Chapter 6.

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Arham's blood pumped with adrenaline. He could no longer feel the sleeplessness weigh him down, the pressure that tightened his chest because of the stress no long seemed to affect him. Gulping half of the water bottle down, he slammed it on to his table inside the tent, spilling some on to the white cloth. The plastic bottle was crumpled from the force of his hand, a disappointed sigh escaped his lips. A team of their party's public relations section thronged beside him, reading out pointers from their fine printed pages explaining what could be said and what could not.

His assistant nodded in his direction, motioning for him to leave and walk towards the container that served as todays stage. He took confident steps on the soil, his gaze lowered on grassy floor. Arham had high hopes for today's rally, he had read the words of his speech more than once, he felt he was ready. Soil filled his vision, whizzing out of place as drones and helicopters flew above to give coverage to the place. He climbed the stairs, wiping the particles out of his eyes before sliding his sunglasses on to his nose bridge, waving at the crowd.

The people of Lahore roared, cheering loud their hands up in the air as they saw the son of their leader take the stage. As the rush wore off of their bodies they seemed to realize that Alamgeer Ahad was nowhere to be seen, frowns replaced their once mighty smiles and a few voiced their claims of disappointment. His hawk like gaze did not miss a single reaction, his lips twitched, the urge to scowl at them was greater than anything. One last minister was busy speaking to the crowds his voice was drowned out by the uproar.

"Arham do you know why your father is missing?" A party member patted his shoulder.

"I do, yes."

"We would have never expected him to show such nonsense attitude, especially at his son's first rally." Another man spoke inside his ear.

"You've known my father for years, it's disappointing you still don't know the kind of man he is!" He replied with a grin on his face.

Arham took a deep breath, resting both his hands over his heart as a few elderly women threw air kisses his way. The people of his country were vibrant, so full of life, so beyond extraordinary. It was a shame that a long line of people, so many generations had undermined them. Exploited them until their warm hearts and once warm kitchens had nothing more than love to give, and even then they parted with it with large smiles on their faces.

"Are you ready?"

A voice asked, he felt the life leave his legs. His ears buzzed, his hands waved at the air as a bee flew in to his vision. He slid his hand along the metal railing, making sure to not add a lot of weight lest he topple the makeshift railing over. Arham took place in front of the podium, he took off his sunglasses replacing them with his prescription ones. Smiling at the crowd, staring dead in to the eye of one of the camera's, hoping his parents were watching him from the hospital room of his brother.

"Alamgeer! Alamgeer! Alamgeer!"

The crowd chanted for the man that had served them for most of his life. They threw their hands in the air, screaming so loud their faces turned red. Arham held back the disappointment that clawed at his throat with sharp nails. He tapped the microphone head, placing his speech on the clear podium, taking a deep breath before he greeted the crowd. His voice was eerily familiar to his father's. At least to his ears it was. He felt like he was back in time, when there was no Arham Alamgeer but instead, Alamgeer Ahad who had with his words and sincerity won the people over.

"Kaisay hain meray Lahori bhaio aur behno?" [How are you my Lahori brother's and sister's?]

He drawled his voice, waving at the crowd with his left hand. He fixed his mic with the tip of his finger, breathing slowly. A fire uncurled itself in his veins, confidence took over his shaky voice as he started once more. Grinning, pausing his speech for a second as a young boy screamed words of love at him. As the replies died down, greeting him he started with the words he had written. It took him three days to select the perfect words, he hoped, they would not fall short.

"Ap nai itnay saal meray walid ki himayat ki hai, mein maafi mangta hun ap sab sai, keh woh aaj hum sab keh beech mein shamil nahi hain."
[You have for so many years loved my father, I apologize to you all, that he is not present between us today.]

The cheers were louder than they had ever been as he mentioned his father.

"Aj tak mein ap logon keh liye apnay walid ka beta raha hun, magar aaj sai mein ap sab ka bhai aur beta hun!"
Until today I have been for you people the son of my father, however from today I am the son and brother of all of you!]

His words warmed the already hot air, an electrifying buzz filled the crowd as they jumped off of their feet. The country, thrived off of relationships. They wanted perpetual proof of why someone would do them good. And what better way to make them believe than to reinstate a spiritual belief, a relationship of a son and brother was the most pious one. Reason enough for him to hold good intentions.

"Iss mulk keh phool jaisay logon!"
[The flower like people of this country!] He grinned at the crowd.

"Iss mulk keh phool jaisay logon ap sab ka haq hai keh ap keh wazir e azam keh mun sai bhi sirf phool jharain, na keh woh ghaleez ilfaz jin ka yeh istemal kartay hain". He said.
[The flower like people of this country you deserve a prime minister who speaks words that are like flowers, not ones as disgusting as the kind he uses.]

That was strike one, he was making sure that the opposition knew he would not be won over with their hefty gifts. He had and always would stand by his father's team even if that meant never getting to win a general election.

"Yeh jo zulm ap par kia gaya hai, ab waqt hai uska hisaab lenay ka. Ap ko, iss mulk ki awaam ko ab apni adalat khud lagani ho gi!"
[This injustice that has been done on you, now is the time to weigh it. You, the people of this nation need to put the court up yourself!]

