lost friend had returned. Aneesa took her hand and led her outside. They both sat on a bench under a tree.

"I care about you. I want to keep you as my friend," Malikah said with a smile, wiping away her tears. "I’m sorry."

Aneesa hugged her and smiled gently.

"I admit, you didn’t treat me well that night, but now I want you to help me," Aneesa said in a serious tone.

"What kind of help?" Malikah asked, startled. "I’m ready to do anything. For you. For our friendship." Malikah smiled to herself.

"What’s going on here?" The principal stood before them. Both quickly stood at attention.

"We were discussing the notes, Principal Ma'am," Aneesa quickly replied.

"Where are the notes?" Sultana Begum asked, looking at her hands.

"They’re in my bag, but I was helping Malikah revise," she said confidently. On the other side, Malikah was smiling under her veil.

"Try to discuss lessons with the whole class. It will benefit many," Sultana Begum said, giving them both a glance before walking ahead.

"Is she on rounds today?" Aneesa laughed.

"Shush! If she hears you, she’ll come back," Malikah warned. "By the way, she’s very caring. Quite decent. Kind, too," Malikah listed her virtues.

"Please don’t start a 'principal appreciation' talk now." Aneesa stood up and headed back to class, with Malikah following her. Both sat down, smiling. The class was about to become lively again.

I’ll take you from these shadows’ sway,  

To show you light in a bright array.  

The room was dimly lit. Batool sat with her eyes closed, resting her head on the arm of the sofa. Her hair was tied up in a bun with a clip. Khizar softly came and sat beside her, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. He had just returned. It was one in the night.

"Batool, are you asleep?" he gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

"No," Batool replied without lifting her head.

"Sorry, I’m late. You could've gone to sleep, it’s alright," Khizar changed his shoes and went to the washroom. When he came back, she was still sitting in the same position.

"Are you okay? Is your health alright?" Khizar crouched beside her, lifted her forehead, and placed his hand on it to check her temperature.

"Yeah," she responded with a tired smile.

"Okay." He went outside. Batool got up and placed Khizar's shoes on the rack, then began to prepare the bed. Maybe he had already eaten. She dimmed the light further and lay down. Now, a very faint blue light was glowing in the room. The door opened. She knew it was Khizar, so she stayed calm and continued lying down. Khizar turned off that blue light too and sat down beside her. Now the room was in complete darkness. He switched on a light and lit the candle on the cake he was holding.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," he softly began to hum. Batool, smiling at the sound, sat up. "May you have many more," Khizar continued in the same melody. There were small pieces of red cake on a plate, and when Batool saw it, she burst into a laugh, her eyes sparkling in the glow of the candle flame.

"When I blow out the candle, it'll go dark," she said in a childlike manner, clasping her hands together. Khizar placed the plate between them and set the candle down beside the cake.

"If it gets dark, you won't see the gift I brought," he said as he kneeled beside her. The cake was in front of them, and the flame flickered. Khizar pulled something out of his jacket pocket. In the dim light, a small black velvet box appeared. He opened it in front of Batool, and the light inside the box lit up, revealing a sparkling diamond.

"Wow!" Batool gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. "Is it real? A real diamond?"

"Yes," Khizar laughed instinctively. Batool took the box in her hand and touched the diamond. Khizar leaned closer, lifted her chin, kissed her neck, and then pulled back.

"Thank you. You remembered? Who told you about my birthday?" She kept looking back and forth between the cake, the diamond ring, and Khizar.

"I knew," he said, placing his hand on her cheek.

"Let’s eat the cake. Turn on the light," she said excitedly. Khizar turned on the blue light, and the room was once again bathed in a soft glow. He picked up a piece of cake and fed it to Batool.

"This cake is so delicious!" she said with joy.

"Did you like it?" Khizar asked while eating some cake himself.

"Very much. I’ve never had a cake like this before."

"There’s another surprise," Khizar said. Batool smiled, her eyes questioning. "I met Abdul Qudoos today. And we’re going to get a new house."

"Really? Abdul Qudoos will live with us? Where did you meet him? Why didn’t you bring him along?" she asked excitedly, all in one breath.

