Chapter 36

Eyes burning due to fever.

The head was spinning and bursting with pain. 

Vision was blurry and the whole body was shivering. 

Two blankets together were unable to make her feel cosy. 

Even after curling up into a ball she failed to provide warmth to her body.

“Ammi Baba… mujhe bhi bula lijiye apne paas, main akele kese rahi?” She cried out helplessly. But she didn't know the actual reason behind her tears. Was it loneliness or her health? 

(Amma Baba… please call me too, how will I live alone?)

For the last half an hour she was trying to go to the kitchen to make noodles so that she could have medicine but each and every bone of her body was hurting like hell. The doorbell rang one more time. She tried to stand up but couldn't. For the last hour, someone was ringing the doorbell with the gap of fifteen minutes. However, she didn't know that this person had been coming for the last five hours, but she was not only sleeping, but was lying in the bed almost unconscious. She again tried to pull herself out of the bed but her eyes again shut down and she slept. But the slumber was short-lived. Her ringing mobile forced her to open her eyes followed by a chain of ringing doorbells. 

Collecting all her energy she managed to put her legs out of the bed. Holding back her eyelids was the most difficult task right now and she walked towards the main door while holding walls and furniture because standing still was impossible due to dizziness and weakness. She took a whole minute to read the door. The bell was still ringing in a chain and her mobile was still ringing somewhere in the bedroom. 

“Aisha why aren't you…” as soon as he unlocked the door she heard this voice but when she opened the door Danish was stunned. 

For the first time he was seeing this girl without a covered head. Her hair was messy, eyes and face was puffed and red.

He came in the afternoon with some official work and rang the bell a few times but when got no response he thought that maybe either Aisha was in between her namaz or maybe in the bathroom. So he went back but after making many calls and banging the door he got no response, his heart clenched with an unnamed fear. 

“What happened to you?” he asked. Aisha tried to say something but her voice didn't come out. Danish lifted his hand towards her forehead and hesitated for a moment but touched it with the back of his fingers. She was burning with fever. 

“Tumne kuch khaya? Medicine li?" He asked but right now Aisha cried out helplessly. She was still standing with the support of the wall. How could she cook for herself and take medicine? 

(Did you eat anything? Did you take your medicine?)

“Don't cry. Let's go inside." Danish made his way inside the home and locked the door behind himself. Aisha walked towards the sofa with the support of the wall and Danish went to the kitchen in a hurry, before he could pick the glass of water a loud thud echoed in the home. 

“Aisha." He was shocked to see her lying on the floor. Maybe due to dizziness she lost her balance or maybe due to high fever she lost her consciousness.

<><><>

When she opened her eyes, she was already in her bed, covered with a blanket but hands and feet were uncovered. Something wet and cold was present on her forehead. She touched it slowly to find a wet cloth. Now, her fever was a bit less than before but chills were still making her shiver. She covered her feet and hand, removed the wet clothes from her forehead and closed her eyes.

Danish entered the room with a fresh bowl of cold water and sat down beside her making a good distance between them. 

He wet the cloth, placed it on her forehead and slowly uncovered her feet. Aisha woke up with a jolt. She was scared to see Danish too close to herself, now she remembered that she fell down in the hall. It wasn't difficult to understand how she came here.

“I called a doctor, she refused to give you an injection because you're empty. This was the only way to refuse your fever. Now eat something and take medicine.” He didn't make eye contact just changed the damp cloth with another cloth.

Aisha kept watching this man. She was praying either for death or for a reason to live because now she was feeling all alone in this world. 

But here comes Danish… who was already someone's husband. 

“Danish." She tried to say but only her lips moved, he stopped changing the damp cloth for a moment and looked at her. 

“Hmm…”

“You go home, I'm fine." 

"I can see how fine you're.” He muttered without looking towards her but Aisha's lips pursed, she kept watching him and cried out. He was the only support present in her life. 

“I'm bringing something to eat. Okay?" He stepped away from the bed and Aisha wiped her tears.

After some ten minutes he again stepped in the room with a bowl of daal and rice. He didn't know how to cook anything else perfectly other than daal rice and mix-veg pulao, so he cooked one of them. 

After a long starvation, Aisha had dinner. Danish was still sitting beside her but not paying attention to her, he was busy websurfing. 

