Chapter 38

The aromatic long grained rice was taking the final shape and enhancing its flavor in the company of a perfect blend of spicy and tender chicken, seasoned with some coriander and fried onions. The whole house was smelling so good that anyone could start feeling hungry but the one who had to come for lunch was nowhere yet. 

Aisha was sitting on the prayer mat spread in the hall. A tasbih (prayer bead) was present in her hand, with each passing minute two of the beads were being pushed away. Her lips were constantly moving, heart was praying and trusting that the prayer would never be rejected. And finally after almost fifty minutes she delicately placed the tasbih away. Making a cup of her hands she picked them up in the air and closed her eyes.

“Ya Allah, Ya Rab-ul-Alameen, you are the only one who can make things easy for Danish, He is in trouble, but you can help him, you can take him out of every trouble. Make things easy for him, make his life happy. He is searching for a job. Help him find one, which makes his life easy. He wants to spread his business here. Give him success. Please Allah paak, you hear everyone’s call and request, listen to me too. I’m helpless. Danish is helpless. And you never leave helpless people alone when they want help from you. Show some mercy because you are the most merciful." She didn't know for how long she was praying and begging in front of Alah to make Danish successful. 

What was that other than selfless love? 

But she was unaware of this new feeling rising in herself.  

A ringing doorbell forced her to finish the dua. She stood up from the prayer mat, folded it before walking to the door.

“Danish main kab se intezar kar rhi thi aapka, mujhe bhuk lag rhi hai." The last part was a friendly complaint and Danish smiled while passing an ice cream tub towards her.

(Danish, I have been waiting for you for so long, I am hungry.)

“Arey, to khana khaa leti na, bhuki kyu bethi huyi ho?" 

(Why were you waiting for me? You should have lunch if you're hungry)

“Mujhse akele khana nhi khaya jata." Taking the icecream tub from his hand she pulled a face and walked towards the kitchen. 

(I don't feel like having my meal alone)

“Need any help?" Danish came after her and she shook her head but passed a bottle of water to him.

“Go and sit. You're already looking tired." She ordered. For a moment Danish was surprised. How did she read his face? But he smiled at the fact that true friends care for us without even telling the real condition of their life.

Lunch was served. Danish started having it silently but Aisha's eyes were fixed at his face, sensing her gaze he looked up, there was a question in her eyes. Curiosity forced her to watch him to get some clue from his expressions. 

“Amazing…. This is the best biryani I'm having for the first time since I came to Dubai.” he lifted another bite and again looked at Aisha who was now smiling brightly and lifting the very first morsel. Her efforts paid off in just two sentences. She was smiling wholeheartedly that her teeth were visible. This time Danish kept watching her smiling and having lunch. Her head was still covered with dupatta as usual. He had been coming to this home for a long time, yet he never saw her hair except the day she had extremely high fever. Her modesty, her humility, her simplicity were priceless, but Danish was looking at this girl from head to toe. He opened his mouth to say something… Aisha looked up and furrowed, she was about to ask him the reason behind this constant stare but Danish already resumed his meal leaving her in chaos. 

…….

He was cleaning the kitchen slab and making tea for both of them, she was doing the dishes and setting them in the draining rack. Danish was seeing her hands again and again but said nothing. He poured tea into two mugs and walked towards the hall followed by Aisha. 

She took a mug and Danish couldn't stay silent any longer.

“Aisha kya halat bana rakhi hai tumne apni?" She looked at him in confusion. She didn't know what he was talking about.

(Aisha, just look at the condition you've made of yourself.)

“What?" She put the mug back on the table.

“Look at your hands." She followed the order, “When did you apply moisturizer last time?" Danish asked and she noticed her dry skin turning rough and wrinkly. She didn't remember when she applied moisturizer on her hands, not even on her face.

"Dry skin. Pale face. Chapped lips. Mismatched clothes. What is this? Take care of yourself.” 

If she wasn't covering her head with dupatta, he must have added uncombed hair in the list. 

“Ab kuch bhi achha nhi lagta, kisi bhi cheez ka dil nhi chahta." She muttered while grabbing the mug again and took a small sip.