"Patience, patience," Khizar said, pulling her close and laughing. "I ran into him at the market. He had some work."

"Then you should’ve brought him," she said with a hint of annoyance, looking up at Khizar.

"I told him, but he had an emergency, I think. He had to leave in a hurry."

"Oh," Batool pouted. "But will he live with us in the new house?"

"No, that house will be ours, Batool—yours and mine. He can stay if he wants, but..." Khizar laughed.

"Okay," she smiled and continued eating the cake. Khizar sat beside her, the candle melting as the flame flickered. Khizar lit the glass candle and placed it on the bedside table.

"Khizar, you're so good," she said while eating, crumbs from the red cake clearly visible on her lips.

"I told you, one day everything would be alright. And now, look, everything is falling into place. Soon, we’ll be a family." Batool paused, smiling. "When you believe, anything is possible," he said, looking at her with hope, then smiled. "I love you." He wrapped his arms firmly around her. With one arm around Khizar, she continued to eat cake with the other.

"Don’t mess up my jacket," Khizar teased, laughing in her ear. She was quietly eating, still in a bit of a daze. She had never imagined someone would be so gentle with her, that someone would hold her so closely, so soon. The touch was soft, the embrace strong, the flickering candlelight bright. In that moment, her heart beat in a new rhythm. Something descended from the sky—perhaps love.

"Khizar, when will we move to the new house?"

"Very soon, Insha'Allah," he said lovingly, running his fingers through her hair as he loosened it.

"And Kashmala bhabhi and Ayan bhai?"

"They’ll be in their home, and we’ll be in ours." She opened her mouth to say something, but then fell silent. The piece of cake in her hand was finished, and her fingers were smeared with crumbs. She kept her hands carefully at a distance to avoid dirtying Khizar's jacket. As Khizar moved back slightly, he licked the cake off her fingers.

"Eww!" she scrunched up her face, but Khizar was smiling.

"It's okay," he said, pulling her into a hug. "This was the reward of patience."

The tree of Adam, before me, stood in grace,  

With fruit's delight, thoughts of eternity embraced.

The morning light was spreading everywhere. It was eight o’clock. Amar had finished breakfast and was now heading to university. Sultana Begum called out to Iftikhar.

"Yes, Begum Sahiba." He appeared before her, hands folded.

"Where are Behram and Fateh? Go and call them," she ordered, and Iftikhar went to carry out her command. When he entered Behram's room to call him, he saw that Behram was already ready and about to come downstairs.

"Sir… Sultana Begum is calling you for breakfast," Iftikhar informed him and left the room, moving towards Fateh’s door.

"Saheb ji," Iftikhar called. "Saheb ji." He knocked again. After knocking three or four times and receiving no response, he returned downstairs. Behram was now seated at the breakfast table, eating.

"What did he say?" Sultana asked Iftikhar as he entered.

"He didn’t open the door. Perhaps he's taking a shower," Iftikhar reported.

"Alright, you may go." She gestured for him to leave and resumed her breakfast.

"When are you going to see the girl?" Sultana Begum asked Behram, taking a bite of fruit with her fork.

"Next month maybe," he replied.

"Hmm… It’s good. Once you have a wife, your heart will stay engaged," Sultana Begum smiled, but Behram found her words a bit odd. After breakfast, he got up and headed towards Fateh’s room. The door was closed. He turned the handle, but it was locked. He called out, but there was no response. Growing anxious, he tried to force the door open. After repeatedly pushing against it with his shoulder, the door finally gave way. All the servants gathered around. Sultana Begum, now worried, stood next to Behram, clutching his arm.

In a state of shock, Behram stared in disbelief at Fateh’s lifeless body on the bed. His palm had dried blood on it, a blade lay on the floor, and pills were scattered from a bottle. Sultana let out a scream and rushed to Fateh. Behram, still reeling, called Iftikhar and together they supported Fateh as they rushed him to the hospital. Sultana was by their side the entire time.

Fifteen minutes later, they were at the hospital. Behram, drained and exhausted, was trying to comfort Sultana.

