ABOUT THE AUTHOR 

Qurratulayn Z Ahmed is the pen name of QTZ. 

Deeds disguised as DESTINY

What Was Hidden, Was Always Written.”

Dedication 

"To those whom life gave a second chance...

And to those who gave life a second chance."

1

The bar was dimly lit, with the smell of smoke and wine in the air. Issam Rauf Shaikh sat at his usual spot, a glass of untouched whiskey near his elbow, a cigar sandwiched between his index finger and middle finger, burning slowly. Cards were shuffled on the table, but now his interest wasn’t really in the game, not since he has got a message from her.

Meherunnisa : Assalamualaikum. 

Kya kar rahe hai Issam?

Aapko aaj meri yaad nahi aayi?

A faint warmth crossed his face.

He put the cigar out in the ashtray and excused himself, walking out to the quieter back corridor of the bar. His men watched, a few exchanging knowing glances, this had become the routine after the 1 week of the engagement.

He stood under a lone yellow bulb, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

Issam:

Wa Alaikum Assalam Zindagi.

Har waqt tumhara khayal sath hota hai, ye kaise ho sakta hai tumhari yaad nahi aayi hogi mujhe? 

Meherunnisa:  

Aaj sara din gaya, raat hogyi aur aapka Good Morning ke alawa koi message nahi aaya to laga aap mujhe bhool gaye hai.

Issam:

Nisa, ab to tumhari khamoshi bhi azbar hogyi hai mujhe. Tum, tumhara dil, tumhara wajood, tumhara husn, ye sab mera hone ke bad bhi agar mai inki nafi karu to bad kismat kehlaunga. 

Meherunnisa: 

😊😻

He smiled at her reply, that single blushing emoji was enough to warm his chest. Without thinking twice of the time he hit the video call button. But she didn’t pick up. He tried again but the call was declined again. He waited a few seconds before texting again.

Issam:

Take the call, Nisa.

Meherunnisa:

Nahi.

A frown appeared on his face as he typed.

Issam:

Mai tumhe dekhna chahta hu, Zindagi.

There was a short pause then the typing bubble appeared and finally her reply came, which was enough to make his mood foul.

Meherunnisa: 

Baad me Issam. 

Issam”

Bas ek jhalak, Zindagi.

A typing bubble appeared but then it disappeared. There was no response for 1 minute then videocall was made from her side. He smiled answering it and for a brief moment, the screen filled with her pretty face. Her dupatta loosely draped over her head, cheeks flushed a bit and her big eyes were focused on him.

He sighed, almost inaudibly and whispered, “Ab tum bin guzara nahi ho payega mere dil.”

"Zyada dialogues nahi bole." She said, her gaze lowering.

"Par main to sirf apne dil se apni dil ki baat keh raha tha, Zindagi.”

She looked away biting a smile.

When she was composed, she focused again on the screen. There were shadows of distant trees, song of crickets and glow of distant headlights and noise of horns, coming from nearby highway. “Issam, aap ye kidhar hai aadhi raat me?”

“Dosto ke saath tha” He said, gazing at her beautiful face.

“Kya kar rahe hai?”

“Kuch nahi. Dosto ke saath bas thodi si masti kar raha tha.”

Her brows pulled slightly together, eyes scanning the frame.

“Ye bhayanak jagah mili thi masti ke liye?”

He laughed under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

“Bhayanak to hai, par jannat pahuncha deti hai.”

“Kya matlab?”

“Kuch nahi. Mujhe samajh nahi ata mujh jaise kamine insan ko tum kaise milgayi.

She narrowed her eyes at his words. ”Kafi raat ho gayi hai. Ek sharif insaan is waqt apne ghar hota hai. Jaldi ghar jaya kare Issam.”

“Uska kya faida? Tum thodi hoti ho ghar par meri thakan utarne ke liye.” His eyes didn’t leave the screen as he answered softly, “Tum aa jao, Nisa. Phir har raat ghar jaldi aaya karunga.”

She flushed again at his reply, hiding half her face with her dupatta. “Bahut ho gayi baate. Ghar jaye, Issam. Aaram kare. Nahi to main baat nahi karungi aapse.”

“Aisi jaan lewa dhamki to mat do. Bas thodi der aur fir jaa raha hu.”

“Pakka?” she asked.

“Zindagi ki kasam.”

“Allah Hafiz.” 

A soft smile played on his lips then he leaned at the screen  and mumbled, “Allah Hafiz. Mere khwabon me zarur ana.”

_______

The moonlight brushed the terrace in silver, but Issam's attention was fixed on the glowing screen. Meherunnisa sat wrapped in a peach shawl, her hair loosely tied, eyes blinking sleepily into the camera.

“You look tired,” he murmured.

“And you look..” she paused,”...different.”

“Different good or different bad?”

She smiled. “Peaceful.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “You might be the reason.”

She smiled quietly, toying with her silver chain, “I still can’t believe we talk like this now. A few weeks ago, you were a stranger.”

Issam’s eyes softened. “And now?”

Her voice was low but cheerful, “Now you’re someone my heart waits for.”

Before he could reply, the terrace door creaked open.

“Issam bhai?” came Fauzia Bhabhi’s voice. She stepped out with her 4 months old daughter in arms, “Yahan kis se baat ho rahi hai?”

Issam turned his screen toward her without hesitation. “Aapki hone wali devrani se. Lo baat karo.”

Meherunnisa’s eyes widened. “Issam!”

His Bhabhi chuckled. “Arey wah. Kitni pyari lag rahi ho, Meher. Allah naseeb achhe kare tum dono ke.”

“Ameen.” He mumbled.

After Fauzia left there was silence.

“Issam,” she whispered.

“Bolo Issam ki Zindagi?”

“Goodnight.”

He smiled. “Goodnight Zindagi.”

---

2

The breeze was humid and the curtains swaying gently as the sun filtered into their suite. It was their second morning in Maldives. Issam was standing in the balcony, his phone pressed against his right ear and his jaw was clenched as he talked.

“Did I not say I wanted that transfer cleared before Friday? What the hell are you people doing?” He barked in gujrati, like any other typical angry businessman. “Agar yeh delay hua na, I'll fire you all.”

His voice was hard and unforgiving. Meherunnisa, who was still curled in bed, shifted slightly. She wasn’t used to hearing him like this. Not at home, on their calls, his tone was always calm in front of her, a little playful even tender. But this side of Issam Rauf Shaikh was the one she had only heard rumors about.

He ended the call, exhaling hard as he tossed the phone on the bed and settle beside her. She flinched a little, her fingers nervously gripped the end of her dupatta.

Issam watched her for a moment, then cupped her face, his voice was measured now. “Kya hua?”

“I’ve never seen that side of you before.” She said slowly, but her eyes held the hesitation she couldn’t word.

Issam tilted his head slightly. “You will see more sides of me, Nisa. I’m not perfect. But I’ll make sure none of them ever hurt you.”

She passed a small smile, as he took her in his embrace.

“Taiyaar ho jao,” he said, his tone lighter now.. “Mai tumhare liye kuch bahut khas aur khubsurat sa souvenir lena chahta hu.”

Her eyes lit up instantly. “Sach?”