“Today I thought I would die here.” She muttered and Danish looked at her. 

"Don't think negatively. You could call me if you weren't fine.” 

"I'm already bothering you too much.”

"No need to be so formal. I also get good company in your presence otherwise….” He rolled his eyes. He had been living in a home full of life and now those dull walls make him feel empty inside out. 

"Why are you looking upset, Danish?” Her weak hand stopped to lift the next morsel and asked. 

"I'm fine, you just focus on your health." 

“You're ready to help me but you can't share your problems with me." She muttered and had the next morsel. "Do you know, it hurts when you consider someone your friend but that person considers you nothing." 

"Oh come on Aisha, just look at your condition. Will I sound sensible to discuss my problems when you're unable to sort out your problem?”

"Maybe I'll solve your problem.” She shrugged as she thought it was related to Fayra again but Danish sighed. 

“I came to Dubai to uplift my family business, but here I'm unable to get even a small contract. Can you do something for me?” he raised his left brow and she nodded. 

“I can pray for you." 

“That will be the biggest help." He stood up from his place and picked the medicine. After taking the empty bowl from Aisha he placed the pills on her palm and passed a glass of water. 

“Take it.” She gulped the pills with water. "There is a bowl of rice and daal present in the kitchen, have it if you feel hungry. Okay? Now I'm going. Call me if you need anything. At any time." He placed her mobile near her. 

“Aapne kuch khaya? Ya meri timardari me hi lage huye hain?" 

(Have you eaten anything? Or are you busy taking care of me?)

"I'll have dinner at my place.” 

"It means, now you'll cook for yourself.” Her voice was still weak and unclear but it was clear that she cared too much for him. 

“It's okay." 

“Go and have that daal rice right now. I'll make noodles if I feel hungry. Or I'll call you." 

“No Aisha." 

“Please Danish." And he nodded because he was already tired and had no energy to cook. 

He had dinner, cleaned the kitchen, did dishes and went to tell Aisha that he was going back but… that girl was already sleeping. He tried to wake her up but her slumber was deep. 

Now he couldn't go back leaving her apartment unlocked when she was all alone. Picking up an extra blanket he came back to the sofa of the hall and slept. He couldn't be more decent than this. 

“Ya Allah, main is ladki ki madad isliye kar rha hu kyuki iska koi sahara nhi hai, main iska sahara ban rha hu aap mujhse khush ho jaiye. Aur koi mujhse khush nhi hai kam se kam aap hi mujhse raazi ho jaiye. Meri zandgi me khushiya aur sukun de dijiye.” He closed his eyes and was soon consumed by slumber. 

(O Allah, I am helping this girl because she has no one to support her. I am becoming her support. Please help me. No one else is happy with me, at least you become happy with me. Give me a happy and peaceful life.)

In return for his selfless good deeds he asked for happiness and peace. He didn't know, his prayer was answered at the same moment. And now, happiness and peace were stamped into his destiny forever.

<><><>

“What happened? What did she say?" Aisha asked when Danish put the mobile phone on the coffee table. She was the one to ask Danish to call Fayra again to clear the misunderstanding but instead of listening to anything Fayra bursted out of anger. 

"If you want I can call Fayra and tell her everything. It's not her fault Danish, anyone could think negatively, but it was my fault, I shouldn't sleep… I shouldn't even let you come to my home.” Aisha muttered the last part with guilt. She didn't want to become a homewrecker. Her heart was beating faster, hands were shivering, this time not because of fever but because of fear. 

Fear of destroying Danish's marriage. 

She was continuously apologising when Danish looked at her and shook his head. A few moments ago he was looking tired and broken but now he was looking angry.

“It's not your fault Aisha. Fayra has known me since childhood, can't she trust me? You don't have to explain anything, let her think whatever she's thinking. Enough is enough.” And he stood up.

"Lock the door, I'm going.” He walked towards the door but stopped by a call.

"Don't make it a matter of ego. It will be difficult to sort out if it comes to ego instead of love." 

"Aisha I can't force her to trust and understand me.” And he left with anger.

"Danish.” He was stopped just outside the door and turned to see this girl who was already sick. “Yes?" 

“Promise me you'll not smoke to deal with this stress." Aisha’s demand worked like a bucket of ice cold water which put off the fire of anger. He said nothing but left. 