"Aunty, he’ll be fine. The doctors are checking on him," he said, wrapping his arm around her in reassurance.

"Where’s my brother?" Zimil came running towards Behram.

"He’s in the operating theater. He’ll be okay," Behram said, trying to soothe her with comforting words.

"What happened to him?" she asked, trying to keep herself composed.

"I don’t know," Behram replied, shaking his head in confusion.

They all sat there, waiting. Zimil leaned her head against the wall. She kept glancing at the clock on her wrist, then at Sultana. Time seemed to have slowed down, and the wait was becoming unbearable.

A worker stepped out from inside, and all three of them looked up at him.

"My son… how is my son?" Sultana asked, sobbing.

"Please, arrange B+ blood from the blood bank," he said before heading back inside.

"I’ll… I’ll do it," Behram quickly said and left in a hurry.

"Mom, Fateh will be okay," Zimil reassured Sultana as she helped her sit on the bench and offered her a bottle of water. Sultana took a couple of sips and then placed the bottle back on the bench.

At the reception, Behram stood, looking tense. That's when he noticed Samaira. She had already seen him as well.

"Everything okay?" Samaira asked as she approached him. She looked better today compared to that night.

"Yeah… Fateh attempted suicide. I’m arranging blood," Behram said, scratching his forehead.

"What blood type do you need?"

"B+", In a rush, Behram replied. "By the way, what’s yours?"

"Mine’s also B+, but I just donated a bottle yesterday, so… But don’t worry, we’ll find it. Come on, I’ll help you," she said with a smile, and Behram followed her. "By the way, who’s handling the case?"

"Dr. Jabbar," he replied.

"Yes, Dr. Jabbar is a good person," Samaira said thoughtfully. They had both left the hospital by then.

After a short while, they returned with the blood arranged. Samaira went down to the basement, while Behram stood with Zimil and Sultana, leaning against the wall with his hands behind his back. A few moments later, Dr. Jabbar came out.

"We’ve done a stomach wash. He took an overdose of pills, but thankfully, he is out of danger now," Dr. Jabbar said seriously. "We don’t usually handle suicide cases, but..." he shook his head and walked away.

"Can I see him? He’s my son," Sultana Begum pleaded.

"No, let them shift him to the ICU first," a nurse said as she walked past.

When his eyes opened, light was everywhere. The bright lights of the room made his eyes squint. He looked at himself and saw a needle in his arm. In front of him, Sultana Begum was smiling at him. Zimil was standing beside her, leaning on her shoulder. Behram was sitting on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other.

"How are you?" Zimil asked with a smile.

"I survived?" he said regretfully.

"I’ll smack you if you ever say that again!" Behram stood up and moved towards him. "At least think about your mother. Why did you do this?"

"I don’t want to live anymore," he said, shaking his head.

"Why, my child?" Sultana sat beside him. "I can't live without you," she said, kissing his bandaged hand.

"Mom," he spoke softly. "I want new people in my life, people who are good, who are beautiful, with beautiful hearts," he said, looking at Sultana.

"What is he saying?" Sultana looked over at Behram.

"He's lost his mind," Behram said, irritated. "Leave him alone for a while. He’ll get better on his own." Then he looked at Fateh. "Does death seem easy to you?"

"No, death is very hard. Giving up life is difficult. I wanted to call out to all of you, but my voice… even I couldn’t hear it. I was helpless then, and I still am."

"You're not helpless, you’re mentally disturbed." Behram left the room and returned with the doctor. Dr. Jabbar gave Fateh a brief examination and administered an injection, after which everything went dark.

The spell of circumstances turned us both to stone,  

Yet neither you nor I dwelt on memories alone.

In the evening, the palace lay desolate. Niaz had arrived in Lahore. When he entered the palace, there was an eerie silence. No one was in sight. He walked into Behram's room and called out for Iftikhar.

"Where have you all disappeared to? I've been calling for so long!" he snapped as he reclined halfway onto the bed. Iftikhar stood there with his head bowed. 

"Where is everyone?" Niaz asked angrily.

"The young master fell ill. They’ve taken him to the hospital," Iftikhar said with his hands clasped together.

