GIFS below credit goes to: Himani, Avantika, Priya, Mehak, Usha of http://qubool.tumblr.com/tagged/asya
Part 3
The morning started off with an ominous streak running through the minutes as the old clock in Asad's office grimaced forth, the creaking arms of the old clock ticked away morosely; the time flew so slowly in the lonely and miserable confines of his office. Asad could not concentrate as the only thing that consumed and haunted his heart and his concentration since returning home last night were the images of a shattered Zoya that he had left behind at the farmhouse the other day.
Asad heaved a heavy sigh as he ran his fingers dejectedly along the worn and weathered spine of an old client's file on his desk. He looked listlessly and uninterested at the black print that ran relentlessly along the pages contained within as his mind wandered incessantly ... his thoughts continuously scolded him for his insolence towards Zoya.
"Mr Khan ... woh ... main ... aap ... aur agar hamare beech ... k-kuch ... huwaa bhi hai t-toh ... a-aap bhi ... iss mein-" Zoya's torn and whimpering voice resonated in his mind.
Zoya ... he thought pensively about everything, everything about her haunted him. She was always there for him, always so determined and involved in every little detail about his life whether it came to protecting Najma or protecting his Ammi from harm or standing up against him when he was wrong and supporting him and his family at times of unrest, she truly didn't know where her boundaries were when it came to him.
"Sirf aap ki galti hai ... aap mujhe fasaana chaahti thi ... aaj mujhe tumhari asleeyat samajh mein aayi ... agar aaj ke baad aap mere aas pass dekai bhi dhi ... toh I swear main aap ki jaan le loonga ... "
Asad slammed the old file in his hands shut; he squeezed his eyes closed in remorse recalling his words which played on a loop in his tortured mind. He could not understand what compelled him to say such repulsive words to her about her character and her upbringing as his words agonised him once more ... "you took advantage of the situation ... aap hamesha meri humdardi ka faida oota thi rahi ... aap ko rishton ki koi ahmiyat nahin hai ... iss liye Khuda ne aap ko Ammi nahin di ..." Asad slammed his fist violently hard on his desk as images of a frightened Zoya plagued his mind and mocked his heart thinking about how he pounded his fist callously a few inches away from her frightened face the other day.
His heart wrenched of despair and guilt at the marks he tainted her body with recalling the markings of his lovemaking on her fragile body, the bloodstains on the white bed linen that cried lamentingly of her loss and her surrender to him and how Zoya must have cried herself to sleep last night. She would never let anyone know how much pain he inflicted on her. He truly felt disappointed for it was him who had forgotten all the limits and boundaries, he was a monster.
And he never got the opportunity to say sorry to her in the morning before leaving for work as he had planned too. He had glanced longingly at her closed room door earlier in the morning because he thought he heard her shut the door but he felt it was his imagination running rampantly ... why would she ever want to be in the same room as him after the shower of insults he hurled at her? Asad once again fought his demons as his conscious played havoc ...
Itna kuch keh gayya Zoya ko ... sirf iss liye ... kyun ke main apne feelings ko bas mein nahin kar paa raha hoon ... sirf iss liye kyun ke har din ... ye ehsaas haar kar mujhe Zoya ki taraf khi-che jaa raha hai - mere naa chaahne ke baawajud bhi ... le jaa raha hai ... I'm losing to her? I can't fall in love with her ... I would only break her more
... sirf iss liye maine sharafat ki maryada par kardi ... because she is the combination of everything I fear and desire. She is love, and trust and hope, she is the tender corner in my heart that no one dares to visit. No one, it seems ... besides Miss Zoya Farooqui ...
Maine aisi karwi baatein keh di ... j-jo usse sab se zayada choobengi ... usse dard pounchaaye gi ... I said those things impulsively to hurt her, to push her away ... she doesn't need to be sucked into my problematic world ... kisi aur ka gussa uss pe uttar diya ... kyun baar-baar mujhe lagtaa hai ke main galat hoon ... aur woh ...
woh ... irresponbile si ladki sahi hai ... kyun itni koshishon ke baad bhi ... main apne aap ko Zoya se alaag nahin kar pa raha ...
Kya ho raha hai mujhe ... Zoya ka mujhe pe itna gehra asaar kyun hai ... uss raat ... zindagi mein pehli baar ... pehli baar maine apne saare hadh paar kar diye ... I crossed the limits ... I compelled her to ... to kiss me ...
"Aap ko aap ki hadhein nazar nahin aati ... jab aap mujhe itni na pasand hain ... toh mere khwaabon mein aap ke saaye kyun hai ... kyun meri tanhaiyon mein kalaa dalti hain aap" his own voice jeered at him for being such a hypocrite about his feelings .