<><><>

Next Day

Aisha woke up with a severe headache and high fever again. The intensity of fever was lesser than yesterday but she was still weak and sick. Turning her side with great efforts she looked at the empty side of the bed. Yesterday Danish was sitting here looking after her. 

Can't I get someone in my life to look after me in the same way? 

She placed her hand on the spot where he was sitting yesterday. Eyes filled with fresh tears. After her mother's death, her engagement was broken, her father isolated himself and she— she already accepted her fate and prepared herself to live with loneliness, she made her father her priority but what about her? 

There was no one to look after her after her mother's death. In these years she forgot herself but yesterday someone was there for her. 

Until you taste the sweet, you don’t even know it exists. But once you do, the craving only grows.

Here, she wasn't craving sweet, she was longing for the warmth of love and care she savoured yesterday. For a moment she wanted to call Danish, not to summon him to her home, but just to talk to him for two minutes, just to hear some nice words but… she stopped herself.

Somehow she managed to get out of the bed to cook something for herself, and what she managed to make was cup noodles. She was midway through having it when the doorbell rang and she knew Danish wouldn't come again after whatever happened yesterday then who was present on the door?

She opened the door, and to her surprise, Danish was standing with a plate in his hands. 

“Have this and…” he uncovered the lid, two omelettes and a few bread slices were present on the plate. Aisha kept watching the plate then looked at him. 

“I'm sorry, I don't know how to cook something else." 

“I'm sorry to make your life problematic." She muttered while grabbing the plate. 

“It's alright." He muttered and lifted his hand towards her forehead but stopped a few inches away. 

"May I?” he asked in a whisper and Aisha looked in his eyes, there was nothing. No love, no care, no emotions. Just emptiness. Then why was he doing all these things? She slowly blinked her eyes and Danish placed the back of his fingers on her forehead. Then only one finger on her cheek. His cold skin against her burning one made her shiver. 

"You still have a high fever. Don't forget to take medicine. I'll bring something to eat at night. Call me if you need anything." Aisha kept watching him. Her heart clenched with pain. 

This care is temporary, this softness is temporary, this feeling is temporary, but the emptiness is permanent. She sighed and closed the door. 

<><><><>

“Call Danish and talk to him." Sara grabbed her daughter's hand softly, trying to convince her who was not ready to follow this order. 

“I'm not feeling well, I'll talk to him later." She replied while leaving the kitchen. Everyone was sitting together in the hall and talking about Danish but she was again hating him for being with a girl. 

Achoo…

Achoo…

Achoo…

“She is going to do this for the next four days." Maizah rolled her eyes while seeing Fayra sniffling and sneezing. All of them knew she was sensitive and careless too, this combo made her sick in every changing weather. 

"Give her some hot turmeric milk." Anzala told Maizah without looking up, he was checking his mobile. 

“Itni shareef nhi hai ki haldi wala dudh piyegi, maine dry fruits diye the wo bhi Zunera ke rabbit ko khila ka aa gyi.” Sara huffed while coming out of the kitchen holding coffee and snacks for everyone and Anzala looked at Maizah. 

(She is not so decent that she will drink milk with turmeric. I had given her dry fruits but she fed them to Zunera's rabbit.)

"Mazi, go and bring turmeric milk for her.” 

"No Bade papa." Fayra shook her head and slowly her eyes closed down and Achoo…

Sara glared at Adnaan because he gave Fayra pocket money from which she bought popsicles as well as cold drinks. 

Meanwhile Maizah came back with a glass of hot milk and passed towards Fayra who grimaced and slowly shook her head. 

“Fayra." A sharp call from Anzala and she looked up. “Have it right now." A horrifying order. 

“Bade papa, I don't…like…” before the sentence could be completed a sharp gaze from Anzala scared this little bunny. Grabbing the glass of milk, Fayra gulped it down in one go but when she removed the glass from her lips everyone noticed tears in her eyes. Without wasting time she ran back to her room while wiping her tears. 

“Ya Allah is ladki ko thodi aqal de." Mumbled Sara but Anzala jerked her head. 

(O Allah, give this girl some sense.)

“Maa baap ko konsi aqal thi?" He mumbled and Adnaan stood up to see his daughter, he didn't like Anzala glaring at Fayra due to which she cried out.