He walked over to the couch and pulled on his shirt. “Ha. Maldives ki kuch yaadgar chize to hona chahiye na tumhare pas?”

She made a messy bun of her long black waves. The tension from moments ago was vanishing now. 

“Aapka gussa…” She said in murmur. “It’s intense.”

“I know,” he returned to her side, buttoning the cuff of his shirt. “But I’ve been trying to just show my intense love to you rather than my intense anger.”

She intertwined their fingers, “You don’t have to change for me.”

“I am not changing,” he continued. “But I want to be softer where softness is deserved. And with you, Nisa, I only want to be gentle.”

His lips lingered on her forehead for a few seconds before he let go of her.

---

They walked quietly through Malé’s local market with their hands entwined.

Issam stopped outside a handicraft jewellery shop. Meherunnisa’s gaze stopped on a delicate Golden South Sea pearl pendant made in a band of white gold. 

Issam’s voice was low behind her. “Pasand aaya?”

She turned. “Bas dekh rahi thi.”

Issam turned to the jeweler. “Show me something worthy of her wrists.”

The jeweller returned with a velvet tray of hand-carved pieces. 

Issam’s eyes roamed around the collection of the handcrafted articles and then he picked up a red coral bracelet. It was as delicate and beautiful as his Nisa. His Zindagi.

He took Meherunnisa’s hand and put the bracelet on her wrist. "It suits you,” He said while fastening the clasp.

Meherunnisa lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”

“This isn't a gift,” he added, “It's a memory I want to anchor to your skin forever. So even if time grows harsh, tumhara yeh haath hamesha meri mohabbat ka wazan mehsoos kare.”

“Pack this one also,” he told the shopkeeper about the pearl pendant she was silently admiring before

“Issam iski zarurat nahi thi.” she said hesitantly.

“I  am giving you memories, Zindagi. I want you to remember this time and cherish our memories.”

“I’ve never owned anything this precious,” Her eyes welled up, she smiled despite the tears.

Issam stepped closer. “Kya hua, Nisa?”

She shook her head. “I just… I never thought I’d be here. Outside Gujarat. Outside India.”

In that moment, he realized her world had once been small. and now he was holding the map that could be stretch endlessly.

“You deserve all the goodness of the world, Nisa,” he said.

She looked up at him, and he saw was the woman who had walked into his world like calm into chaos.

3

Issam was on a tour of their textile unit when his brother Sarim, asked him to come to his father's office. When he entered the office, he sensed some tension there. His father was already seated on the power chair and his brothers, Subhan and Sarim sat beside him. He silently sat on the spare chair

“Is it true?” Rauf Shaikh asked in a cold voice, “You sold thirty percent of the factory shares?”

Issam stood composed, “Yes. I did.”

Sarim stood up, his expression twisted in disgust. “Apni biwi ko Maldives le jaane ke liye factory bechi hai? Wah, Issam Wah”

Subhan questioned. “You didn’t think it was important to tell us first?”

“No, it was a strategic decision,” Issam’s, jaw tightening. “A part of the investment for the Surat hotel launch.”

“Investment?” Sarim interrupted. “You sold family property without informing us.”

Issam looked at them one by one. “I don’t need your permission. Those shares were under my name.”

“They were under your name because Papa trusted you,” Sarim shot back.

“And I earned that trust,” Issam leaned back in his chair, looking at each of them one by one. “I pulled this struggling business out of the dirt. When Papa’s debts were suffocating this factory and our home, I was the one meeting shady characters, striking deals, and taking risks that no one else had the guts for. I’ve been pouring my heart and soul into this for five years to make profits. So no, I won’t ask for permission to use what I built.” 

Subhan opened his mouth to respond, but Issam raised a hand to stop him. 

“Let me finish. While you all were just waiting for a miracle, I transformed that one broken factory into five thriving ones. I started the hotel chain, which is now generating good profits.” 

Rauf stood up, seething with anger. “That’s enough. From today, you’re out of the factory business. Your voting rights are revoked, Issam. Subhan and Sarim will take over from here.”

“I’ve worked for years,” He stared at them, his voice laced with disbelief, “And this is what I get?”

“Be glad we have just taken factories from you, not the other assets, ” Sarim added.

Issam was silent as he stood adjusting his shirt and without saying anything he left. But something inside him had torn very badly.

—----------------

That evening, Issam was again at the bar to calm down his nerves. He was seated in a secluded corner of the bar, as he gulped down the forbidden drink, until the fire in his chest went quiet.

—----------------

Issam entered Haveli in a disheveled condition, his steps were heavier and pace slow like a turtle. Sweat was visible on his face, eyes were bloodshot red, hairs were messy، his shirt was crinkled, and the sleeves were unevenly rolled up.

His mother، Saima who was watching some soap opera on the TV، in the livingroom was startled when she noticed her son's drunk state, her expressions fell instantly and a crease appeared on her forehead. It had been two months since his marriage. He was not seen in such condition.

“Issam, maine mana kiya tha na tumhe Sharab ko hath lagane se,” disappointment was visible in her voice. “Ab tumhari zindagi mein koi aur bhi hai. Chhod do yeh sab, nahi to wo chhod degi tumhe.”

He didn’t respond to his mother but her last words enraged him. That sentence 'Woh chhod degi tumhe.' was still echoing in his head like some deadly siren. He made his way upstairs with his fist clenched tightly۔

The door of their room was ajar، he saw Meherunnisa sitting on the bed, busy folding the clothes. He walked in, stumbling. He sat near her, and the smell of alcohol filled around him which made her guts feel nauseous. 

He pulled her towards him.

“Issam, aap yeh kya….” she stammered, fear flaring in her chest.

He pressed his index finger against her lips. “Shhh. Tum meri zindagi ho, Nisa. Mai tumhe khud se door nahi jaane dunga…” His voice was hoarse and it made her heart race badly, not with affection, but with fear.

He cupped her face and leaned in. But the stench smell made her stomach churn. She turned her head sharply. “Issam, don’t.”

“You’re mine. Only mine,” He whispered against her temple.

“No!” she cried, pushing him back, her palms trembling, “Don't. You’re drunk.”

He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in like a drug. “You smell like peace and I need peace, Zindagi.”

When she find his grip loosened on her arms, she pushed him hard with all her power resulting in Issam falling to the floor with a dull thud.

For moments, the room echoed with haunting silence. Issam sat up slowly with fury in his bloodshot eyes.

“You dare push me?” he growled, standing.

She backed away. “You’re not yourself. Please just go!”

He walked up and slapped her “You’re refusing me now?” His tone was rageful, “You’re disobeying me?”

Her voice broke. “And what about your disobedience to the One above us both?”

He stared at her with a clenched jaw and shouted, “Don’t drag God into our bedroom.”

She didn’t respond but her tears were flowing.

He kept staring at her for sometime, then inhaling a sharp  breath he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a loud thud۔

_____

When her eyes shot open she found herself surrounded by  darkness inside as well as outside and it felt very much horrifying to her. Her heart was thudding loudly when the flashback of earlier moments returned to her mind. She touched the side of her face in disbelief which was still burning from the slap. It was unbelievable for her that Issam could raise his hand at his Zindagi, his Nisa.

