Author: writerbyheart01
Published: 13/09/24
Autumn, with its crisp air and fading warmth, often mirrors the emotions of love and longing. The season's golden leaves, falling softly to the ground, evoke a sense of beauty and impermanence, much like love that blooms brightly before it begins to fade. The cool winds of autumn carry with them a quiet ache, reminding us of the bittersweetness of separation and yearning. In its stillness, the season holds both the warmth of cherished moments and the chill of distance. The another season of life
Chapter 33
Aisha was surprised to see wetness in Danish's eyes as he left. What could be the reason behind his sadness? She wanted to know but couldn't because of her reserved nature. She hated nosy people and she didn't want to become one. After completing some household chores she came to the dining table. This emptiness was killing her but she had to deal with it. Picking her mobile she sat down on the chair where Danish was sitting some minutes ago and suddenly her eyes fell on a mobile phone.
“Oh no,” she muttered. “He forgot it.” She looked at the clock which was showing late at night. She found it unsuitable to knock on a man's door at this point of night. Curiosity hit her hard, picking up Danish's mobile she saw his wallpaper which was showing Fayra's pic. A pic in which Danish was sitting on a chair and Fayra was standing beside him resting her elbow on his shoulder. They both looked extremely Happy.
“Mashallah.” She muttered but her smile got lost somewhere. Placing down the mobile she rested her arm on the tabletop and drew out a breath. ‘Kuch logo ko zindagi mein sab kuch kitni asani se mil jata hai… aur kuch log basic needs and wishes k liye bhi tadapte rehte hain.’ putting her head down on the arm she muttered. For her, Danish's life was easy. He had a great family, he got the love of his grandparents, parents, uncle and aunts, siblings and he had a loving wife too. On the other hand she had been craving for each of them.
(Some people get everything in life so easily... and some people keep yearning for even basic needs and wishes.)
Glancing at Danish's mobile wallpaper one more time she closed her eyes and tears appeared in her eyes as she remembered the past. She was extremely happy after her engagement. The sweet phase of her life. Those midnight chats, those small gifts sent by him but… everything ended on a bitter note. When she needed him the most he took a step away. He could have waited for a few more months. He could understand her but…
‘It was destined to happen.’ she reasoned everything in the easiest way possible but is it so simple to forget everything?
Grief, sorrow, and some unnamed pain embraced her one more time. This empty home was looking more than a punishment. Was Danish correct? Should she get married? But with whom? She didn't know.
Gulping a pill with water she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Unfulfilled wishes mingled with memories, tears blended with pains and the broken dreams met with slumber. While remembering old memories she was completely engulfed in the arms of slumber however the rest was short lived because an unpleasant sound woke her up. She picked the call in a half sleeping state
“Hello.”
Who are you? Where is Danish?” she looked up at her mobile phone, eyes half closed half open. Everything was blurry, all thanks to the sleeping pill.
‘Who is this girl? Do I know her?’ Aisha asked herself and her sleepy brain said, ‘Hell with everyone, go back to sleep now.’
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An eight year old Fayra woke up in the middle of the night. She looked at both sides. Her parents were sleeping peacefully. Pushing away her curly hair from her face she sat down on the bed and gulped fearfully. The door of the bedroom was locked but the glass window reflected a shadow. Someone was outside the room.
“Papa.” She shook Adnaan's arm but he turned his side without letting his slumber slip away.
The little girl thought to wake her mother up but then a wave of bravery hit her hard. With cat steps she stepped out of the bed, walked towards the door and slowly peeped out of it.
Someone was present in the hall, a tall figure, enveloped in a long coat, face hidden in a monkey cap or maybe muffler and a woolen cap. She couldn't see it clearly because of the dim light.
She looked everywhere but found nothing other than a baseball bat which was bought by Danish but played by no one and now resting in the corner of Adnaan's bedroom.
“Aaj nhi chhodungi bachhu… choor kahi ke.” gripping the bat tightly she walked out of the room, slowly but steadily. The muscular figure was walking with slow steps, he was facing towards the kitchen door, his back facing Fayra.
(I won't leave you today. Bloody thief.)
She took a deep breath, gripped the bat more strongly and ran towards the mysterious figure. At the same moment he felt some kind of movement behind himself but before he could turn to see it, suddenly something hit hard on his back. His breath hitched, a painful scream died on his lips, the book he was holding in his hand slipped away due to the backstab.
“Mere ghar me chori karne ki himmat kese huy…” she was saying with full of anger and bravery when her voice turned off as the so called thief looked back towards the Jhansi ki Rani, uff… Rizwi Mansion ki Rani. Fayra gasped, the bat slipped down from her hands. All her bravery evaporated and vanished into thin air as soon as her brown eyes came into the contact of a pair of hazel eyes which was now turning red due to anger.