(Just like her parents.)

“Fayra." Adnaan knocked the already open door before stepping in. "What's wrong? Will you tell me what's actually bothering you? You can't cry just because of a glass of milk.” 

Fayra looked at her father and cried out, she didn't want to show her feelings but Adnaan already sensed something wrong. 

“Will you tell me?" Sitting beside her, he slowly cupped her face and wiped her tears. 

“Leave me alone. Please." She requested but Adnaan shook his head. 

“No, just tell me the problem." Adnaan insisted but Fayda didn't know the exact problem. She was unable to understand what was going on in her life. Everything was making her stressed with each passing minute. Sometimes she tries to forget everything and live a happy life just like she used to live a few months ago but the very next moment either Arsh or Danish come in front of her just to remind her that she wasn't happy with whatever was taking place in her life. 

“Papa aap logo ne mere sath achha nhi kara." It was the first time when Fayra expressed her pain openly. Wiping her tears she slowly pushed Adnaan’s hands away. 

(Papa, what you all did to me wasn’t fair.)

“What?" He asked. 

“Earlier you all fixed my marriage with Arsh and then suddenly you all called off the wedding. Was it a game or what?" 

“Arsh wasn't good for you Fayra." 

“Fine. I accept it. But why Danish?" 

“He is a nice guy, Fayra." 

“No! He is just your brother's son, that's why you think so. He is not anything better than Arsh.” 

"Do you even know what you are saying?” Adnaan was disappointed. He never loved his daughter, it didn't make him blind to trust her every word, but Fayra's fresh tears were enough to make him restless. 

“I called him two times. Each time he was with a girl. I don't want to spend my whole life with a man like this.”

"Did you ask him who that girl was? Maybe she is his colleague or just a friend.” Adnaan was justifying Danish’s action without knowing anything. 

“Colleague or just a friend? Papa I called him at night. Once that girl picked the call in a sleepy voice, and after hearing my voice she cut the call. I still thought about giving him a chance. But now when I called Danish he was sleeping, we talked for some ten minutes and then again the sleepy voice of that girl came from behind.” Fayra was enraged. “Now tell me which kind of friendship or co-working is this in which he is staying with a girl at midnight?" 

Adnaan was shocked to hear this. He remembered his past when he picked a wrong path to walk in the name of enjoyment and freedom. Before he could say something Fayra lifted her gaze towards the door. Anzala and Maizah were standing there, shocked. They came here to bring around Fayra but now they have another purpose to work on. 

<><><><>

Jise laut jana hai ek din— wo shakhs zindagi mein aata kyu hai? 

Is ujde huye gulshan mein abr-e-bahara laata kyu hain? 

Bohot mushkilo se raah-e-zist par sambhaalta hai khud ko insaan,

Phir wo ek shakhs bhule huye dard seene me jagata kyu hai?

Kisi ne chaha tha khud ko sambhaalna uske jaane ke baad.

Koi bataye, jaane ke baad bhi wo khwabo me aata kyu hai?

Jis se na koi marasim hai, naa hi raabta hai judayi ke baad

Meri zubaan pr us bemurawwat ka naam duao me aata kyu hai? 

Zehen kehta hai sambhal ja, dil kehta hai uske liye tham jaa

Jo mere sath chala hi nhi wo meri zindagi ko chalata kyu hai? 

Ek naya safar shuru karu ya dhundh laun use purani raahon se Naaz,

Ek ye hi sawal shash-o-panj mein mujhe har raat jagata kyu hai? 

_Naaz Jamal 

(03, Dec. 2025)

Glossary:

Gulshan: Flower garden

Abr-e-bahara: Clouds that bring rain. 

Raah-e-zist: Paths of life.

Marasim: Relationship 

Raabta: Contact 

Bemurawwat: A cold person/ inconsiderate.

Shash-o-panj: (Literal meaning: 5 or 6) but it actually means— A situation in which you're unable to choose one from two options. (Hesitancy)

Author's Note:

See, I'm trying my best 🥺

Send me some motivation. 

Bye.

Your Naaz 

And about this poem…. 

I have written something after ages. Literally ages. 

Last time I wrote something last year 

I'll also share that some day🙂

Bye.