"Fateh?" Niaz asked, and Iftikhar nodded in confirmation. "Who else is home?"

"Just the servants," he replied softly.

"When will they be back?"

"They should be on their way," Iftikhar glanced at the clock. "They might be late, but I don’t know for sure."

"Is Malikah here? Send her over," Niaz said, narrowing his eyes. Iftikhar obeyed, and soon Malikah appeared. She entered the room, taking small steps, and stopped just after stepping inside the door.

"Close the door and come here," Niaz growled. Malikah locked the door and stood before him with her hands folded. Her heart trembled, fear enveloped the room. Niaz got up and pulled her by the arm to sit next to him.

"Don’t you understand what I say?" he said, gripping her arm tightly. His eyes were piercing, filled with lust. His fingers were about to dig into Malikah's delicate arm. She sat there like a statue while Niaz used her, like a toy placed in front of him to amuse himself. He touched her cheeks, her neck, her arms, and her back. She sat there, steeling her heart. She wanted to cry, to scream and call for her mother, but she stifled her own voice.

"Please, don't do this." She feel ashamed, terribly humiliated."

"Why? I'm your husband. I can do this."

"I don't feel good about this. Someone might come," Malikah said in a low voice.

"No one will come. Everyone is outside," Niaz smiled.

"Please, let me go. Amma is at home," Malikah said in a trembling voice. Her heart was feeling uneasy, and she was disgusted by Niaz Sikandar's touch.

"You haven't told anyone about me, have you?" A sudden thought crossed Niaz's mind, and he looked up to ask Malikah. She quickly wiped her tears and shook her head in denial.

"Why are you crying, Malikah? Did I do something wrong? I’m your husband," he said, smiling, trying to appear softer. Malikah remained silent. Niaz leaned in and bit her shoulder. Malikah screamed and tried to push him away, but the pain only deepened.

"Just like you made a sound now, speak up," he said. She began to tremble. "Speak!" he shouted.

"No... you are very kind," she said between sobs. Niaz smiled, pulled her close, and patted her head. Her shoulder throbbed with pain. The spot where he had bitten her was burning and aching.

"You are very beautiful, Malikah. I just realized it now. If I had known earlier, I would have never made Jahan Ara a part of my life," he said with a smile, looking at her. "Why are you crying? Did someone die?" Niaz smiled outwardly, but his eyes were sharp with anger.

"I can be even worse," Niaz pointed to her shoulder.

"I love you," Malikah quickly said, trying to calm him down. Niaz felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. He moved even closer, eliminating the remaining distance between them, while Malikah lay there, sobbing quietly.

"Stay with me, and you will live a life of luxury, absolute luxury. Did you ever think your life would be like this? Huh?" Niaz was trying to convince her sweetly. Her dupatta had fallen, and her shoes were lying haphazardly.

"I never thought my life would be like this," she barely managed to say. "Ha... so beautiful? Never," she breathed.

She sat there like a statue, as if on display for people to come, look at, touch, and then leave. Her body was in pain, tormented. Some moments from the past flashed before her eyes, but she remained silent. Only her heart was screaming. And who can hear the screams of a heart? Only One.

Here, people meet and part for their needs,  

We’ve come to your city for the sake of love, indeed.  

A month and a half later

It was a Saturday. Soft sunlight filtered into the veranda. Sahira had cleaned the entire house today. Special guests were expected, and the house had been prepared meticulously. Everything was arranged with care. Naheed had also left no stone unturned in the preparations. Aneesa and Samaira were at home. Around Asr, five cars pulled up in front of the house. A man stepped out and opened the door of one of the cars. A woman wearing a sari stepped out, followed by Behram, dressed in a white kurta and shalwar. In the second car, Niaz Sikander arrived with Ibrahim. Taimoor and Aleena came out last, accompanied by two children. They all entered the house. Behram held a bouquet of roses in his hand. Shahroz stepped forward to welcome them and led them into a room with sofas. Zakariya was also there. They all sat down in the room.

"Aneesa, they've arrived, and you're still not ready," Samaira said while putting on earrings. Her hair was open, with half of it falling to the front on her right side. Like Aneesa, the only makeup she used was pink lipstick.