Itna sab kuch sunna ne ke baad ... woh kyun mujh se baat karegi ... par main kyun ... usko na dekne ke kayaal se itna bechain ho raha hoon? ... aur agar woh sach mein chali gayyee toh ... " Asad thought deeply about the situation while twiddling with his mobile in his hands contemplating over whether he should call Miss Farooqui.
All Asad wanted to do this morning was to gather her in his arms and kiss her tears and pain away, he didn't know why but he felt a throbbing ache to hold her close to him. Thoughts about her consumed him ferociously. He shrugged himself out of his thoughts as the word kiss crossed his mind but his heart and mind knew no bounds as memories from that night now began to surge from the hollow spot in his mind where he tried so hard to lock away hoping that they would just magically disappear.
"I want you Miss Farooqui ... kiss me ..." Asad's intoxicated but exultant and longing voice echoed in his mind as the vision of their union under the heavy downpour of rain that he had spent many sleepless nights pondering over ... played out explicitly in his mind detailing every aspect of how the night passed in the gazebo, the distant sound of her soft murmurs and moans as he caressed her last night echoed in his mind.
It was all crystal clear to Asad now ... how HE had initiated the entire event regardless of the hazy-stupor that consumed him last night, he perfectly knew well what he was doing. He had let go of all the chains restricting him and fulfilled his one dream that haunted his peaceful slumber for many restless nights. Zoya, he missed everything about her right now in an all-consuming manner but already too much for his own liking. He missed her soft black tresses and her big and ever questioning amber eyes, her ringing laughter and how she scowled with frustration at his OCD tendencies. He missed how he was her distraction mission and how he was her sole subject of complaint, the way she furrowed her nose saying Akdu Ahmed Khan and Jahapanaah-6-packs behind his back when she thought he didn't hear her, he missed being her own personal saviour at times when she was in distress yet he was not there for her when she needed him the most yesterday at the bus accident. He didn't even see her. How blind could he have been?
"Nahin, aur nahin ..." Asad slammed his office desk distraught once more "kya karoon ... kyun koi raasta nahin dikta Zoya se dooor jaane ka? Mujhe Miss Farooqui se alaag hona hi hoga ... uss ki balaayi issi mein hai ke woh jal se jal yahaan se chalee jaayen ... mujhe se dooor chalee jayen"
Asad now paced his office in frustration and pain. A clasp of thunder resonated across the sky and the subsequent lightning now parted its bright menacing glow into the darkness that shrouded Asad's office. His inner battle consumed his working day and he did not register when day had become night. Asad sighed with defeat as he shut off the lights in the corridor exiting his office building before calling it a night and heading home in the torrid downpour. Confusion wreaked havoc on Asad's usually agile brain as he drove home; it made his short drive undeniably slow and painful to bear as the reality of facing Zoya at dinner hit him hard.
His fingers now clenched the steering wheel painfully because there was no way he could make up for the terrible things he had said and done to her. She would forgive him so easily ... eventually like she has always done in the past but he would not and could not find it in him to forgive himself for his actions. He needed to suffer for what he said and did.
Asad walked into his home casually after composing himself to find his Ammi and Najma busy preparing for dinner, they had waited for him to come home after all dinner should be a family event but all Asad could do was cast his aching eyes around the dimly lit kitchen, his eyes numb as he lumbered forward with a heavy heart. His eyes sought only Zoya but she was no-where to be seen.
After minutes that seemed like hours, repetitively glancing - Asad directed his gaze between the clock and then at Zoya's room door like a pendulum realising it was fast approaching 9pm and Zoya still had not shown up for dinner.
"Ammi Zoy- Miss Farooqui kahaan hai, apne room mein?" Asad asked hesitantly as his mother and Najma exchanged looks for they had both agreed to Zoya's wishes not to let Asad know of anything where she was concerned.
"Woh ... Asad why don't you go and get changed I'll make you black coffee?" his Ammi answered trying to divert his attention.
"Ammi aap topic kyun change kar rahi hai? She hasn't shown up for dinner, I haven't seen her all day ... is she out? It's late and she should have been home a long time ago. She is so irresponsible, kisi aur ki fikr nahin hai usse - " Asad seethed in anger.
"Asad woh bechaari toh ..."
"Please Ammi - Khuda ke liye usse bechaari mat kahyen ... " Asad clenched his fists in anger. Where was Miss Farooqui? How could she ... just ignore him ... like nothing had ever happened?
"Accha toh tumhe woh bechaari nahin lagti, everything about her annoys you, you sit here and judge her all the time like everything is always her fault. Tum yeh nahin poochonge ke Tanveer kahaan hai? You should know what Tanve-" his mother reprimanded him throwing her fork down on the plate before her in anger.
"Aap baat ko kahaan se kahaan le jaa rahi Ammi. Tanveer beech mein kahaan se aa gayyee, baat hum Miss Farooqui ki kar rahe hain ... " Asad scowled cutting his Ammi off as he walked over to Zoya's room in a fit of rage.