(Nothing feels good anymore, my heart doesn't want anything.)

“Kyu?" 

(Why?)

"Jab ammi thi main unhe tayyar hi ke dikhati thi, wo meri nazar utaarti thi, hamesha kehti thi main achhi lag rhi hu… ab tayyar ho ke kya kru? Ab kon tareef karega? Kon nazar utarega?” She had tears in her eyes but she didn't let them flow out, she gulped them like a strong person.

(I used to get ready for Ammi, she used to adore me, to praise me… now what's the point of grooming myself? Who will adore me? There is no one to praise me.)

“Do it for yourself." Danish said something like an order but she smiled like sarcasm. This man was demanding a dying person to groom herself. Many times she felt like completing the days of her life without any reason. Failures and pains come from everywhere to cling to her soul.

“Last time shopping par kab gyi thi?" He asked.

(When did you last go shopping?)

"A few days ago. Don't you remember, only you carried my bags home.” She tried to smile but Danish sighed.

“I'm not talking about groceries. When did you last go shopping for yourself? For your clothes. For cosmetics?” He asked without knowing what he had done. Unknowingly he touched her sour spot. 

Last time she did shopping for a wedding that never took place. Her last purchase was the bridal attire that she bought with a thousand dreams and wishes. After that she found no courage and no reason to buy anything related to her grooming.

“I don't remember." She lied.

“It must be on Eid." Danish gave a disappointed look but she looked at him and smiled sadly.

“Not for the last three Eid." She muttered. Danish was shocked to hear that. He finished the tea in a hurry and stood up.

“You have only ten minutes to get ready. We're going shopping." 

“What?" 

“Get up fast. Half minute is already gone" 

“But Danish…" 

“No if and but…” and she stood up with hesitation, she didn't want wasto go but Danish was not giving her the option to refuse. 

"But I already have plenty of clothes in my wardrobe." 

"That's great. Now buy something for the upcoming Eid.” And she  left with no other option but to go with him. 

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“Aapko pta hai aap bohot ziddi hain Danish." 

(Danish you're so stubborn.)

“Tauba Tauba… main itna to shareef hu. Abhi ziddi log dekhe bhi hain tumne?” 

(Oh my goodness, I am so decent. Have you even seen stubborn people yet?)

“Aapse zyada ziddi kon ho sakta hai?”

(Who can be more stubborn than you?)

“Come to my home to get the answer. I'm the most sincere and good boy of my family.” Danish praised himself and Aisha rolled her eyes.

“I can't believe it." Walking in the mall they were talking endlessly, Danish was listening and she was telling about everything. Useful or useless. She was getting space to share whatever she had in her heart.

“Want to have an ice cream?” Danish asked when saw the stall of the Turkish ice cream. Aisha shook her head but this guy again showed a good amount of stubbornness. 

The Turkish ice cream game began, the vendor started playful challenge with the stick and ice-cream come. For a few moments Aisha was enjoying when the vendor was pretending to give her the cone only to snatch it back with sleight-of-hand, but as the playful teasing went to its peak she huffed and stepped away. 

“Keep it. I don't want your stupid ice cream." She muttered and turned back to go. Danish was laughing on her frustration but he bought that ice cream and went after her. 

“I don't want to have it. Can't they give simply?" She huffed and Danish suppressed his smile. They both entered into a shop, Danish had to buy somethings for Birma as it was her wedding anniversary soon. He was busy with numerous bags and accessories when noticed Aisha watching a bracelet. 

“Are you going to buy it?" He asked going towards her. 

“Umm… it's good but…” she wore it in her wrist then removed it and shook her head. “I already have many. And I don't like bracelets much." She put it back. 

“Then what do you like?" 

“Rings. And, jhumka too." She smiled brightly while looking at another bracelet but this time Danish grabbed a silver ring with a black embedded stone, from the nearest display. 

“Try this.” 

"Beautiful.” she mumbled and slowly slipped in her ring finger. 

"How is this looking?” She asked as if the ring wasn't yelling itself that it was looking mesmerizing on her finger. 