"They’ve come to see you, and it's going to be a yes," Aneesa added. Aneesa was lying on the bed, with her dupatta draped over her shoulder. One foot was dangling off the bed, which she was continuously swinging.

"Is this the impression you’re going to give if someone comes into the room?" Samaira scolded her, putting the dupatta over her head. Aneesa yawned and sat up.

"I’ve supported you," she said softly before getting up and walking out of the room. Samaira looked at her in surprise and confusion, then shrugged and sat in the middle of the bed. Aneesa returned, holding a samosa in her hand.

"Practice being a bride," Aneesa laughed as she said it.

"No, you teach me," Samaira said, getting up, closing the door, and coming over to Aneesa.

"Okay," Aneesa stuffed the entire samosa into her mouth, quickly ate it, and stood in front of the mirror.

"Now, imagine you’re Behram." Samaira nodded in agreement. "Whatever I ask you, you have to respond exactly how I tell you to. Got it?"

"Yes," Samaira said with interest.

"First, you need to act shy, and don’t look at Behram at all. Okay?" Aneesa showed her how to act shy. "If he asks you something, just smile and giggle. If he asks for an answer, don’t say anything."

"Aneesa... if he asks for an answer, I’ll have to respond! How can I just stay quiet?" Samaira felt annoyed. "But what do I say?" She was confused.

"First, tell him you don’t know how to do household chores. Then tell him you want to work. And finally, tell him you want lots of love from him," Aneesa said, spreading her arms dramatically.

"Aneesa... but what if he thinks I’m setting too many conditions?"

"So? Let him think that. It’s the truth," she smiled. "He'll be here soon. When you meet him, talk to him properly." Aneesa sat next to her and gently ran her fingers through Samaira’s hair, as if showing affection. "If at any point you feel something is wrong, I’ll support whatever decision you make." She held Samaira’s hand.

"Thank you," Samaira hugged her. A tear fell and landed on Samaira's back.

"Are you crying?" Samaira asked.

"Yes. I miss Junaid Bhai. If he were here today, how much fun we would have had. I would have eaten so many of the guests' treats," she laughed through her tears. There was a knock at the door. Aneesa quickly opened it to find Sahira standing there with Behram.

"Beh... Behram!" Aneesa exclaimed with happiness and surprise, glancing at Samaira. "Aren't you going to call Samaira first?"

"You can call me 'brother'," Behram said as he entered. Aneesa stepped aside. Aneesa tried to smile. "I had spoken to Mom. I wanted to meet her first before introducing her to everyone."

"Come outside," Sahira said, grabbing Aneesa's hand.

"Why?" Aneesa asked seriously, but Sahira pulled her along and they went to the kitchen.

"I don't know what he will say to Samaira. I need to be with Samaira," Aneesa said with concern. Sahira laughed.

"Don't be like a mother to her," Sahira said, returning to the room where the guests were seated.

Samaira stood next to the bed, smiling slightly. Behram approached her, walking slowly.

"Please, sit," Samaira said, gesturing to the sofa. Behram smiled and sat down on the sofa placed near the standing area. Samaira sat beside him at a little distance. Behram glanced around the room. It wasn't very large but was decorated with elegance.

"I don’t know how to do household chores," she said softly.

"Mm, they will come," Behram said, looking around the room. He was inspecting the space. In one corner, he noticed several white prayer rugs. His gaze lingered. He remained composed, while there were also boxes of colors and several paintbrushes nearby.

"I want to continue my job even after marriage. It's my passion," Samaira said cautiously, speaking slowly. Behram looked at her, and she lowered her eyes, blushing.

"And?" Behram asked, looking at her oddly.

"What was the third thing Aneesa told me?" Samaira tried to remember. Yes, then it came back to her, and she wondered if she should say it. "And?" She raised her eyes to meet Behram's gaze.

"Yes. And?" Behram smiled.

"I want lots of love from you, Behram Sikander," she said with a pounding heart. Behram laughed. Samaira nervously bit her lip.