"Asad -" his Ammi tried to stop him in his tracks, she felt he needed to be informed of what Tanveer did earlier today.
"Miss Farooqui -" Asad roared as he entered the guest room a.k.a Zoya's room to find it cold and void of Zoya. Her suitcases were gone, the room was clear of all her clothes and clutter. The room was unusually quiet, far too quiet and far too clean. He stormed over to the en-suite bathroom, maybe she was in there, irritating him as usual by not answering him, playing hiding seek at this time of the night.
"Bhaijaan ... woh chalee gayyi ... she left this morning shortly after you left for work ..." Najma spoke hesitantly as she cowered in the corner of the guest room waiting for her Bhaijaan to explode.
"Chalee gayyi ... matlab?" Asad questioned nervously, he really did not want to face the answer to his own question now, deep down he already felt the weight of what was to come as his own words roared and scorned him in his mind ... "Miss Farooqui ... I want you to leave me, my house, and my life and go back to New York ..." his own voice mocked him as he launched forward hurling the first thing his hand landed on across the room in anger startling his Ammi and Najma.
"Bewakoof ladki ... har cheez uss ke liye mazaak hai, har rishta uss ke liye ek mazaak hai ..." Asad spoke with clenched fists either side of his livid state as he stormed out of the guest room towards the kitchen.
"Asad par ... hoowa kya hai? I don't understand your misplaced anger? What has she done now? Uss ki galti kya hai?" his Ammi asked in earnest for even she felt something was amiss since they both returned the other night ... separately and both looking distraught.
"Kya hoowa ... kuch bhi toh nahin ... musibat ... ek aur nayee musibat kari kardee uss ne. She -" Asad stammered through his shaky voice as he tried his best at hiding his feelings away from his Ammi, - he averted his sleep-deprived gaze towards the patio ... "-galtiyaan tabhi hoti jab woh aas paas hoti hai. Uss ka phone bhi nahin lag raha ... please don't expect me to go searching for her right now. It's late and she should have informed me before she left, at least text to tell me where she is ... agar ye ghair-zimedara harqat nahin hai toh aur kya hai Ammi. Khuda na kaasta agar usse kuch ho gayya toh ... and her deciding to leave and live elsewhere ... her Aapi and Jeeju will hold us responsible if something happens to her ... aur yahaan meri jaan-" Asad stopped frozen on the spot where he stood. He almost let slip his inner feelings before his mother, Asad sighed pinching his nose bridge trying to calm himself.
"Asad woh chalee gayyi, itni si baat tumhe samajh mein nahin aati. She left for New York in the morning and by now she's probably almost home. She said she would call once she reaches. Kyun gussa ho rahen ho?" his Ammi responded disapprovingly, her heart heavy and numb.
"Accha hoowa woh chalee gayyee ... jis din se woh meri zindagi mein aayi hai ... my life is scattered here, there and everywhere. I spend my entire time consumed with her thoug" -Asad held his tongue once more ... "I spend all my time fixing all the wrongs she does, she is a walking disaster. Woh bina soche samjhe faisle leti hai, she makes all these incoherent decisions because she thinks she is so smart but when the reality to own up to responsibility knocks at her door ... she does what she knows best and that is to run ... run far away ... itni bari baat ho gayyee and Miss Farooqui she's behaving like - jaise kuch hoowa bhi nahin ... jaise usse koi farak nahin parta and Miss Farooqui yahaan se gayyab ho gayyi ... uss ne ek baar ... ek baar bhi mere baareh mein nahin socha ... mujhe bataana zaroori nahin samjha ... mujh pe kya beet rahi hai iss baat se usse koi farak nahin parta ... " Asad grimaced in his own anger, hurt at knowing that Zoya had bid her farewells to all except him.
"Kaun si bari baat ho gayyee? What are you on about Asad? Jab se wapaas aaye ho all you do is moan about how much she annoyed you. Uss ne aisa kya kar diya ke tum itne pareshaan ho , itna naraaz ho? I think you've lost your senses Asad," his Ammi protested but Asad wasn't having any of it.
"Agar woh chalee gayyee hai to accha hua, jis din se aayi thi ek nayee musibat karee kar raheen thi and I don't want to talk about any of this anymore," Asad roared before storming off to him room.
"Asad ... I know why she left," his Ammi blared in a sorrowful voice, her words piercing through the door of his room as he closed the door shut tight and leaned against it in pity. Dilshaad looked with moist eyes and a heavy heart at her son's closed room door. She didn't know the exact reason as to why Zoya left but her instincts grated at her nerves narrating to her that there was more to last night when they returned home than either had let on, that something had changed in Asad, that he was feeling things he had always considered alien to him but he didn't want to acknowledge it ... that he had feelings for Zoya and no matter how hard he tried hiding it Dilshaad could see it. Deep down she knew it was something big and significant because both Asad and Zoya reacted in reckless ways, impatient, hot-headed and impulsive, both shutting her out. She felt burdened at the numbness that grated at her peace of mind ... that feeling of being responsible directly or indirectly for whatever that had happened between Asad and Zoya. Dilshaad and Najma called it a night and went to bed unhappily at the prospect of things falling apart.