The silence as well as the darkness in the room was suffocating. She turned on the lamp. Issam was not there. The upset part of her was relieved by his absence but another part, a softer and stubborn one, ached with worry for her husband.

Her trembling fingers reached for the phone, as she dialled his number.

Once.

Twice.

On the third ring the call was answered.

“Issam?” Her voice cracked, “Where are you?”

There was a pause. Then his ragged breath came through the speaker, "You didn’t care when you pushed me off like I was some disgusting creature.”

“Issam, I was just scared. You weren’t in your senses…”

“I wasn't,” he snapped. “But you were, Meherunnisa. You acted like I was a monster. Maybe I am. Maybe that’s all I’ve ever been.”

“Issam,” she whispered, sobbing, “Please come home.”

“Tumhara inkar abhi mujhe bhoola nahi hai, Nisa. And thanks to you, now I remember what I used to be. Tumhara darwaza band hua to kya, duniya ke darwaze hamesha khule hote hai mujh jaise gunahgaro ke liye.”

Her breath hitched. “What are you saying?”

“I gave up the world for you, Nisa. The filth, the gambling, the women. All of it. And you look at me like I’m a monster.” he replied, “From tonight, Issam Rauf Shaikh is done chasing purity. He has again become the wanderer of forbidden alleys.

“Issam, kya keh rahe hai?” Her voice cracked, barely holding together.

“Well get used to it,” he voice was cold,“Because this is what you married. A man with darkness.”

“Just tell me where you are….” She shouted.

“I’m exactly where your rejection pushed me. Somewhere you don’t belong.”

The call ended and she blankly stared at the screen. Horror was visible on her face. The revelation of his dark side and his harsh words were so cruel. It all was too much for her to process. With a trembling hand she placed the phone down. Crying she curled on the bed, like a helpless woman watching her love rot in front of her.

A whispered sob left her lips: “Ya Allah, What happened to my Issam?”

4

Meherunnisa was preparing Dinner when her mother-in-law, Saima, came into the kitchen.

“Meher beta, chai bana do mere liye. Sar mein dard ho raha hai.”

Meherunnisa nodded, placing a saucepan on the stove, adding water and tea leaves to it.

Few minutes later Saima took the first sip of the tea, sighing. “Issam kidhar hai? Ek hafta ho gaya, chehra tak nahi dikhaya.”

Meherunnisa froze at her question, then she turned her attention to the whistling pressure cooker, pretending she hadn’t heard.

Saima asked again, lowering her cup. “Tum dono ki koi ladai hui hai?”

Meherunnisa didn’t respond immediately. Her fingers tightened on the spoon. After she composed herself she raised a question towards her mother in law  instead of answering the previous question, “You lied to my parents.” 

Saima paused. “What?”

“You told them it all was just rumours about Issam. He is not involved in alcohol or any women.”

Saima sighed. “Meher, he’s not a bad man. He is just struggling with some depression. I thought after marriage he will change.”

“Depression? To mai aapko Psychiatrist lagi thi kya?” Meherunnisa’s voice was raised. “How can you think, a girl who knows nothing about the man, just with her presence would heal a man drowning in his own demons?”

“Meher, bas….”

“No,” she said, “Aapne apne depressed bete ko theek karne ke liye kisi aur ki beti ko depression mein daal diya.”

Saima’s face twisted with offense.” Saima stood up now, her voice rising in defense. “Zubaan sambhalo, Na shukri ladki! Because of my son, you're living like a queen in this haveli. What were you before this? You think you deserved this lifestyle, this clothes, this gold and diamonds?”

Meherunnisa replied but her voice was calm. “I would have preferred dignity over diamonds.

Saima’s tone was rageful. “Mera Issam ek baar thoda pi kar kya aagaya, tumne to uski saari mohabbat, chahat ko bhoola kar use gunahon ka devta hi bana diya.”

Meherunnisa looked at her, “Aapko kya lagta hai sirf unki ek baar ki galti ke wajah se keh rhi hu mai ye sab? A few times before he came home with the stink of alcohol, telling me it was his friend who had been drinking and I believed him. Then he started losing control, he raised his voice then he raised his hand on the woman he claimed to love. 

Saima was silent.

“You wouldn’t understand me,” Meherunnisa continued. “Because your husband isn’t like that. Your daughter’s husband isn’t like that. You can’t imagine what it’s like to be terrified of the man who once called you Zindagi.”

For the first time, Meherunnisa didn’t look like the shy girl from a modest home. She looked like a woman badly hurt and wounded.

---

Issam returned home after eight days, he spent his time in his farmhouse, no one was aware of. The house was quiet when he entered but mixed voices were coming from the dining room. His mother, his brother Sarim, Sarim’s wife and their daughter, along with Subhan’s wife and son, and Meherunnisa were seated at the table for lunch.

He sat down beside Meherunnisa. She was taken aback by his presence but quietly served him. She hadn’t expected him home today.

Lunch was done with mild conversations but as soon as the plates were emptied, everyone rose.

“Meher, plates dho dena, aur kitchen bhi saaf kar lena,” Fauzia, Sarim’s wife said casually as they began to leave.

“And don’t forget to clean the shelf,” added Subhan’s wife, picking up her son..

Issam’s gaze moved from one face to another before it fixed on Meherunnisa, who had silently begun stacking the plates.

“Meri biwi kaam karne ke liye nahi aayi hai,” Issam said flatly, his voice loud enough to stop everyone mid-step.

Sarim turned. “Kya?”

Issam stood, his eyes cool but firm. “Main kaafi waqt se dekh raha hoon. Tum log meri biwi se ghar ka sara kaam karate ho..”

“She is used to it, Issam Bhai.” Sarim’s wife said, “Meher apne ghar mein sara kaam akele karti thi.” 

“Karti thi, bhabhi. Ab nahi karegi,” Issam replied without blinking.

“Issam bas thoda sa to kaam hota hai kitchen ka.” Saima said.

 “Agar sab saath kaam karenge to thik hai, nhi to Nisa akeli kuch nahi karegi.”

A stunned silence followed and they all left making faces.

Meherunnisa’s chest tightened with something warmer. She hadn’t expected him to speak for her. Not after the growing distance between them. 

________

Later that evening, Issam went to the factory. He hadn’t been there since then and had expected some resistance on his arrival but he was openly humiliated in front of all the workers.

As soon as he entered the office area, Sarim stood in his way.

“You're not allowed here.” Sarim said with a crooked grin.

Issam stood tall. “I came to speak to Papa.”

“There is nothing left to say,” Sarim snapped.

Subhan appeared from behind, laughing. “Aur kya bechne aaye ho Issam? Dusre honeymoon ke liye paisa kam pad gaya kya?”

Issam’s fists clenched.

Sarim smirked. “Ek kaam karo Meher ka zewar bech do. Do honeymoon aur ho jayenge.”

That was it. Issam’s temper grew and he punched Sarim hard on the face, making him fall into a desk.

“You don't speak her name,” Issam growled with his eyes blazing.

Sarim held his bleeding lip, cursing. “Pagal ho gaya hai tu!!” he shouted. “Security!”

Within seconds, the guards entered. Two of them gripped Issam by the arms, dragging him towards the exit.