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"Ap keh jazbaat sai khilwar ab aur qabool nahi kiya jaye ga. Iss qoum ki maun ka haq hai keh woh apnay beton ko kamiyab dekhain. Iss qoum ki beti ka haq hai ko woh mehfooz mehsoos maray. Iss qoum kay betay ka haq hai keh woh halal rozi kama sakay. Iss qoum kay baap ka haq hai keh burhapy mein bhi khud mukhtar ban sakay!"
[We will no longer accept people playing with your emotions. This nation's mother deserves to see her son successful. This nation's daughter deserves to feel safe. This nation's son deserves to earn a legal earning. This nation's father deserves to stand up on his own feet even in their old age!]

Azmaray looked at the screen, the nine pm talk shows were continuously airing Arham's blood curdling speech. It had evoked in everyone's heart a feeling of nationalism long since forgotten. He wanted to ring Alamgeer up and applaud him for the way he had prepared his son for the rally. It was highly unfortunate though, that rather than focusing on his thought evoking words the media was busy picking up at the absence of his father and his grandfather.

"But the fact remains Azhar that his family was missing." The anchorperson, grilled Arham's lawyer and the parties spokesperson.

"I understand Hareem however, that's not what we need to focus on. Shouldn't we all look at him as a politician? The way he spoke and worked with the crowd?"

"Azhar sahab, ap apna zor laga lein magar yeh baat tou paaki hai keh daal mein kuch kala hai!" [Azhar sir you can use all your force but one thing is for sure that all isn't okay!] Haider Ilyas quipped.

"This is a private family matter, it will all be revealed as soon as the family is ready Haider sir, you don't need to worry!"

Engrossed in the television, he failed to notice the frown on his daughter's face as she sat by him. Her legs had been pulled under her body, an arm thrown over the couch. She poked his cheek, her eyes filled with tears as she stared at him with disappointment.

"Palar sara din ap tv dekhtay hain, mujhe time kis nai dena hai?"
[Father you watch the tv all day, who will give me time?] She whined in protest.

"Filza what do you mean?" He turned to her, lowering the volume.

"You're always keeping up with what's happening. No one is home. Anbar tayi and Asgahr taya are holed up inside their bedroom ever since he retired. What about me? Meri kisi ko fikr hai keh nahi?" [Is anyone worried about me or not?] She spoke.

"I give my attention to my wife."

"Then find me a husband, I'm bored!"

Azmaray laughed at that, pulling her frame into her arms, kissing the top of her head. Filza sighed too, punching his bicep in protest before turning her attention to the television screen. They were playing a clip of Arham's speech again and again, on loop. The man was handsome, she thought to herself, blushing as she reprimanded herself for having such thoughts.

"Does little Fizzy pop have a crush?" Azmaray teased.

"Palar mein na — mein na mor ko bata dun gi!" [Father I'll — I'll tell mother!]

"She's seen and heard enough Filza. You want me to call Lyana khala?" Her mother, who had just stepped in the bedroom teased her.

"You guys tease me so much! This is not done! Not done at all!"

Filza jumped out of her father's warm embrace. Sliding her feet into the black slides that had just been delivered, she stormed out of her parents bedroom. Ever since her mother and aunt had told her the story of their youth, she had been transported into a land of fantasies. Her hair flew behind her back as she rushed through the corridors, the sounds of her senseless chatter filled the windows and cold marble statues.

In her fury she had forgotten to ask her father what she had gone for. Now going back into their bedroom was a risk she was not willing to take. She shuddered at the thought of the two acting all mushy with each other. Stepping into the large kitchen, her hands wandered to the bright red honey-crisp apple. Running it under the cold tap water, she gripped the sharp knife, cutting it into thin slices she smeared a heavy spoonful of peanut butter over the wooden serving plate, carrying it to her library.

"Filza." Her aunt's voice stopped her mid-step.

"Tayima, everything alright?"

"It's perfect. You on the other hand look a bit worried, all okay?"

Anbar walked closer, stealing an apple slice from the tray, she bit into it. The juicy apple was the perfect treat after the heavy dinner they had devoured an hour ago.

"All is okay. I just hate that we're always the centre of attention."

"What happened Filza?"

Anbar wrapped an arm around the young woman who seemed even more fragile. As if she were brittle and would break into two halves with the slightest of pressures.

"I — I keep seeing all these hate messages on my social media. I hate that these showbiz pages post my pictures, people send me messages, with all kinds of rude words. I don't like it!" She sniffed.

"Oh Filza! Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"Filza you're our little baby. Nothing is more important than you, why would you think like that?"

"It's just you guys all deserve to spend time with your spouse's without me worrying you!"

"Oh! Let me ask your uncle and father to find you a man then, how about that?" Anbar pinched her chin.

"Ta-yi!" She whined.

"Fear not Filza. I'll talk to your uncle, okay? He'll deal with it. You just be prepared to go to the CIA's office tomorrow".

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Hey!
Happy Sunday evening;)
I voted for the first time today and it was such a fun experience I must add.
I hope you enjoy this book, also a slight ray of hope :
I might end up doing daily updates after August/September alright?
Alright.

Love you guys.

Leave thoughts & prayers here.