Asad Ahmed Khan was scared as he felt his heart sink in his chest at the thought of his loss, he lost her but isn't that what he had wanted all along? He swallowed hard at the fear that formed as a lump in his throat and closed his eyes as tears of fury and self-loathing now relentlessly streamed down his face. Fragmented images of Zoya's tortured face reeled contemptuously before his eyes, and he knew he was a total brute for treating her like that. He took out his mobile phone and with trembling hands he punched her number in fury. He could hope couldn't he? - that she would answer.
He remembered how she had looked when he said those repulsive things to her. He had come so close to punching her while trying to hide and deny his own feelings. Seeing her all bandaged up last night in her room made him want to run after her ... to New York and tell her that he was sorry, and that he was a fool and that it was all real for him even if it didn't occur to her that he cared and it meant everything and that he loved her and only her. He balled his fists in anger as he wanted to punish himself for even thinking of lifting his hand on her the other day. He felt like smashing his fists through the glass pane of his bedroom windows. The grey lines of the rain drizzled resentfully against his window and he slowly raise his furrowed gaze trailing the course of the pitter-patter running down the glass of his window. He looked up at his anguished reflection in the glass of his room window and then he saw her face once again ... but instead of smiles he found her reflection crying uncontrollably her eyes bloodshot staring at him warily, a sense of broken trust and a hollow sense of unexplained loss pierced his heart. He raised his hands anxiously, his movements jerky to touch her ... "Zoya," he whispered deprived of her warmness as his burning hands touched the cold glass of the window.
Her crying eyes now averted their gaze away from his inflamed ones, her voice laced with distrust and a suffering ... echoed in his mind of memories past:
" ... You know what Mr Khan ... hum dono ki aapas mein bilkul nahin banti ... par jab bhi koi problem hoti hai ... toh mere dil mein ek barosa rehta hai ... ke Mr Khan hai ... woh sab teek kardenge ... main aap pe aur aap ki strength pe bahut rely karti hoon ... I trust you with all that I have Mr Khan because you are always there when I need you. And I promise you that whenever you need me I'll be there ... simply close your eyes and say Miss Farooqui is the best three times while hopping on one foot ... nahin nahin" her voice giggled - " ... actually whenever you need me recite my sweet and awesome shayaari with your eyes closed three times - "Ek toh khoobsurat, par adaa nek waali, badi awesome hai yeh Zoya cake wali ... " - and I promise you that you'll find me right in front of you ..." her voice trailed off becoming a distant memory as the rain poured pitilessly, washing away with it her painful reflection bringing forth his torn and confused reflection into view. And just like that she was gone.
Asad staggered back, each step shuddered with broken trust as Asad crashed wearily onto his bed. He broke her down, he broke her unconditional trust that she had placed in him. His stomach stirred with a nauseous feeling, worrying over what Zoya was doing, and what she was going through because of him and only him. He missed her as an aching pang now nurtured his tortured heart, he missed her, and he missed her so much.
His breath came out ragged as he gasped in disbelief at his own doing. His eyes widened staring piercingly into the darkness of his room. He tried to slow his breathing but nothing could stop his eyes from running now. He broke her trust, he wasn't her saviour any more but he was the ardent fool, a monster who broke her down completely ... and in the process he broke down too. He walked over to the drawer and got Zoya's iPad out clutching it hard in his hand wishing he could turn back the hands of time and retract the words he uttered so callously at her. Asad cried himself to sleep clutching her iPad for comfort hoping that this was a nightmare and when he woke up he would find Zoya in the guest room, in her room, in his home in her rightful place.
3 months later ...
It had been three months since Zoya had left Bhopal for New York and she did not care to look back, not even once nor had she ever called except the one time to tell her Phoophi that she had reached New York safely. After that she cut off all chains that tied her to Asad and Khan Villa for that matter and Dilshaad nor Najma ever questioned why because they no longer had that right.
Khan Villa retreated to the stern and austere atmosphere with her unseasonable exit, the house was listless and grim, its walls devoid without her jubilant shayari, her cute giggle and her clutter. Even with the clutter and noise Asad randomly created to fill the void he felt without Zoya's mission of littering his home and then he spent hours cleaning up afterwards did little to pacify his defeated heart as Asad paced the rooms of his home like a visitor in a gallery cherishing each memory somewhat detached, cherishing the memories looking but never touching for fear those memories would break like fragile glass on his mere tender touch. He either spent his time idly at work, or pounding his punching bag aggressively each night or resting miserably in the guest room, Zoya's room. His mother was no stranger to this; she saw her son's existent shrivelled to pieces missing Zoya, she saw how he spent his nights in Zoya's room and how he called New York relentlessly but he never got through to Zoya as her Jeeju always answered consistently that Zoya was either out or at work or in the shower and the excuses simply grew with each call.