"Goore hatho par kala rang hamesha achha lagta hai, main to keh rha hu iske sath ek matching bracelet ya wrist watch bhi lelo, bohot pyara lagega.” Aisha's heart skipped a beat. When did someone praise her beauty last time? She looked at her hand and forgot to blink. What was happening inside her? Why was she feeling her heart clenching with each passing moment with Danish? 

(Black always looks good on fair hands. You should get a matching bracelet or wristwatch with it, it will look pretty.)

She looked at him, now he was picking up a silver and black ladies wristwatch silently for a moment she thought it was for her but he put it back. 

“What happened?" She asked while picking it up and wore it. It looked amazing on her wrist but Danish's loud sigh grabbed her attention. 

“Fayra ke liye lene ki soch rha hu, lekin…” he left the sentence without knowing that those few words already broke a heart. The smile present on her lips vanished. 

(I’m thinking of taking it for Fayra, but…)

“Zyada na sochiye, le lijiye. Ladkiyo ko achha lagta jab unke bare me koi sochta hai, unhe pyaar se tohfa deta hai." Removing the watch from her wrist she passed it towards him with a big smile. 

(Don't think too much, just buy it. Girls love it when someone praises them or gives them gifts.)

“Will she like it?" 

“Gifts aren't being judged on the basis of beauty or price tag. They're value depends on the amount of love they hold. And you love her too much." Holding her breath she said the last part with a tight smile. "She is so lucky to have you in her life." And she walked to the other corner of the shop with a huge grin… only if Danish knew the truth behind her smile. 

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Life wasn't too difficult for her, but for the last few years it became challenging, especially after her mother’s death. After her passing away she was all alone because her father distanced himself from everything, he was going into the pit of depression and she was trying to pull him out of that darkness, however no one was there for her. The man whom she wanted to support her in those rough days, was the one who made her life terrible. She didn't know if she loved him or not but she definitely wanted to spend her life with him. She wanted him to support her and was willing to stand by his side for his whole life but he was gone leaving her devastated. In these years she had been living on her own but Danish came into her life out of the blue like a ray of light in the dark night.

Taking a deep breath she tossed in the bed one more time. The left side of the bed was empty as usual but a few days ago Danish was sitting here. looking after her when no one cared.

She closed her eyes, his face was present in front of her. Her heart gave a loud beat and she opened her eyes. “Why not someone else?” she mumbled, a tear rolled down from her eye to the bridge of nose and jumped on the pillow followed by another fresh one. 

She looked at her hand which was resting on the pillow. She could still feel Danish's hand on her hand when yesterday he gave her assurance on the dining table. How perfect his hand felt. Neither too hard nor too soft. Just perfect. When he slowly pressed her hand she felt as if someone squeezed her heart. She didn't want him to leave her hand but she also knew it was wrong… Danish didn't know, in those few seconds she fought a battle in herself. Half of her wanted to grab Danish's hand in response and the other half wanted to maintain her modesty, just like she was doing till date. And she pulled her hand away. 

Lifting the same hand in the air she looked at it with a blurry vision, tears were still rolling out from her eyes. A silver and black ring making her hand more beautiful. “Ya Allah, couldn't I get these feelings in a lawful manner?" She muttered and a silent sob died on her dry lips. A tear rolled on her cheek. She rubbed her cheek and suddenly remembered Danish touching her cheek and forehead to check fever. Goosebumps covered her body. Heart beat differently. 

Why do some feelings make you feel like home when they don't actually belong to you? Why do some questions make you stay up all night when there is no possible answer to find? If life is a mystery box, she was taking out all the odd items to make the process of solving it impossible.

Stop it Aisha. He is someone's husband. He loves someone else. 

She closed her eyes and remembered his smiling face.

“Ya Allah, give him every happiness. He deserves happiness, success and peace.” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. Slumber was not ready to consume her and she was not able to forget the one who cared for her every time she needed it.

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Jiski manzil mera muqaddar nahi, Main wo raasta phir chunu hi kyu,

Jo likhi jaye aansuo ki siyahi se, Main wo dastaan phir likhu hi kyu.

_Naaz Jamal