"You are very innocent," Behram said, reaching out to hold her hands. As Behram tried to kiss her hands, she pulled them away.

"Please, not now," she stood up.

"This wait is cruel, like your love," Behram also stood up and whispered into her ear. "Brown... from today, you are my Brown." Samaira smiled and blushed.

Just then, Aneesa opened the door abruptly. Both stepped away from each other.

"I forgot my phone," Aneesa said, tossing the pillow aside and retrieving her phone from behind it. "I'll let Mahnoor and Kashmala know that the marriage is confirmed." She went outside.

"Isn't there a custom of knocking before entering in your city?" Behram asked Samaira.

"No, it's not like that. Aneesa... she was in a hurry. That's just how she is. Funny, a bit," Samaira explained, picking up the pillow and placing it properly on the bed. "Did it bother you?" she asked carefully.

"No," he replied with a restrained smile. "I’m just a well-disciplined person. I like everything to be in order. I hope you are the same." Samaira nodded with a smile. "And you need to behave decently in front of Mom. She doesn’t like outspoken girls," Behram added softly.

"Let's go outside," Samaira said, heading toward the door. Behram followed her out of the room, smiling. Samaira adjusted her dupatta and stood in front of the guests. On the table, there were baskets of sweets and fruits. Samaira sat down next to Aleena. Aneesa quickly took the seat to her right. Behram sat on the other sofa, his eyes fixed on Samaira.

"Next Friday, the wedding will take place in the mosque. Only close relatives will be there, and we’ll have a grand reception," Niaz said with a smile. Everyone agreed.

"Such a lovely girl," Jahan Ara said as she walked over to Samaira, taking a ring from a box and placed it on Samaira's finger. She patted Samaira's cheek and then returned to her seat. Samaira sat with a neutral expression, surrounded by the gaze of everyone present. Amidst the crowd, she noticed her father, who was talking and looking in another direction. The gathering continued in this manner until they departed after Isha prayers.

"A piece of love from your city Mianwali is leaving with me. Congratulations on this day," Samaira received a message from Behram on her mobile, causing her to smile.

Strange is the path of words, look, Nasir, it’s true,  

We ended up at a place where none could pursue.  

Golden light was pouring in like streams from the waterfalls. Flowers bloomed in the backyard. It was spring. Only one room felt like autumn. Aneesa lay diagonally on the bed, her head resting on her arm, which was stretched out. She was wearing a long, yellow netted frock that extended down to her ankles, spreading across the bed. All the wedding ceremonies were to take place in Lahore. Samaira, dressed as a bride, sat in the lounge. Kashmala and Mahnoor were seated with her. Farhana, Anam, and Mashal were also present there. Omar had returned from Europe. Aneesa's eyes were wet. She felt strange. Nothing appealed to her. The door opened, and Batool entered.

"Why are you lying here like this?" Batool asked, placing something in the wardrobe. Aneesa lay on her back and looked at Batool.

"Will you all leave after Samaira's wedding too?" Aneesa muttered under her breath. Batool paused for a moment, looked at her, and sat down beside her.

"Will you miss us?"

"Yes. When you all are here, it feels like you fill the gaps of so many people in my life."

"That's how life is." Batool smiled tightly, pressing her lips together, and held Aneesa's hand resting on her stomach. "You shouldn't get too attached to people in such a way that when they leave, it's hard to let go." Aneesa sat up and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "Come outside; everyone is waiting for you. Samaira misses you. She will be gone soon," Batool said affectionately.

"Samaira? She doesn't miss me. She doesn't even like me." And then, the golden rays gathered her in their embrace, taking her back to a time when Samaira's voice echoed. She stood there, dazed. Batool was saying something, gently leading her along, but she was still lost in the spell.

Both of them sat down on a sofa. Aneesa’s trance broke when she saw Omar. Once again, she found herself back in the present, exactly where she had tried to escape from. Her nemesis sat right across from her. Aneesa averted her gaze. Samaira was laughing with Mahnoor, saying something. Her face was smeared with turmeric, and her hands were adorned with henna.

"Who knows where Gul-e-Lala went? I sent him to get the cake," Kashmala muttered.