It was June, a bitter cold and rainy Sunday in the heart of Bhopal. The sky resembled gunmetal while the rainstorm that brewed would've made the most stoic person in Bhopal dream of sun that stretched on forever. But not Asad, he didn't feel the need for sun as the flashing blue of the lightning that surged across the gloomy sky caressed his weary eyes as he staggered off the bed to the washroom in Zoya's room reluctantly to face yet another day without her.
The hot water hit his face relentlessly as he showered snapping him out of his dream-induced fog. Drying his face with a washcloth Asad examined his face in the mirror. Really, he looked dreadful. He hadn't had a full-night's sleep in months. He pacified himself that it was just a dream - a bad dream ... it couldn't be anything else and he would wake up soon and everything would be normal again. After dressing, Asad stumbled his way back to the bed, with Zoya's iPad in his hand; he shifted under the covers, his body turned away from the early rays of daylight that now caressed the room and he finally switched the iPad on only to be greeted by some weird password filter screen and nothing like the password he recalled when Zoya baked a cake for his Ammi.
He smiled ruefully recalling that day when she had baked his Ammi a cake to lift her mood. Zoya always said and did the right things and he had never realised it till now of how wrong he had been about her. Had he taken a moment to take in all that she was, he would've saved himself a great deal of heartache. He let out a low giggle as he continued staring at the password prompt screen, its prompt question completely different to the one Zoya use to have as he conjured an image of a messy and flour drenched Zoya standing over her propped-up iPad on the kitchen island to find a recipe for chocolate frosting. Her sweet and vivacious words reverberated in his mind: " ...uh-oh ... yeh toh sleep mode mein chala gayya ... ek minute wait ... " and then the oddest thing had happened as he and his Ammi witnessed the craziest password played out before them "la, la-la-la, la ... la, la-la-la, la ... hai na mera password kamaal ka Phoophi" her voice giggled in his mind.
A lone tear fell from his eyes as the password prompt question now mocked him. Why did he think she was annoying then? Why couldn't he see how she had helped to bring joy to his Ammi at her darkest moment of despair? She was right. He had been too judgmental. And now everything was over as the password question blazed angrily on the screen, the password question caused him distress.
Her new password read: Who is the one person I love and I hate the most? Asad smiled ruefully at the question, his heart skipped a beat for he knew who Zoya hated the most, him and no other. Whether she loved him or not was a question that remained unanswered.
The question was left hanging in the air. Asad still remembered when every once in a while their eyes would meet and he could see the same question lingering in her eyes. He always turned away before he could ever surrender to her, as did she and the question was left in the air, unspoken, uncared for and silent.
Asad tried a number of combinations of all the nicknames she kept for him which could be the password to her iPad, he typed in the last combination but the screen went blank and sighing in defeat Asad placed the now switched on iPad on the side table. He didn't know why before this it never occurred to him to review what was stored in her iPad all this time. All those months of brooding in silence made him feel on edge that he forgot to check the iPad.
He sighed and stared out of the window into the grey and green that blurred as the day outside zoomed past the window. The colours split and spread into each other against the afternoon rain. He drifted his eyes to the empty bench outside where he and Zoya would spend evenings having coffee when either of them were troubled and could not sleep. The bench, wet with rain remained stone face still and confident, similar to an image of Zoya that spun in Asad's mind several times these past few days.
Reaching into his top shirt pocket, his fingers found his wallet and pulled out a photograph that always rested inside his wallet. He ignored his own face in the photo only to place his yearning gaze at the bright smile of the girl beside him; it was in black and white and frozen in time. It was photo taken 4 months ago at a family mehndi function. Zoya had decked herself in a beautiful saree and insisted they take a photo together with Najma and Phoophi. She wanted souvenirs, sweet tokens of her time in Bhopal in the form of photos to take home to NY. Asad smiled recalling how Zoya had pulled him and forced him to take a picture with them, rubbing mehndi all over his clean and white kurta. He cringed recalling the smell of mehndi. Zoya's bright smile and mehndi decorated hands stood out in the picture, as did her hands waving frantically before an annoyed Asad while Najma and his Ammi smiled delighted at their usual banter. The photo was picture-perfect, awkward but perfect. His misfit, fit perfectly into his family but he was too late at realising this.
