Tum dena saath mera
تم دینا ساتھ میرا

The wind picked up again as the night began to settle in, leaving a clear sky jewelled with twinkling stars. The hot scorching sun, like my heart, had blazed the sky all afternoon, but as it sank lower into the horizon it's dying rays were touched with a hint of coolness, and I found a sense of composure beginning to drum within me.

My family would soon be here and despite the inner turmoil raging within me like a wild tempest, I had to force a smile on my face for them to see. The last thing I wanted was to overburden them with concerns and worries of their daughter's troubled marriage.

The day had passed with languid slowness, and each moment was a war between pain and joy. Ever since Aliyaar left this morning, my mind had been at the mercy of conflicting emotions, that were beginning to cripple me from the inside, trapping me in a cobweb of paralysing and confusing thoughts. I was seeking answers, yet I did not know what the questions were. Once again I was lost. Lost in my own feelings.

My mind was a blur. My thoughts were jumbled together like a tangled ball of yarn, but from that tangled knot of emotions I had been able to extract a single crucial thread. My world was now centred around him. I might be lost, but I knew he was my home. And no matter how long it took, I had to find my way back. I will find my way back. I only hoped it wouldn't be too late.

I sighed uneasily at the thought, and then turned around to look at the arrangements one final time. I had spent much of the afternoon helping the chefs in the kitchen. The chefs and the kitchen help were a kind bunch of experienced workers, who ran the kitchens like a well oiled machine. I was probably an unwelcome distraction in the kitchen, but despite that they had been nothing but accomodating. I had mostly just helped out with the dishes, but the bowl of kheer that sat in front of me was something I had prepared myself. Something I had prepared especially for him.

The kitchens were stifling. Smoke and aromas swirled in unending circles around the ceiling, perfuming the room with an inviting scent. Miraal walked in, dressed in a baby pink silk taffeta dress with an oversized bow wrapped around the waist. Her hair was held up in a sleek ponytail, only to further accentuate her high cheekbones and the angular structure of her face. She was a sight for sore eyes and for a moment I was almost happy for Shehryar. They both made a good pair.

I had only offered her a hello, when Shehryar followed her inside the kitchen, coming in to stand besides her. He seemed relaxed, his posture easy and composed. But I could read his eyes, those deep oceans of blue that glistened with concern and skepticism. Shehryar had readily accepted my invitation this morning, but the surprise on his face upon seeing me in his room had been unmissable. Unlike Aliyaar, Yaar had mastered the art of keeping his emotions wildly in check, so I was rather surprised at the shock that painted his face earlier this morning.

"Did you make all of this by yourself?" Miraal asked, subtle admiration underlining her tone.

"I've mostly just helped."

"Shanzae is an excellent cook though." Shehryar piqued in and then munched upon the cucumbers from the salad bowl. "I still remember how she baked me cookies in the middle of a party at her house." We both laughed at the memory.

"Mom nearly disowned me, when she saw the chocolate all over my dress." I shook my head trying to wipe the memory from my mind and then turned to Yaar. "We even made pasta once." Yaar offered me a playful nod, and I couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance between the two brothers. But more than their features, it was their mannerisms that were acutely similar. The same shake of the head, the same subtle smile, the same clenching of the brows.

"What is your brother doing?" I asked Yaar, as my mind wandered back to him. "Is he back?"

"My brother or your husband?" Yaar teased, his eyes sparkled as we both eased into the conversation. Despite the initial awkwardness, nothing felt forced or distant like it had just days ago. Ever since my wedding, today was probably the first time I had attempted a civil conversation with Yaar. And while it pained me to admit, I did miss my friend.

A blush rose up my cheeks, but I replied in a levelled tone, "I didn't know my husband and your brother were two different people."

"Oh but they are," he shrugged dismissively. "He is a changed man. My brother would have still been at the office, working on some boring file. But your husband, would be in his room, getting ready for a dinner."

I frowned. "So is he in his room or office?" After everything that happened I suddenly wasn't sure if he'd attend the dinner.

"What do you think?"

"Stop teasing her." Miraal interjected, perhaps concerned over my sullen mood. "We just saw him go over to his room." She said with a comforting smile and a suggestion of a smile played upon Shehryar's lips.

I expelled a quick breath and then picked up the bowl of kheer from the counter. "I'll be right back." I said hurriedly. I had to meet him before everyone arrived.

"Where is my kheer?" Shehryar stepped in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. A glint of mischief shone in his eye and his tone almost sounded teasing. He looked down at the bowl in my hand and then reached for it with a spoon.

My face froze in horror, before I quickly spun on my heels and pulled the bowl away from him. "This is for him!" I cried fiercely in alarm. I don't ever remember being so protective of my food. "You will get yours at dinner. This is for Aliyaar only."