He struggled. “Chhodo mujhe! This is my factory, I built this….”

“Drag him out,” Sarim ordered. “And if he shows up again, call the police.”

Workers watched him silently. One whispered, “He was the reason this place rose…”

Another added quietly, “And look how they threw him away.”

Issam looked at the factory one last time, the monument he once built with sleepless nights in his teenage.. He turned his back on it, each step away echoing like something inside him was finally gone and walked straight to the nearest car.

—-----‐—---

The lights in the bar were low and smoky vibing perfectly with Issam’s foul mood. He sat at a corner table, ordering the drink. Rage still burned under his skin from the factory encounter.

Just then, his friend Shafi sat opposite to him, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"Party kab de raha hai, bhai?" Shafi asked, calling the waiter.

Issam frowned. "What for?"

Shafi chuckled. “Arrey wah, tu acting bhi karne laga hai? I thought you’d be bouncing off walls by now.”

Issam narrowed his eyes. “Shafi, I’m in no mood for your riddles. Spit it out.”

Shafi leaned forward. “You’re going to be a father, bhai.”

Issam froze.

His glass stopped halfway to his lips. “Kya?”

“Don’t pretend,” Shafi chuckled. “Yesterday, I went with my wife for her routine checkup. Your mother was there with Meherunnisa. She told my wife the news that Meherunnisa is expecting.”

Issam stared at him in disbelief, “Are you serious?”

“Bhai, do I look like I did joke about something like this?”

For a moment, he just sat there still like time had stopped. Then after some moments, the chair fell back with a thud, as he rose up from it and made his way out of the bar.

………………………..

He climbed the stairs of Haveli two at a time. He opened the bedroom door, and Meherunnisa was sitting on the couch. Issam walked to her, his eyes wide with disbelief and joy. He cupped her face gently but his voice was trembling. “Zindagi…. you're expecting?”

She didn’t speak but her silence gave him the answer.

His grip loosened on her, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to,” she said quietly.

His brows knitted in confusion “Why?”

She looked away. “Because I don’t want this child.”

“What?” His voice was laced in disbelief. 

“I can’t bring a child into this mess, Issam. I’ve asked the doctor to start the MTP. She………”

“How dare you!” he hissed. grabbing her by the throat and backing her against the wall.

“You want to kill my child?” he roared, eyes bloodshot. “You want to erase the only pure thing left in my cursed life?”

Meherunnisa choked, struggling to get out of his grip. Her eyes were widened in terror, but then her hand found a hair dryer on the nearby dresser. She hit him hard with it on his neck.

Issam groaned in pain and released her. She gasped, coughed and stumbled a little then with tears in her eyes, She ran out of the room, locked it from outside with trembling fingers and ran down the stairs barefoot. In no time she was at her aunt’s house next door. She was breathless when she slumped at the threshold knocking the door with her shaking hands.

Issam was sitting on the floor holding his neck with his right hand. His eyes were fixed at the closed door and for the first time, he realized what he had just done was not justified.

5

It had been months since that night, when everything shattered to shards. After the incident, Meherunnisa never came back to Haveli. Her aunt had taken her to her parents' village. Issam had tried to reach her many times, to apologise to her but she had refused to see him. He had tried messaging, calling, also sending messages through mutual contacts but no response came. Her parents were also very furious; they demanded a divorce but Issam had refused.

Since that night, the consequences came crashing down. His own parents had disowned him, and thrown him out of the haveli. His brothers snatched everything from him, hotels, lands, authority. All that remained to him was a single small hotel, that too his father had given out of pity. He had been living in a hostel room, silently dragging his life. Everyday fighting the urge to end his life.

Yesterday he got to know, she had given birth to a daughter., His daughter and today, he was again standing at the doorstep of her parents’ house. His heart pounded against his ribs in excitement and nervousness when he knocked on the door. His nervousness was suppressed by the feeling of ecstasy that he would finally meet his little bundle of joy۔

Her father came to the door, his face fell seeing him, “Issam Tumhe mana kiya tha na yahan ane se. Kyu aye ho?”

Issam’s lips parted, “Uncle, I want to see my wife. I want to hold my daughter.”

“You lost that right the day you raised a hand on her,” the man said coldly.

“I made a mistake….” His head low with shame.

“Mr Issam, mistake is forgetting an anniversary,” her father snapped. “You don’t raise your hand on a woman and call it a mistake.”

Issam swallowed hard, shame engulfing him. “Let me meet them just once.”

Her father shook his head. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

“Please. Let me see my daughter. I wanna hold her.”

“Leave, Issam.”

There was a long pause, nothing was said and then the old man's eyes studied him, his sunken cheeks, the dullness in his eyes, the unshaven face, omce his pristine clothes now wrinkled and worn.

“Five minutes.” Her father said and Issam's face lit up as he stepped in.

In the living room, her younger brother Areeb was present on the sofa, playing with the baby wrapped in a soft pink blanket. 

Areeb stiffened when he noticed Issam.

Issam walked slowly towards him, towards his daughter. But as he reached forward to get a glimpse of the tiny girl who bore his blood, Areeb stood up abruptly, shielding the baby from Issam’s reach, then gently placed her in the wooden cot beside the sofa.

And then he roared, “Andar aane ki himmat kaise hui?”

“I just wanted to see her,” Issam whispered, bending near the cot to pick her.

“I swear if you touch her,” Areeb seethed in anger, “I will forget that you’re her father.”

He stopped helplessly, then he sobbed “Meri Nisa se ek baar mila do.”

“Appi so rhi hai.” The boy said flatly, taking him towards her room. He was stopped at the threshold. From there he saw her. She was tucked in the blanket. His heart pounded seeing her after ages.

Said Areeb, “You’ve seen enough. Now Leave!” 

One last time Issam stared at the tiny figure wrapped in the blanket, his eyes filling with tears. He turned and walked out silently, carrying the ache of what he couldn’t touch, see and feel.

How unlucky father he is who doesn't know his daughter's name or got to have a single glance of his little life 

Tiredly, he drove back to his hometown, the route felt longer than usual to him. He felt an ache in his heart, and the silence deafening so to escape from this choking attack he turned on the car stereo.

Chamakte chaand ko, toota hua taara bana daala.

Meri aawaragi ne, mujhko aawaara bana daala.

His fingers tightened around the wheel. A deep breath left his lips, shaky and weak. “Aawaara, hi to ban gya hai tu Issam. I have ruined myself.”

Bada dilkash, bada rangeen hai, yeh sheher kehte hain

Yahan par hain hazaaron ghar, gharo mein log rehte hain.

The ghazal continued, its each word slicing through him like a blade.

Mujhe is sheher ne, galiyon ka banjara bana daala.

“I don’t belong anywhere,” he whispered. “Not to a home, not to her, not even to myself.”

Issam's voice cracked. “Homeless ke sath sath hopeless bhi bana diya hai.”.

His vision was getting blurry so blinking hard he stopped the car onto the side of the highway.

He blinked several times to get rid of the tears which was making his view blurry 

Main is duniya ko aksar dekhkar hairaan hota hoon

Na mujhse ban saka, chhota sa ghar, din-raat rota hoon…

At that line he was shattered completely. He dropped his forehead to the steering wheel now his body shook with sobs, “I couldn’t make a home. I destroyed it. I destroyed her. I destroyed everything.”