A pang of pain pricked his heart and his fingers gripped the photo tighter. Asad remembered the times when Zoya intruded his room when he needed to sort out his thoughts. When he did not know what decision to make or what direction he should choose, he would confide in her to ease his confusion and uncertainty. As per the norm, she provided impulsive and aggressive answers with a gusto that generally amused him, but there were those rare times when she did truly listen and assured him he would make the right choice. He always felt more confident afterward, knowing she supported him.
Asad could no longer turn to her though; he certainly made sure of that. The moments of his repulsive behaviour at the farmhouse kept replaying over and over again in his mind. The screams, her cowering and fragile body, his harsh words, her tears always shook him to his core, even today. Asad knew why he resorted to that level that day and he felt he had every right to do so, but he was no longer sure if it was worth the loneliness and the regret he kept feeling without her. It had been days since he saw her, since he even heard a word about her, and it began to take a toll on his resolve. He missed her. He could not deny it any longer.
Sighing heavily again, he stuffed the photo back into the wallet and placed it in the pocket over his heart, in its rightful place. With one last glance at the rain drizzling miserably against the window, he got off the bed to make his way to his room to punch his resentment away.
Through the clatter of the rain and thunder that saturated the room, a small pinging noise penetrated the frenzied air alerting Asad's somewhat dull and dismal senses as he turned on his feet to look at the iPad which was blinking unremittingly, a message, an email had just arrived.
Asad's tired eye's widened in disbelief, and his breath hitched in his throat, his heart leaping a million times in his chest as he walked nervously over to the side table to pick up the iPad. A small flicker of hope began to caress his numb eyes. He scrolled across the screen with jerky movements as he opened an email from an unknown sender ... a sender by the name of Nargis. He read the email with great concentration, his heart sinking as he took each word in. It wasn't making any sense at first; his agitated mind could not understand what this Nargis was on about but as he continued to read a whole new reality dawned upon him. He read the last line and with that he dropped the iPad, its crash landing cushioned by the noise of a loud clasp of thunder that erupted angrily across the sky, the room blanched by the bright blue flashes of lightning. Asad now confused and broken seethed in anger. Asad impulsively slammed his hand into the window as the words from the email blazed on loop in his mind's eye ...
Nargis's email to Zoya read:
"Hi Zoya,
URGENT: Please call me as soon as you get this email.
I don't know if you have your iPad or laptop with you still. I am so worried about you, called you a million times yesterday and all this morning, can't even reach you on your mobile or landline.
Tum Bhopal mein hi ho naa? Or have you tired yourself and called it quits - left for NY? Is everything ok?
Tumhari fikr ho rahi hai ... and I am in Delhi ... aur wahaan you're all alone ... I think you should confide in someone until I can join you. Ammi and Abu ko iss baat ki khabar nahin hai ... don't know how they will react ... but you need to break your silence ... possibly tell your Phoophi ... tell her everything? ... and jerk-face-6-packs needs a reality check ... tumhari iss halaat ki wajaa bas woh hi toh hai ... and please time to time mujhe phone karti rehna.
How are the regular checks going? Nothing wrong with you or the baby? I can't believe you're 3 months pregnant. Dr Mirza lives next door and if you need anything just ask her, she told me that you haven't been well lately. Tum teek toh ho na?
Khair, call me as soon as you get this & all the other voicemails I have left on your mobile babes, Love Nargis"
The thunderous sound of the window breaking resonated through the house. An alarmed Dilshaad came running to the guest room her heart sank seeing her distressed son staring in pain out of the window.
"Kya hoowa Asad?" his Ammi asked terrified looking at the broken glass and blood smeared across the floor.
Asad's eyes widened and his nostrils flared; his temper heightened then evaporated to be replaced by excruciating pain.
"Joot ... sab joot, joot bhola ta ... uss ne hum sab se joot bhola ... she lied ... " Asad spoke with gritted teeth. The fragments of Asad's life were lying at his feet, glittering under the flash of the lightning streaking across the room and on the broken glass. His hand bled menacingly as blood pooled on the floor and tears spilled down his cheeks, his jaw clenched in agony. Damn it, he didn't understand where to begin from, how was he going to explain this tangled mess to his Ammi? Somehow Asad had managed to shut out the truth all this time. But the disappointment and the sadness tasted so bitter. After everything his Ammi had been through, after all those years of problems she faced all alone, he felt burdened in trying to explain this one to her only to add to all those disappointments.
"Uss ne? Kis ki baat kar rahe ho tum? And how childish of you ... you are bleeding, tumhara khoon beh raha hai ... " Dilshaad reprimanded her son as she pulled his bleeding hand to bandage it with her dupatta.
"Woh ... abhi bhi Bhopal mein hai ..." Asad stuttered, his throat dry as he clenched his bleeding hand tighter increasing his pain before slamming his wounded fist into the window pane once again.