(How dare you steal from my hou…)
“Danish bhai aap?” She was shocked, same as the fifteen year old Danish. He wasn't ready for this attack when he was studying in his own home for his pre-board exams. “Mujhe laga choor hai.”
(You? I thought it's a thief.)
“Ruk jaa, Fayra ki bachhi.” He came back to his complete senses and Fayra ran towards the room but Danish was fast to grab her shift from the back collar.
(Fayra, now see what I do with you.)
“Danish bhai sorry, please sorry. Sorry … sorry. Please sorry.” she was joining her hands in front of Danish, still trying to run away but he was holding her from the back part of her shirt, she couldn't move.
“Pagal wagal ho kya? Adhi Raat ko choor police khelne ka dil chah rha tha?” He asked with anger. Voice still hushed. The scared Fayra stopped her failed attempt to run and turned to see the one who was holding her by her shirt.
(Are you mad? Did you feel like playing cops and thieves at midnight?)
“Just a second.” The chubby potato freed herself, adjusted her shirt and glared at Danish, lips pursed, brown furrowed and arms wrapped on chest. “You're blaming me? I was performing my duty to safeguard my home, what are you doing here in these clothes? It was your fault.”
Danish looked at himself, he was wearing his grandfather’s long coat to protect himself from this chilling cold of December, but it didn't make him culprit. He picked up his book from the floor, glared at Fayra followed by a good hit at her head.
“Tumhari tarha nhi hu, pade pade khaate raho aur soote raho, padhai kar rha tha main.” He jerked his head and Fayra huffed. How dare he taunt her about her appetite? But he was Danish, her glares did nothing to him. “Ek baat to batao, tumhare kaan par to koi band bhi baja de tum tab bhi nhi uthti, raat ke is waqt kese uth gyi?” He furrowed and asked which softened Fayra's angry expressions.
(I'm not like who eats and sleeps all the time. I was studying.)
(Tell me one thing, even if someone plays a band on your ears, you still don't wake up. How did you wake up at this time of the night?)
“Bhuk lag rhi thi.” She pouted. Frustration and hunger mingled together to show a fake anger.
(I was hungry.)
“Bhuk to mujhe bhi lag rhi hai.” Forgetting everything Danish muttered and Fayra smiled happily.
(I'm also hungry.)
“Wanna eat maggi?” She asked happily and Danish nodded with the same enthusiasm.
“Sure.”
“To jaiye aur hum dono ke liye banaiye, mujhe aese kyu dekh rhe hain?” Fayra raised her brows while questioning and Danish huffed.
(So go and make it for both of us, why are you looking at me like this?)
“Khud bana lo,” he turned back and resumed walking. It was his habit to walk continuously while learning a topic. Fayra was still standing with puffed cheeks but the very next moment she walked near him and held his coat.
(Make it yourself.)
“Danish bhai, main to chhoti hu na.” She pouted. Danish glared at her and walked ahead, for a moment she thought he was resuming his studies but he walked into the kitchen, Fayra jumped happily and followed him. Placing the book on the counter top he was opening two packets of Maggi.
(But Danish Bhai, I am so young. Right?)
“Chor pakadne ke liye chhoti nhi ho? Maggi banane ke liye chhoti ho. Shabash.” He was angry but she pouted, placing her both hands on the countertop she tip-toed to watch the noodles in making.
(Aren't you too young to catch the thief?)
Dividing maggi in two unequal parts Danish gave the smaller portion to her and they both sat down in the kitchen only. Fayra was sitting on the countertop while he was sitting on a chair and his bowl of noodles was resting on the countertop. Fayra took a fork full of noodles from his bowl to get his angry look but she shrugged.
“Your portion was bigger, so I made it equal.” he just glared at her, but In reality he knew, this girl would take a big bite from his share.
“Why are you wearing this coat?” She Asked with curiosity.
“Because I want to become like dada abbu.” He smiled proudly but Fayra was unable to understand it, she pulled a face, her nose clenched, brows furrowed and she looked at Danish from head to toe.
“Kisi ke purane kapde pehenne se is jese ban jaate hain?” Though her question was valid, he huffed.
(By wearing someone's old clothes do you become like this?)
“Go and sleep.” He pointed towards the door and she walked out after finishing the noodles. Danish put the bowls in the sink when felt someone's presence behind him.
“Is baar kya sar par marogi?” he asked while cleaning all the evidence of their midnight brunch because their parents would scold them next morning for skipping home cooked dinner and having junk at night.
(Will you hit on the head this time?)
“Danish bhai.” She held the edge of his coat, he looked at her who was showing an innocent face. “I'm sorry.” Holding her both ears she pouted. Danish kept his eyes on her face, hands never stopping doing dishes. “Zoor se lagi thi kya?” she asked. Guilty. Hands still holding her ears.