Shehryar stared back at me in perplexity and then smiled knowingly. "But he doesn't eat dessert before dinner." His features contorted with amusement at my protective stance. My brows met together in a frown as his reasoning settled in. Aliyaar barely ate dessert and if ever he did, it was only after dinner. My heart dropped at the thought. Would he not eat this? "Can I have some then?" My thoughts died hearing Yaar's words and I turned to him thoughtfully.

I had my eyes cast down demurely, looking at the bowl in contemplation. I thought for a while and then shook my head. "No! You can have anything from the table, but not this." I pointed towards the table laden with all types of delicacies and desserts. "This is for Aliyaar only."

When I looked up, Miraal giggled behind us and Shehryar wore a vague smile. "I have never seen you so confused Shanzae." Miraal said, and if the look on her face was any indication, she was enjoying the scene. "You do realise he is joking with you."

"Except that I'm not." Shehryar protested in jest.

My eyes narrowed at him in disapproval. "It's just— I've never said no to Yaar." I admitted honestly. Something stirred deep within his eyes and even though he strained them away from me, I had been quick to catch a fleeting emotion at my candid admission. Whether it was guilt or remorse, I couldn't tell. "But I made this for—"

"I'm sorry."

The words were simple and plain yet something about them felt honest and heartfelt. His voice had turned strangely quiet and all traces of humour had long evaporated from his tone. He hastily took a step back, as he tried to rearrange his face in more placid lines.

Reading the true meaning of his words, I blinked in acknowledgment. My eyes darted towards Miraal, who was standing besides us, watching the exchange with mounting curiosity. But wanting no further show, I turned back to Shehryar and replied casually, "The offer still stands. You can have anything from that table."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I was just joking. I'm sure Bhai would appreciate this very much."

"Yes, I would." Aliyaar's distinct booming voice battered from behind us. "And I would also appreciate you not trying to steal my food and finishing your work on time." He walked in, wearing a fitted polo shirt and a brown pair of khaki pants. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and his hair lay on his head in an unruly mob. My eyes caught his and I smiled, my eyes lightening up at the sight of him. His hands clutched onto a red coloured file.

"Bhai— I." Shehryar voice trailed into nothing and colour drained from his face as his eyes focussed upon the file. Aliyaar held the file out for Shehryar, his face serious and unamused. He opened his mouth to say something, when Shehryar quickly interrupted him. "Bhai, inn dono ke samne kuch maat bolyega. I promise, you'd have the file on your desk tomorrow morning. Dono mera mazak bana deingi."

"The board meeting is tomorrow afternoon. I better have the files on my desk first thing in the morning." His voice was stern, almost unforgiving. I flinched at his tone, but a realisation soon settled in. His voice, his manners, his words were all disturbingly serious and steely when he talked to others. But where I was concerned he was a different man. Loving, gentle and caring. "You can't neglect work for a dinner."

"Says the man who left early to attend the very same dinner." Shehryar sulked, taking file from Aliyaar's hands and skimming over its content.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the corner of Aliyaar's lips. "I had no desire to spend the night in the dog-house."

The golden threads of his irises glowed with humour, before he walked over to stand besides me. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, his fingers brushing against my bare skin. I was wearing a black off-shoulder dress with yellow flowers dotted across the fabric.

"You make me sound like one of those crazy wives." I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, my cheeks burning up at the intimacy of the touch.

He laughed and sneakily snaked his arm around my waist, well concealed from the eyes of the other occupants of the room. "Anyone would vouch for your craziness, darling." I froze in shock when his thumb pressed into my side and began to draw lazy circles on my waist. Despite the thin fabric of my dress separating us, I felt his fingers burn me with their fervent touch. A small smirk twitched upon the corner of his lips and his eyes lit up, enjoying my reaction.

"I concur!" Shehryar raised his hand in agreement. "She once almost threw me in the swimming pool because I refused to listen to Taylor Swift. Mind you it was in the middle of winter." Aliyaar eyes widen at his words, before he turned to me with an incredulous unbelieving look.

I almost gasped aloud in the shock of the unexpected memory. My face blazed with heat. "I was fifteen, Shehryar!" I cried out in my defence. "And you were behaving like such an ass that night."

"It's a pity you didn't throw him in the pool." Miraal piqued in. "Because I would have. How can anyone not like Taylor Swift?"

I gave her a half smile, "Don't worry, I did topple a glass of water over his head." I gave her an evil smile. My eyes shone with mischievous excitement that had Aliyaar looking me in horror.

"You concern me sometimes," Aliyaar intoned.