Khudaya tune kaise yeh jahan saara bana daala…

He was still crying.

Mere Malik, mera dil kyu tadapta hai, sulaghta hai.

He exhaled a long breath to calm down his nerves. Then kept his right palm on his heart, which was seeping with tints of crimson and blue. 

Teri marzi, teri marzi pe kiska zor chalta hai…

Kisi ko gul, kisi ko tune angaara bana daala…

He lifted his face and rested it against the cushion of the seat. “I am the burning coal which has burned every beautiful thing.”

Yahi aaghaz tha mera, yahi anjaam hona tha

Mujhe barbaad hona tha, mujhe nakaam hona tha…

The ghazal kept going and his tears were dried now.

Mujhe taqdeer ne, taqdeer ka maara bana daala…

“Khuda mai mar kyu nahi jata?” He looked out through the windshield, when something caught his eye. Across the divider, a white SUV cruised down the opposite side. A familiar face behind the wheel, Sarim and his father, Rauf, on the passenger seat and on the back seat was his mother Saima, his wife, Fauzia and their daughter.

It was Sarim who had poisoned their father against him, snatched his place, humiliated him and was now ruling his kingdom after making his brother's life hell. 

His heart flipped with rising emotions which were disgusting and too ugly to name.

“I hope you meet with an accident, ” he muttered. “I hope you also go through the hell I am going through.”

His own words shocked him, he quickly threw that disgusting thought. But the anger, the depression was eating him from the inside, and the sadness was no less cruel.

Issam tere maa-baap tere bina khush hai. Tere bhai tujhe apna bhai nhi balke harif samajhte hai. Nisa ko bhi tujhse azadi chahiye.

His thoughts were running wild, pushing him to engulf the embrace where everything stop to exist and just peace and tranquility resides. He grabbed the liquor and took a sip.

Then he took out his phone, opened it. Meherunnisa's pic was on his wallpaper. He caressed her picture, looking at her with adoration then kissed it. Afterwards he changed the wallpaper, because he was well aware after his suicide his phone will go in many hands and he don't want any other man to have a glance of his zindagi. Before deleting their special moments he shared all his and Meherunnisa's pictures, his passwords, his PINs on her WhatsApp. Then he typed some messages on her chat and sent them.

Zindagi, aaj mujhe tumhari kami badi shiddat se mehsoos ho rahi hai. Magar ab lagta hai ye fasla zaruri tha, sahi tha. Kyuki tum haram kaamo se parhez karne wali thi aur Issam ne har haram chiz ka maza chakha hai. Mera khayal hai maine zindagi me har chhota bada haram kaam kiya hai bas list me ek ki kami thi aaj mai wo bhi apne nama e amal me likhne ja raha hu. Aaj mai apni zindagi ko azad karne ja raha hu.

Nisa Meri zindagi, tum mujhse azadi chahti thi na? Bas chand lamho me tumhari khwaish puri hojayegi. Mai apni pyari se nanhi jaan ka didar nahi kar ska pr tum use mere pehle aur aakhri didar se mehroom mat rakhna. 

Mai to uska naam bhi nahi jaanta, ye bhi nahi jaanta ke uska kuch naam rakha bhi gya hai ya nahi. Meri bahot khwaish thi Meri beti ka naam Mirha ho. Par khair hai. Mustaqbil me kabhi meri Mirha mere baare me puchhe to usko mere baare me kuch aur mat batana bas itna batana ki Issam Shaikh ko Mirha Issam se bahot Mohabbat hai. Mai chahta hu mere se judi jo bhi chiz uske pas ho wo taklif se pak ho. Kyuki wo wahid insan hogi jisne mera accha ya bura koi roop nahi dekha hoga par fir bhi wo mujhe yaad kara karegi, meri kami ko mehsoos karegi, mujhe pukara karegi, mujhse mohabbat karegi. 

Then he pressed the voice note icon and recorded his last words for his Zindagi.

“Issam ki Zindagi tum ho Nisa, ye jise khatam krne ja rha hu wo to bas azmaisho ka daldal hai.”

Then he cleared their chat, and switched off his phone. He threw it on the backseat and drove the car towards Haveli. He drank some more then parking the car outside Haveli, he locked it and threw the key inside Haveli gate. Carrying a bottle of alcohol he walked towards the Masjid. The gate of Masjid was locked, so he climbed the nearby tree and jumped on the first floor of the Masjid. And then he grabbed the mic and uttered whatever came in his mouth. And then went to the second floor to end his life.

6

The silence of the village was torn apart by the loud voice booming out from all the speakers of the Masjid. 

“Mai Issam Rauf Shaikh aaj main apni zindagi khatam karne jaa raha hoon. Meri maut ke zimmedar aur koi nahi balke mera maa- baap aur Bhai honge.” 

His voice was trembling, unclear but soaked in lot of pain and intoxication. It was 02:23 am. The night was tranquil moments ago but now the chaos was spreading around the small village as people need their sleeps as they ran towards Masjid in haste. The upper floors of the Masjid was under construction & the main gate was locked.  People gathered outside Masjid were whispering, How he managed to reachd there. As they silently watched the drama, where Issam was standing at the second floor of the masjid, with a empty glass bottle in his one hand and mic in another one, Facing towards ground. 

“Mere apne mujhe maaf nahi kar sake.” His heavy voice low as he looks towards the sky. “Par mujhe yaqeen hai mera Rab mujhe maaf kar dega.”  

Issam raised his voice again.

Someone shouted from below, “Issam! Neeche aa jaa, bhai!” But he didn’t react.

“Imam Sahab ko bulao koi jaldi. Masjid ki chabiya le kr aao unse koi.” People shouted. 

“Main ab bas thak gaya hoon,” he said quietly into the mic. “Roz ki daant aur taano se. Is zalalat se bhari zindagi se. Mujh jaise gunahgaar ko to marne ke bad bhi sukoon nahi milega. Logo bas meri aakhri khwahish puri kar dena. Meri maghfirat ki dua karna. Khuda se ilteja karna mujh gunahgaar ke sath rehem ka maamla kre.”

Tears rolled down his face and his lips quivered with the intensity of his emotions.

“Papa sahi kehte hai mai bahot ghatiya insan hu. Maine meri Meher ko bahot taklif di hai, wo to mujhse bahot mohabbat karti thi, meri maar khane ke bad bhi mera khayal karti thi…” he paused, his eyes shutting briefly. “Usse bhi main sambhaal nahi saka. Uske ane se meri zindagi badalne lagi thi. Lekin maine sab barbaad kar diya. Gusse me, nashe me, maine apne hi haathon apni Mohabbat ko tod diya. Mujhe jeene ka koi haq nahi.”

The Imam finally arrived, on the bike of some villager, he forwarded the key to the people and they ran to Open the main door of the masjid.  

The old Imam came forward and shouted. “Issam beta, Niche aao. Ham tumhara masla baith kar sukun se hal karenge. Yeh raasta nahi hai!”