"Shall I go get the cake?" Aneesa stood up and came to sit beside Kashmala.

"You will go?" Kashmala looked at her, surprised.

"Yes, with Gul-e-Lala."

"Okay. Come back quickly." Kashmala handed her the money. Aneesa ran to her room, quickly put on a veil, and hurried outside. Gul-e-Lala was waiting for her. As soon as she arrived, they both set out for the bakery. Driving fast, they reached the bakery. Gul-e-Lala got out and went inside to get the cake while Aneesa waited in the car. When he returned, he had a white cake in a box in one hand and small pieces of cake in the other. He handed one to Aneesa.

"How am I supposed to eat this? I have a veil on," she said while driving, holding the cake in the same hand she was using to steer the wheel.

"Don't worry. Just eat. People don't really notice much," Gul-e-Lala shrugged while eating his piece of cake.

"Hmm," Aneesa shook her head. "My father has a lot of connections in this city. If someone sees me... I have many enemies here." She laughed.

"Don't say that. Your dad is a really good man. He's been preparing everything for Samaira since morning. It's a big day for him. He's so caring... loving... decent... and loyal." Gul-e-Lala was carefully choosing his words to praise Zakariya.

"Okay, stop. Enough with this Zakariya story," Aneesa shivered slightly, still focused on the road.

"No, I'm serious. Uncle is a really good person. You all love him so much. He's worked so hard for you all. Whatever place you guys are in today, it's all thanks to Zakariya Uncle." Gul-e-Lala smiled.

"And Junaid’s death is also thanks to him," Aneesa thought angrily and sped up the car.

"You guys can never repay his kindness... not in this lifetime..."

Aneesa drove the car into the house and parked it in the lawn, despite Mahnoor's repeated requests not to do so. 

"Gul-e-Lala..." As Gul-e-Lala was about to get out of the car, Aneesa called out to him. He paused, sitting back down and turning toward her. "Close the door." She gestured toward the door, and Gul-e-Lala complied, shutting it. Aneesa removed her veil and looked at him.

"I can never repay my father's debt, but..." she said, keeping her gaze fixed on Gul-e-Lala.

"But...?" Gul-e-Lala asked, confused.

"I want to repay yours."

"My debt? What debt?"

"Thanks for the Zakariya saga, Gul-e-Lala." With that, she reached forward and smeared the pastry all over his face. Gul-e-Lala tried to shield himself, but Aneesa laughed uncontrollably.

"Stop it," he chuckled, his voice trailing off outside the car. Aneesa, holding up her long frock, dashed out of the car and ran inside the house.

"Don't forget the cake, Gul-e-Lala!" She shouted over her shoulder as she ran. Gul-e-Lala heard her, grabbed the cake, and entered the house, his face smeared with blue and white food coloring. He placed the cake on the centerpiece table. 

Aneesa stepped forward, cut the cake, picked up two pieces, and walked into the room where Samaira was sitting. Smiling, she fed a piece of cake to Samaira and took a bite herself. And so, laughing and smiling, she spent the rest of the day with Samaira.

The enjoyment continued late into the night. Everyone was together. Tomorrow was Samaira’s official departure(rukhsati). Aneesa stood in front of the dressing table, looking at herself. In front of her lay a closed box, containing the "Sheesh Mahal" — a gift from Kashmala to Samaira. Aneesa picked it up and turned it on, and the entire palace lit up. The light pulled her into a different world, a captivating one, where she was with a prince. He was a regal figure, a man.

Aneesa, dressed in a beautiful outfit, was running, her hair flowing in the wind. The prince was chasing after her. Each time she glanced back, she would enchant him with her playful expressions. She kept twirling around as she ran, teasing the prince. He was getting closer. Eventually, she stopped, surrendering herself to him. The prince gently held her by the waist, lifting her and spinning her around. Aneesa placed her hands around his neck. Their faces drew near, their foreheads touched. As Aneesa lowered her head, raising her hands to cup his face, there was a sudden crash.

The palace had fallen to the ground, and its light had dimmed.