"Asad ... khud ko takleef dekhar ... tum kya hasil karna chaahte ho? Ye sazaa tum khud ko nahin de rahe ho ... mujhe de rahe ho ... tumhara zakhm taaza hai ... please Khuda ke liye don't hurt yourself any more, I can't bear to see you like this ..." his Ammi pleaded sincerely.
"Iss-si baat ka toh abhsos hai Ammi, I regret everything ... 3 months later and these wounds are still fresh ..." Asad spoke in riddles confusing his Ammi.
"Main iss zakhm ki baat kar rahi hoon jo tumhe aaj laga hai," Dilshaad contested.
"Aur main uss zakhm ki baat kar raha hoon jo Zoya ne diya hai ... mujh se ye baat chuppa kar, uss raat ki baat kar raha hoon ... woh khubsoorat si raat jo maine boolne ki bahut koshish ki par kambaqt ye dil mujhe chain se jeene nahin deta ...
... main uss subah ki baat kar raha ... jab bina soche samjhe ... main kuch zayaada hi bhol gayya ... aur phir woh chalee gayyee ... mujhe bina bataaye ... jaise usse koi farak nahin padta " Asad spoke with resentment as he strode out bitterly from the room to collect his car keys. He was going to locate Zoya today and today starting with deciphering the emails in the sent folder of Zoya's email account, Asad would locate this villa she's renting. Feeling empty and shaken, Asad grabbed his jacket, his car keys and stumbled through the front door disappearing into the rain that poured triumphantly.
Dilshaad watched Asad's 4-by-4 disappear into the distant. She noted how Asad's voice had lost its edge. He sounded weak and strangled for words and weak was the last adjective that would have ever come to her mind at the subject of her son. When had Asad adopted those puppy eyes? When did his life become so dismal?
"Mujhe pataa hai kuch na kuch toh zaroor hoowa hai Asad, otherwise she wouldn't have left impulsively after that night and you wouldn't have been living like a recluse these past few months. Kya tum Zoya se mohabbat karte ho? I'll get my answers from you and Zoya when you both come home later on, aur uss raat hoowa kya ta exactly, yeh mere liye jaan na bahut zaroori hai" Dilshaad promised herself wiping her tears away.
In his 4-by-4 Asad slammed his already bleeding and bruised fist on the steering wheel. He felt utterly appalled for he was a man of dignity and he was always righteous in his actions but his actions towards Zoya were reckless, - he was negligent of her needs. His restraint and tenuous reservations, his fears of hurting her, of betraying her and feelings of his unresolved past issues with his father and his misplaced anger made him doubt his love for her and it made Zoya doubt herself, pushing her away breaking her trust in him and she left.
" ... par jab bhi koi problem hoti hai ... toh mere dil mein ek barosa rehta hai ... ke Mr Khan hai ... woh sab teek kardenge ..." Zoya's voice echoed in Asad's mind as he drove through the thunderstorm.
Asad began dialling Zoya's mobile number hastily while he drove in a scurry across the wet terrain. "Please Zoya, pick up the phone, mujhe tumse baat karni hai ... I have to rectify all my wrongs ... main sab kuch teek kar doonga ... sab kuch pehle jaisa ho jaaye ga, I am here, I'm right here, I promise aur iss baar main aap ka barosa kabhi nahin todh-roonga," Asad vocalised his distress and his pledge to keep her safe, always and forever as he drove in a panic-stricken frenzy along the wet tarmac, his urgency to reach her was critical. His mind was troubled by the email sent by Nargis. Was Zoya safe and well? Asad figured out that the villa was located in the Shamla Hills area of Bhopal but he had his work cut out to locate the exact villa because none of the emails had any specific house number details included in its content.
The rain lashed down unrestrained against the windshield of Asad's 4-by-4 as the storm picked up speed, as he drove down a deserted one lane uneven highway. He drove over the speed limit in a rush, his concern and love for Zoya drove him forward. Asad's tyres slipped on the wet slippery tarmac but he held the steering wheels tightly to keep his 4-by-4 steady as day now turned to night. He needed to get to Zoya. It was pitch black outside, no stars danced in the somber velvet of the night sky, and the only light came from the moon's dull light, the intermittent flashes of lightning and a few small square orange lights that lined the road which made the course of the road visible to drivers.
The rain lashed against the windshield with a vehemence of a cloudburst but all Asad could see with each wiping stir of the windscreen wipers was a reeling and disintegrating montage of Zoya's virtuous face as her expressions alternated from anger, to sadness, to a smile. His thoughts were rampant as he recalled the first and the last time he saw her. The flicker of light he saw in her at first glance transformed and evolved as he began to get closer to her all those months ago, into a tenacious flame and then that one night everything changed. Would she forgive him? Would he have the chance to take her to his bed every night and hold her in his arms again? Would he taste her sweet lips again? Would she let him hand her all that the world has to offer on a silver platter? His mind played out a number of possible ways of making amends as he drove onwards in the rain.