Issam dropped the mic, the glass bottle also slipped from his hand, smashing on the ground. People flinched back quickly as the shards of glass scattered around the courtyard of the masjid. He sat down on the ledge, dangling his legs down. Some boys went to get him down. After a struggle of 10 minutes, five young boys managed to get Issam on the ground. 

Rauf Shaikh with his sons Sarim and Subhan reached there. He grabbed him collar and slapped him hard..”How dare you, *Curseword*”

“Tameez se baat kar Rauf Shaikh.” Issam roared in Rage, putting his palms around his father's neck.

For a moment, Rauf Shaikh was taken aback by his action..

Sarim rushed forward and kicked Issam hard, his voice thick with disgust. “Pagal ho gaya hai tu? Baap ka gala daba raha hai? Sharam kar!”

Issam stumbled, but didn’t fall. He stood back upright, breathing heavily. “Main pagal nahi hu, bas akela ho gaya hu. Mujhe Ghar se nikaal diya, factory se nikaal diya. Meri Meher se alag kar diya. Meri beti se milne nahi diya. Ab chahte kya ho tum log?”

Subhan stepped in, beating him, “Tu deserve karta hai yeh sab, zaleel insan.” 

“Tamasha nahi chal raha yahan Sabhi log apne apne ghar jaye.” Sarim yelled and people began to dismiss

“Imam Sahab mafi chahta hu, zehmat hui aapko,” Rauf Shaikh muttered.

The Imam’s eyes narrowed. “Zehmat nahi, Rauf Seth, sharmindagi hui hai. Masjid ka mimbar ab aapke ghar ke jhagde ke liye reh gaya hai?”

There was silence for some moments. Sarim and Subhan dragged Issam across the dirt path like a stray animal. At the haveli gate, Subhan spat, “Idhar mar tu.” They threw him near the old neem tree, where the goats and cows were tied up. Issam winced, blood trickling from his lip.

He chuckled bitterly, voice fading. “Kam se kam sukoon ki jagah par marne dete.”

His eyes rolled back as his head hit the stone floor and the darkness swallowed him whole.

7

The dawn had just broken and the sky was gradually lightening. When his eyes shut open, his body ached badly and his head was spinning. 

"Issam Zindagi to tujhse naraz hi thi, lagta hai maut bhi khafa hai," he whispered with a chuckle. “Ab konsi raah e faraar muntakhib karoge, Issam?"

Just then, his hopeless eyes stopped on an old rope lying near the tree. He dragged himself towards it slowly. After grabbing it he made a noose out of it he began climbing up the tree, the same tree he had been climbing many times since his childhood. He inhaled a long breath settling on a thick branch, afterwards he tied the loose end of the rope tightly around the branch. He pulled the knot tighter and harder, double-knotting it. He wanted it all to end for once and forever.

He placed the noose around his neck and pulled it tight, so there won't be any chances of his survival. He made it tighter that made him choke on his breathings.  

And then with his shallow breathings, he murmured,

“Maut ka khayal hamesha dil kash, dil fareb, pur sukun laga karta tha. Ab maut se baghalgir hone ja raha hu to Maut se jyada dil larzane wala kuch nahi lag raha hai.”

Closing his eyes and murmuring some incoherent words, he jumped from the tree. In the fraction of seconds his body was dangling down the tree. 

The helper who was giving fodder to the animals turned towards the tree hearing the sound of something falling. His eyes wide as the scene unfolded.

“Is…sa…m bh….aii!” he tried to shout but his voice was not coming out due to shock. He ran to him and lifting Issam’s legs on his shoulders to take off the pressure. “Koi to madad karo! Jaldi aao, Issam Bhai ne phansi le li hai.”

People from the haveli rushed out hearing his calls. Rauf Seth was the first to come.  He stood rooted there, his face turned pale seeing his son like this, “Issam!!”

Subhan and Sarim came after him. Subhan went towards the helper and caught Issam’s body. “Issam tumhari Saans chal rahi hai. Tumko kuch nhi hoga mere bhai!” he cried, holding giving support to his body.

Sarim quickly picked up the sickle kept near a heap of fodder and jumped on the tree,  cutting the rope with shaking hands and Issam’s body fell into Subhan’s arms.

Just then, Saima came crying loudly. “Issam! Mera bacha! Kya kar diya tune!” She held his cold hands and kissed his face. “Aankhein kholo!”

“Car nikalo!” Subhan shouted.

They placed Issam in the back seat. His head resting on Saima’s lap who was crying and praying and his legs were kept on his father's lap, who was quiet, staring ahead with empty eyes. Sarim rushed the car, and Subhan was holding Issam’s cold hand in his. 

They all knew if he dies now, they’ll never forgive themselves.

—---------------

The sound of beeping machines echoed in the ICU. Issam was lying on the bed. The slowly raising and felling movement of his chest gave them the answer of their unasked question that he was alive. 

Outside, his mother was settled on the bench as she kept praying for his life.

Subhan sat next to his mother, grateful that his brother was alive. Sarim was leaning against the wall silently blaming himself for Issam's condition. Rauf Seth stood alone near the door of the ICU, continuously glancing at his son. The father who once turned away from Issam was now praying for his long life.

The silence was broken by the doctor stepping out.

“He’s stable for now,” he said. “But mentally he’s very weak. Be careful with him.”

Saima nodded with tears in her eyes. “Can I see him for a minute?”

The doctor allowed her. She entered the ICU and sat beside her son.

“Issam…” Tears slided from her eyes as she took his cold hand in her warm ones. “aankhein kholo, meri jaan.” 

There was a slight movement in his closed eyes but he stay still tired to open his eyes or respond to the world.

—--------

8

The call for Fajr echoed in the melodious voice of the muezzin and Meherunnisa woke up. She lazily sat up, her eyes fell on her daughter sleeping peacefully۔ she smiled at her and leaning down to her tiny forehead she left a soft kiss there and then disappeared into the washroom.

After offering her prayer, she returned to her bed and picked up her phone. It had been off the whole night. As soon as she turned on the mobile data, her screen lit up with continuous notifications.

100+ unread messages all from Issam.

Her heart missed a beat. With trembling hands, she opened the chat. But sighed in relief seeing their photos. She stopped at one selfie, and zoomed in, caressing Issam’s face with her pad of thumb. Then her eyes fell on his text and after reading it blood drained from her face. She quickly dialled his number but it was not reachable.

She tried again and gain. Panic rising in her heart she rushed to her father’s room. “Papa! Papa uthiyee, Issam… unhone dekhe kya bheja hai...”

Her father sat up immediately. She showed him his message.

She said, “Mujhe unke paas jaana hai Papa!!!”

“Meher, sambhalo khudko…” he said, dialling his number.

“Please, agar unko kuch ho gaya to mai kabhi khud ko maaf nahi kar paungi,” she cried.

“Call your aunt, Meher, she lives near haveli, she must know about him,” Her mother suggested.

Meherunnisa dialed her number with shaking hands. On the other end, her aunt answered and the moment she mentioned Issam’s name, her aunt’s voice broke.

“Beta, wo ICU me hai. Usne...”

Before she could finish, Meherunnisa started crying. Her father took the phone and listened.

“Meher, pack your things. We’re leaving for the city..”

The ten-hour journey to Issam’s town، felt like a lifetime to her۔

---

Issam hadn’t spoken a single word since he got his consciousness. 