"Haa!" She instinctively covered her mouth to stifle the scream. Samaira's palace had broken. She knelt down, picking up the shattered pieces. Thankfully, there weren't many. She carefully gathered them and placed them back into the box, then packed the box with Samaira's belongings. All the while, she kept blaming herself for touching Samaira's palace in the first place.

"I don't know why, but whenever the prince is about to kiss me, something or the other happens." A palace was never meant for her. She wasn’t made for such grand things. She could never hold onto a palace, but she was a princess in herself. Truly, every girl is a princess in herself.

The city of poets, Lahore, now dimmed and dead  

The fields where verses bloomed, in flames instead  

She sat at the doorstep, resting her cheek on her knee, looking sad. Omar slowly came and stood beside her, then sat down next to her.

"Are you sad?" Omar asked with a smile. There was no response.

"Are you upset?" Again, there was no answer.

"Is it because Samaira is leaving, or is there some other reason?" Aneesa turned her head to look at him in response to his question.

"Yes, maybe... you could say that." She said after thinking for a moment.

"Is there any other reason?"

"Your wife will come." She stood up to leave, but Omar grabbed her wrist and made her sit back down, although she remained standing.

"I'm not afraid of her," Omar said, looking up at her seriously.

"Why didn’t you take her to Europe with you?" Aneesa asked, pulling her wrist free, but he pulled her down and made her sit with him.

"Because she’s not Aneesa. I would have taken you, but I couldn’t take her."

"Why not?"

"Because you are you. No one can compete with you," he said lovingly.

"You’re a liar, just like before," she said in a sharp tone. "I won’t fall for your words anymore."

"What lie did I tell now? I love only you."

"Lies," she turned her face away.

"That’s why I’m here."

"You came to Lahore for Samaira, to attend her wedding," she said angrily. Omar wiped his face, as if clearing away moisture.

"Why do you ignore me? I call you every day, but you don’t answer even once."

"My phone was lost. Now Kashmala bought me a new one. Even the SIM is new. Now everything is new," she said sadly.

"You are still the same. This city is the same. I am the same. Look, nothing has changed," Omar gestured around.

"Look, Omar! Has nothing really changed?" She folded her knees and turned to look at him. "This Lahore is not the same as before."

"Yes, this Lahore... because when someone is sad, the city loses its vibrance." A voice came from behind, and both of them turned to see Khizar. "When did you first fall in love?" Khizar sat down with them.

"Me?" Aneesa pointed to herself with her finger. Khizar nodded. Her eyes welled up. She remembered. She began to speak, "With my father. I first fell in love with my father. He used to talk to everyone except me. It hurt me when he ignored me. I longed for him to look at me, to give me attention, to talk to me, to smile when he saw me. But..." she smiled bitterly, "The love meant for me was always given to someone else. I kept yearning while someone else received that love without even asking. To this day, that love belongs to someone else. There's still someone who has taken away my share of love without asking." She slowly wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Who is she?" Khizar asked in surprise. Omar looked back and forth between Khizar and Aneesa.

"Lahore. A woman from Lahore. Maybe she was my father’s first love. And perhaps his last too? Maybe, yes."

Omar stood up and left.

"Omar knows about it — that my father has an affair with a girl in Lahore," Aneesa told Khizar mysteriously. Khizar smiled faintly.

"Who is she? Do you know?"

"Yes. Her name is Khushboo. One day my father was talking to her on the phone right in front of me, thinking I didn’t know." She recalled the incident from a few days ago.

"It’s okay. Some men… have affairs," Khizar tried to console her, though his words felt hollow.

"Do you have an affair?" Aneesa looked directly into Khizar’s eyes. He laughed and stood up. Khizar extended his hand towards her.

"Stand up," he smiled. But she stayed seated on the ground. He realized she wanted an answer. "No, I don’t. But there was someone I used to watch from a distance."

"And did you tell Batool?" Aneesa asked, grabbing his hand as she stood.

"Yes, I did. Nothing much, just two slaps and three hits with a stick," he said, and both of them burst into laughter. The scene faded away. The darkness of the night deepened, more stars appeared in the sky, and the stars continued to race across the sky.