The rain continued to pour down in torrents, blurring Asad's already moist and clouded vision even more. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth over the window, attempting to clear away the large droplets clinging to the glass of the windshield - but it seemed the wipers weren't moving fast enough and in that moment two blinding headlights blazed angrily through the impenetrable darkness as a car in the opposite direction approached towards Asad on the one lane he was driving on and in no time Asad's 4-by-4 manoeuvred dangerously as he had no room to veer either right or left to safely get out of the oncoming vehicle's way. He slammed the brakes hard as his 4-by-4 screeched and skidded onto a wet pebble lined pavement, the collision breaking the immense silence that had been pressing in on Asad all night.
Under the faint glow of the lamp-post and cascading rain Asad registered his 4-by-4 had croaked its last gasp as the engine fell silent and smoke billowed from the bonnet. In a haste he got out to see the damage, he lifted the bonnet but his attention was diverted to the creaking sound of a door being opened. He stood frozen as he registered the face that stood at the patio door. His amber eyes widened and his breath hitched in his throat at what he saw. Asad felt his heart leap into his throat. Was he dreaming? He saw her breathing unevenly at the patio, her hands clutching the bannister in fear as she looked on at him in the dark.
Asad squinted with dedication in the rain blinking his eyes several times as his eyes glowed in the darkness recognising her face. Her words came echoing back to him " ... main kisi ka bhi katal kar sakti hoon apne dimple se ... main bhi aap ko bahut pasand karti hoon ... " her voice reverberated in his mind as he began taking steps towards her, shocked for he never thought he would see her again. Asad's clenched fists at his sides now began to relax and he let go of his fear that held him back as he took the first step towards Zoya.
Her voice echoed once more in his mind, "Mr Khan aap ke dil mein seena nahi pathaar hai" as he smiled ruefully until he stopped on the pebble stair just below her, the lightning flashing repentantly as the two now came face to face 3 months later. Looking up at him in disbelief Zoya could now see his features clearly under the flashing glow of the lightning. His eyes were magnificent as ever and she felt like she was drowning once more as she looked into his dark apologetic and questioning orbs. Her gaze travelled looking over each curve of his defined face which jeered at her heart, she was still hurt.
His eyes searched her tearful doe eyes as Zoya backed up against the bannister near the entrance of the villa gasping for air. He stepped up the pebble stone stair once more backing Zoya into the corner, her mind racing as she felt trapped, her eyes searched his face as the lightning struck once more and from the glow it parted she saw his features, drenched in rain he look incredibly hot and flawless. There was a light stubble dotted across his jaw, the questioning deep brown eyes set under the dark furrow of eyebrows which made her feel mesmerised but trapped once more. The hollow feeling from the past came back to her as she let out a gasp "Asad."
Asad stared down at Zoya as he came face to face, his smile apologetic as his eyes willed for her to answer him and ease his pining. He had no clue where she disappeared to 3 months ago. But now relief surged in his chest on finding her, she was safe.
Asad reached his rain drenched right hand up to touch her face to make sure she was real, that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination. A shudder ran through her as his warm hand settled against her pale and cold cheek. He let out a small gasp, "Zoya ..." his voiced cracked and his eyes burned as the reality hit him hard - she was there. Asad closed his eyes and smiled looking at the heavens for finding her.
The rain lashed down unrestrained and the dark sky rumbled once more with the thunder and lightning that followed blanched the terrain white as Asad shot forwards on seeing Zoya losing conscious, unsteady on her feet she was losing her balance and before she knew it her world give way to darkness. Guilt started rushing back to Asad when he realised he should have been there with her to protect her all this time from the dreaded day he abandoned her in his folly at the farmhouse, the bus accident and everything that followed after that ... but no it was her self-respect and his stubbornness that he allowed her to face it alone so that he could maintain his pride while she suffered all alone. Vulnerable and weak.
Every vein in Asad's body froze. He swore his heart stopped beating for a moment. No. She couldn't possibly have ... "Zoya ... Zoya utho ... utho please wake up ... Zoya mujh se baat karo, scream at me ... fight with me ... but don't do this to me ... don't leave me ... dekho na main sab kuch teek kar doonga ... I promise ... Zoya ... " Asad roared into the darkness of the night, tears streaming down his taut features.
His own body began to quiver as he pulled her limp and unconscious body into his lap and cradled her firmly in his warm arms. "Zoya?" Asad caressed her face with his quivering hands; he could now no longer speak above a whisper. "Don't do this, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Asad's world crashed around him with a deafening silence and it pressed in on him, making it hard for him to breathe, hard for him to think as he watched his Zoya, his one true love descending further into the realms of unconsciousness.
oOo
ooo End of Flashback ooo
End of Part 3
© Fatima B Lunat 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Fatima B Lunat.
No comments:
Post a Comment