Not to his mother.

Not to his brothers.

Not even to the doctors.

He would open his eyes، stare at the ceiling with his eyes void of life and shine, then shut them back with disappointment.

That afternoon, his eyelids were heavy with sleep, when he heard a serene voice.

Her voice.

Slowly he opened his eyes and saw his Zindagi,sitting near him. Seeing her he felt tranquility filling inside him. Her orbs were tears filled and her head was placed over his left arm.

“N-Nisa...”

On hearing her name from his mouth, she looked at him, with her eyes full of worry, fear and relief.

"Issam, Mere Issam." She spoke, clutching his arms protectively. He tried to get up but she stopped him. He gave her look saying he is fine then rested his back against the bed.

"Mai theek hu Zin.... Meherunnisa" He stopped mid sentence, not knowing if she will like to be called Zindagi by him, after whatever he has done to her. Meherunnisa cried, when he stopped himself from calling her Zindagi.

“Kya karne ja rahe the tum?” she questioned with her voice heavy, “Kya tumne ek baar bhi apni zindagi aur apni beti ke baare me nahi socha?”

“Main thak gaya tha, Zindagi…” he said in a weak voice. “sabki narazgi seh seh kar.”

Nisa cupped his cheek gently. “Mirha ko tumhari zarurat hai, Issam.” 

His eyes widened slightly. “Tu..tumne uska naam Mirha rakha hai?”

She nodded,. “Maine kabhi socha hi nahi use kya naam du..”

He smiled faintly, for the first time, “Meri Mirha kaisi dikhti hai?”

“She looks like you but her eyes are like mine.” Nisa said softly. “Wait, I’ll bring her.”

She stood and walked quickly to the door. But as she tried to step in with the baby, the nurse stopped her.

“Baby is not allowed in the ICU, ma’am.”

Nisa sighed, disappointed. She handed back the baby to Saima and came back empty-handed.

Issam looked at her, eyes dimming again. “Accha hi hua Nisa, mere gande wujood se us paak zindagi ko dur rakho.”

His words hit her like a stone. “Aise mat kaho, Issam…”

“I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve you.”

Nisa sat beside him again. “Issam, forget everything. We will start new. Zindagi ne hume dusra mauka diya hai.”

But Issam shook his head, tears slipping from the corner of his eyes.

“Main tumhari maafi ke laayak nahi hoon. Aur tum mujhe doosra mauka dene ki baat kar rahi ho…”

His voice broke and he began crying loudly. The nurse came running, scolding Meherunnisa she sent her outside and after explaining his state to the doctor she gave him sedative. 

---

Tomorrow he’ll get discharged from the hospital. His parents wanted to take him back to the Haveli but he refused.

“Main wapas nahi jaaunga. Jahan mujhe tazlil kiya gya tha, mujhe dhakke mar kar nikala gya tha,”

“Beta, purani baato ko bhool jao,” Rauf said. “Hum sab ne galtiyan ki. Par ab sab kuch naya shuru karte hain.”

“Mujhe pehle wo sab lautaye jo mujhse chhina tha,“

 “Beta sab kuch tumhara hi to hai.” His father responded.

“Mujhe in lafzo pr yaqeen nhi raha, Papa. I want all my shares legally in my possession.” he replied coldly.

“Thik hai, Mai lawyer se keh kar papers banwata hu.”

“Tell the lawyer to make a will on my behalf, that Issam Rauf’s 55% possession belongs to his daughter and 35% to his wife, & remaining 10% will be donated after his death.” 

Hearing the word death again from Issam’s mouth, made Rauf Shaikh tense,“Khuda ka wasta hai Issam, ab kuch ulta sidha mat krna”

Issam chuckled at his worry. Seeing the conflict, his uncle stepped forward. “Issam tum mere flat mein raho jab tak tum thik nahi ho jate.”

After thinking for sometime he agreed. His uncle lives in another town. Meherunnisa’s parents have taken her back. A few days have passed but he barely spoke, ate or let anyone come near him, except his uncle. One morning he received mail and then silently he was gone from there, no one knew where he was.

—

After 4 months Meherunnisa received a letter from Issam.

To Issam’s Zindagi,

You want to give a second chance to our relation, to me, but darling I don't want to. 

I tried to kill you. If something had happened to you or the baby. I am not able to understand how can you think of giving a second chance to someone like me? A psycho like me doesn’t deserve love. A toxic man like me doesn't deserves you Meherunnisa. You never deserved my darkness, Nisa. You deserved a life full of light, joy and safety.

I couldn't become a good son, good brother, or a good husband. But after one glance of Mirha I have a wish to hold her but for that I have to become a good father and for that I have to become a good human, good servant of my Lord. In the hospital a Psychiatrist has given me a briefing on how to live my life after this second chance. So I have came to a rehabilitation centre. I don’t know when I’ll return. I don’t even know how much time it’ll take to become a better man but I’ll return soon to hold my daughter.

If someday, somewhere you found someone who will brighten up your colorful life, just mail me. I’ll come and free you. I could’ve given you divorce before leaving, but I am not that strong enough to let go of you Zindagi. But maybe in future it won't be that soul ripping to throw me out of your life.

Keep loving my Mirha on my behalf as well and tell her that her father loves her very much.

Only Yours Issam 

Tears rolled down her chubby cheeks while reading the words on the letter. She bought the letter close to her chest and close her eyes to feel his presence through the letter he has send.

"Issam tum kaise apni zindagi se dastbardar ho sakte ho?" She whispered to him in mind.

She looked at her daughter who was lying in her baby cot playing with her fingers.

……………….

Epilogue 

Five Years Later

It has been 34 hours since Issam returned to India from Al-Noor Rehabilitation Centre, Uzbekistan. His days there were spent in therapy sessions, meditation, attending Islamic lectures, praying, understanding the Quran, and Nights were spent in asking for Allah's forgiveness and Mercy, and writing journal entries. In this five years, he has not contacted anyone but occasionally wrote letters to Meherunnisa.

Since his return, he was staying in the hotel close to the town, where his wife and  daughter are living. 

After offering his Fajar Namaz, he went to a nearby small restaurant to have breakfast. Afterwards he headed towards his destination.

Sitting in the cab, he put his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes, there was a faint smile on his lips.

"Kya sitam hai tera, Zindagi, Jab jeena nahi chahta tha, toh jeene pe majboor kar diya. Ab jeena chahta hoon, toh itni kam mohlat di hai mujhe."

It was nearly the time of Zuhr when he reached. As he walked toward her house, he witnessed the most beautiful scene of his life.

In the aangan, four girls of Mirha’s age were playing together and it took him just moments to recognise his Mirha. On the nearby cot Meherunnisa along with her younger sister Maliha were doing Mukaish work on the white fabric.

For a second, all this felt like a dream to him. Composing himself he stepped towards them. 

“Mirha…” the name came out of his mouth with ease and Meherunnis turned towards the gate and that's when their gaze collided.

“Assalamu Alaikum!” he said swallowing back his tears.  That voice was enough to pause Meherunnisa's everything. She tried to answer but no words come out.