(Did it hurt hard?)
“Hmm…. Too hard.” He lied. All thanks to the thick coat which protected his back. Her brown eyes were showing the shine of guilt. At least Danish felt it but the very next moment…
“Galti bhi aapki hi thi…” and she walked away after shrugging. Danish was gawking at this little girl as she walked away rolling her eyes but she came back after some five minutes holding a small box of snacks
(It was only and only your fault.)
“Have it.” She passed it to him and Danish smiled.
“Thank you, now go and sleep.”
“Sorry.” She again held her ears
“Idiot.” He muttered with a smile and softly pinched her cheek but she gasped.
“Your hands are so cold…” and she ran back to her room.
Something unknown pulled her out from the past and she looked at the bowl of noodles present in front of her. All those sweet memories were lost somewhere once Arsh came to her life but as soon as he was gone everything started feeling lighter than before.
She didn't realise but Arsh was the darker side of her life.
When he stepped in, things turned complicated. It was difficult for her to understand in the beginning that Arsh was nothing but a headache. Staying awake the whole night just to talk to him or to wait for his call wasn't romantic but pathetic. Handling his anger and bringing him around wasn't a sign of love and care but his dominance. Stressing herself to be fit on his scale wasn't necessary but it was a pressure. Among all these things she gradually forgot her true self, eventually she forgot Danish too. And now, when Arsh's reality was exposed she was feeling disgusted even with his thoughts and name.
Now her mind was free to focus on herself, her life, her family and some important people. And now, Danish was the only person whom she was remembering too much because she was harsh with him without any of his fault.
Looking at the bowl of noodles she smiled while remembering their childhood.
Picking up the bowl she walked back towards her bedroom, “Fayra.” She suddenly turned back after hearing Danish's voice but closed her eyes for a moment. His room was locked. No Danish was there.
Was she really missing him?
She locked the room and picked up her mobile phone before dialling Danish's number. Once it rang but no one picked the call.
“Maybe he is sleeping. She tried not to call him again but somehow her fingers ditched this decision of hers. Soon she heard the ring agar followed by a sleepy ‘Hello’
Fayra was confused for a moment, removing her mobile phone from her ear. It was flashing Danish's name on the screen. Who picked the call? A girl? Who was this girl? And what was she doing with Danish?
“Who are you? Where is Danish?”
“Wrong number.” The sleepy girl muttered from the other side.
“He is with a girl at this time? This girl was sleeping… is he also.. sleeping? Are they both together?” She muttered looking at the mobile phone. All her feelings converted into anger. It wasn't jealousy but anger.
“Sare mard ek jese hote hain. Jab tak unki sachhai samne na aaye tab tak hi ye log shareef dikhte hain.” she laid back leaving the noodles untouched.
(All men are the same. They appear decent until their truth is revealed.)
Throwing her mobile phone on the pillow she closed her eyes to sleep but couldn't.
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He was standing outside her college, resting his back with his black SUV. Glasses covered his eyes, but couldn't hide his evil gaze. “I was missing you so I thought of paying a visit.” he said with a smirk and She glared at him.
“Stop playing with my feelings.” She walked ahead.
“I'm not.” He grabbed her hand but today something unexpected happened. Turning with a jolt she slapped his face. Arsh was shocked. How could this fragile hand slap with this amount of energy? He felt a pinching pain under his skin.
“Aaj ke baad mere raaste me aane ki koshish bhi na karna, balki sochna bhi mat. Aur rhi baat un photos ki, to dikha do jise dikhane hain. Main nhi darti.” Looking directly in his eyes she uttered each and every word clearly. She wasn't the timid and weak Fayra, she was looking like someone else. Someone more confident. Someone more powerful. Someone more enraged. Perhaps, she was angry but with whom? With Arsh or wish Danish?
(From today onwards, don't try to cross my path, don't even think about it. And as far as those photos are concerned, show them to whoever you want. I am not afraid.)
This drastic change wasn't a miracle, it was the result of heartbreak. She was heartbroken and this time the pain was doubled. First, she was heartbroken when she watched Arsh with a random girl. On one side he was claiming to still love her and wanted to get married to her but on the other side he was putting off the fire of lust publically. Secondly, Danish, who was already married to her, was with another girl in the middle of night.
“Fayra, darling, Danish is manipulating you. He was the one…”
“Shut up.” She shouted. “Just shut up! I won't listen to a single word against Danish. Not him but you have been manipulating me. But enough is enough!” She walked ahead after throwing a glare at him but stopped after taking a few steps.
“Hell with everyone,” she muttered while walking ahead but stopped for a moment and turned towards him.
“I won't hesitate to contact your father if you dare to come here again… and you also know what will happen if our families get involved in this matter. This is not a threat but a warning. Mind my words.” and she walked away.
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