“Issam?” she breathed still in disbelief. His heart was screaming to him, to go and hold his Zindagi in his arms but he just passed a smile to her. He didn’t make any advances towards her. How could he, he was her culprit, destroyer of her dreams.

“Ammi, mere Papa…?” Mirha said, blinking like she was trying to match his face with the images Meherunnisa used to show her. And Meherunnisa nodded with tears in her eyes. 

He went near her and dropped his bag there. “Meri jaan, Meri Mirha.” He bent down and took her in his arms for the first time. His heart was bowing with gratitude towards His lord, for blessing him with His Rehmah.

Mirha’s tiny hands clutched his shoulders and her cheek pressed against his neck.

“Mere Papa..” she whispered again and Issam held her tighter, shutting his eyes to hide the flood of emotions occurring in his eyes.

Ab meri saansein sukun se thamegi. Then he kissed her forehead, her eyes later her cheeks and every part of her face.

It was merely 3 minutes to the father daughter union when the Zuhr Azaan echoed. Then the heart soothing moment ceased. 

Kissing her forehead for one more time he gently put Mirha down.

She looked up at him with confusion waving in her eyes. “Papa, aap ja rahe hai?” her voice wobbled.

He smiled and wiped her tears, kissing her cheeks again. “I’ll come back. Bas 15 minute de do apne papa ko. Namaz ka waqt hai.”

She held his legs, crying. “Nahi, Papa abhi mat jao. Abhi toh aaye…”

“Meri Beti Namaz padhti hai? He bent at her level and hugged her once more. She nodded her head innocently. “Thik hai fir Namaz padho. Papa bhi Namaz padh kar jald waapis aayenge.” 

She finally nodded and went to her mother. And he turns leaving behind his precious pieces of heart to bow in front of the One who gave him the chance to feel them.

Issam stepped outside the gate but something stopped him. He turned back, there Meherunnisa was still standing silently but her eyes were fixed on him.

He kept looking at her with keen interest and then he closed his eyes, like he was capturing her face in his eyes.

“Zindagi…” His voice was hoarse yet not loud.

 “Main jaanta hu mai kabhi tumhare layak nahi tha na hi tumhari maafi ke layak hu. Par agar kabhi tumharq dil ijazat de to mujhe maaf kar dena, mere har galat amal ke liye. Aur ho sake to Khuda se meri bakhshish ki ilteja karna.”

There was a pause and then her voice came, it was trembling and cracked.

“Mai pehle hi tumhe maaf kar chuki hoon, Issam. Aur tum bhi mujhe maaf krdo, mujhse bhi galti hui thi, Mai kon hoti thi tumhari aulad ko marne wali.” 

Issam’s eyes became watery, ”Tumne meri aulad ko is duniya me la kar mujhe apna maqrooz kar diya hain. Ye qarz mai kabhi utar nahi sakunga.”

And then he signaled towards her and his daughter with his right hand and kept it over his heart lightly, and then bought it near his lips and blew a kiss towards her.  And turned around instantly with a heavy heart.

………………….

Inside the Masjid, everyone was gathered to pray. He saw Meherunnisa’s father talking to someone, standing in the second last row. He paid his salutation to him and the old man was happy yet shocked to see him, he replied to him with a nod of his head. Later Issam joined the last row.

Some people left the masjid after Fardh namaz but he was still there. To complete his remaining Sunnat and Nafil rakat

His every movement was slow. Not because his body was weak but because his soul wasn’t in a hurry. Not now after he had seen his daughter, heard his wife forgive him. Now, he had nothing left to chase in this world.

After completing his Namaz he was again in Sujood for Dua. He placed his forehead against the prayer mat whispering, 

“Rabbighfirli.” (My Lord forgive me)

His body was shaking badly with the intensity of his cries. Then his heart beat began to drop and in that final sujood, he was returned towards his Lord. Peacefully. Silently. Fully forgiven, in the most beautiful way. 

When his lifeless body collapsed on the ground. Meherunnisa's father and some other men rushed forward but by the time they reached him, it was already too late. His legs were cold and the body was losing its warmth gradually.

Her father called him, shook him, but there was no answer from his side but just a lifeless calm on his face with a content smile.

…………………..

It was already three days to his departure to his final abode.

His family came there for his last rite and afterwards they were gone, handing over Issam's will to Meherunnisa. 

Three days since little Mirha was asking, again and again,"Papa kahan gaye?"

Unlike before, Meherunnisa did not have an answer to her questions this time. 

She came to her room to put sleeping Mirha on bed when her eyes fell on his bag. She hadn’t touched his bag. It was still lying in the corner of her room like it was waiting for his return but he wouldn’t.

After putting the comforter over Mirha she bought his bag near the bed and unzipped it slowly.

Inside there were a few of his clothes, a small quran Kanzul Iman, a tasbeeh, a bottle of attar, a velvet box, a medical file and a diary.

She picked it up with utmost care and opened the first page.

“Main Issam Rauf Shaikh duniya ki rangeeni me itna kho gaya tha ki maine apne rab ko bhula diya. Is pur sukun jagah me aaj mujhe phir yaad dila gaya mujhe kya banna tha aur mai kya ban gya hu.”

He was not there to narrate his story but his diary was doing its job perfectly. His transformation journey was so painfully peaceful that she kept turning the pages. 

Meri therapy complete hogyi hai puri tarah se, par abhi mujhme himmat nhi hai apno ko face krne ki. Mai Mirha ko dekhne k liye taras raha hu, par abhi mujhe aur intezar karna haim 

“Meri tabiyat kafi dino se na saaz thi. Maine parso kuch test karaye the doctor k kehne pe aur aj unka results aaya hai. Mujhe Liver cirrhosis, stage four hai aur Doctor ne kaha hai mere pas zyada waqt nahi hai. 

Pehle mai dar gaya tha phir ek khayal ne mujhe pursukun krdiya. Shayad yeh Allah ka tareeqa hai kehna ka, tu bezar tha na duniya se to aaja ab teri azmaishe khtm krte hai.”

“Maine wapas jane ka socha hai, ab maut itne qareeb hai to mai apni biwi, apni beti ka chehra apni aankhon me basa kr hamesha k liye aankhein band krna chahta hu. Isse pehle mujhe maut gale laga le, mai apni zindagi ko, apni jaan ko, apne seene se lagana chahta hu. Unke sath jeene ki mohlat nhi mili to kya unhe dekh ke marne ki mohlat to de hi sakti hai na zindagi.”

She read his final entry. By the time she closed the diary, her hands were trembling.

“Issam, tumhe mujhse mulaqat ki fursat mili bhi to kab, jab daimi furqat hamare bich likhi ja chuki thi”

Kissing his diary she opened the small velvet box.

Issam, tum bahot khushnaseeb the, jo Khuda ne tumko dusra mauka diya tha apni Duniya nhi balki apni aakhirat sanwarne ka. 

Inside the box there was a beautiful small silver ring and two silver chains with one with her name, and another one with Mirha’s. She hugged the box to her heart and a flood of emotions erupted in her eyes.

Issam tumhare kitab e hayat ka tragic epilogue meri adhoori kahani ko bahot buri tarah se mutasir karta rahega. Issam mujhe tumhare sath fairytale chahiye thi tumne mujhe Tragedy de di.

THE END