Just then a servant came running inside to inform us that Ahmed uncle was calling for Shehryar. Shehryar and Miraal nodded and followed him out of the kitchen. Aliyaar too turned to leave, but I stood back, my eyes glancing down at the bowl of kheer I had prepared for him. Perhaps, after dinner I thought.

"Let's eat this in our room?" I looked up and saw him waiting for me at the threshold of the kitchen. A soft smile lingered on his face and his expressions was filled with understanding. "I have something for you too." At once, my volatile spirits shot up from the deepest depression to excited happiness and I hurriedly followed him.

"I have been thinking all afternoon." I turned to him once we were inside our room. "I have behaved a little irrationally over the past few months. But I couldn't help my emotions. I felt hurt and betrayed. I was angry— so angry." I shuddered as the memories came rolling in like a giant wave, threatening to destroy everything with its unbridled strength. "I realised that although I moved on, some part of me still hung onto the past." I kept the bowl on the table and shifted closer to him. "But it wasn't because I had regrets for what I chose or I still wanted that life, it's just I find it hard to forgive."

I reached out and cupped his face with the palm of my left hand. The pad of thumb grazed the stubble of his jaw, enjoying the sensation, pointy and abrasive. I traced my right hand up his chest, feeling his muscles tense behind the thick weave of his shirt. "But I will try. I promise I will. I'm trying but it's not easy." I continued softly, but the depth of emotions in my voice had Aliyaar shoot a searching glance at me. His arms snaked around my waist and he pulled me into him.

He remained silent, but his eyes spoke.

Understanding roamed his eyes and the lines of his face fell into a comforting expression. None of the emotions from this morning plagued his face any longer. Silence and serenity. His hold tightened and his fingers dug into me, holding me steady against his hardened chest. A gasp escaped me and my lips parted at the proximity. I tried to move, but his hand pressed against the small of my back and I felt myself arch into him.

My breath hitched, when I saw him peering down at my lips, his intentions clear as day. A slow train of warmth began to light though my veins and steal through my body till I was a quivering mess in his arms. The fire he had ignited began to burn my soul. The warm kindly fire that could melt even the iciest of hearts. He edged closer and his warm breath caressed my cheeks. I shuddered, a thrilling shiver ricochetting through my spine as I inhaled his scent, the heady mix of mint and spice.

My eyes rolled shut and my arms snaked around his neck, pulling him into my embrace. I was so close to him, so inexorably close to him. It all felt like a dream. A fragrant beautiful dream. Yet it was the reality.

I was home. Here. In his arms. This was home.

The sweet twilight silence pressed upon us and a blanket of warmth cocooned us in its embrace. For a moment, there was no sound except the soft tingling of my bracelet when I ran my hand through the unruly thickness of his hair. Heat nestled in my stomach, when his lips grazed against base of my neck, the hair of his beard feeling surprisingly pleasant against the sensitive skin.

"I'm sorry, baby." I heard him say, before he pressed another feather like kiss on my neck. "I shouldn't have pressurised you, when I already knew it wasn't your fault." He pulled back slightly and pushed the strands of my hair away from me to look at my face. "But I want to thank you for trying."

A delighted smile broke on my lips, "You know I'd do anything for you." 

"Anything?" His eyes twinkled at my words and his brow rose in challenge.

I blushed and patted his chest in an attempt to move away from him. But his arms were still wound around me like a powerful unbreakable thread and he laughed at my coy reaction.

My eyes fell upon the bowl on the table and I suddenly remembered why we had come here. "Meine apke liye Kheer banai thi. I know you don't eat dessert before dinner but—"

"Khilado."

His arms loosened from around my form and my face brightened at his words. I turned to lift the bowl to him, scooped a dollop into the spoon and held it up to his lips. "You've become a baby ever since we've gotten married." I smiled as I spoke, consciously fluttering my bristly black lashes like the wings of a butterfly. "Saare kaam mujhe se karwate hain. Tie bhi mein pehnoon, khana bhi mein khilaon."

He held back the smile threatening to spill on his lips and took another bite. He swept his tongue over his lip as he took the last bite, his eyes faltering between by eyes and lips. "This was very good. Will you make it again?" He asked hopefully.

"For you? Of course I will." I beamed joyfully.

"I also bought you something. Close your eyes." I looked at him curiously before closing my eyes. I felt him hold onto my shoulders as he carefully guided us through our room. And then his hands left me and I felt him going through the contents of a drawer. With each passing second, my curiosity rose yet I patiently waited.

The sound died and I felt him behind me. He reached up and coiled my dark straight hair, pushing it to the side and hanging them over my shoulder. Cool air kissed the exposed skin of my nape, before it melted under the heat of his touch. His fingers caressed the skin with their withering touch, light and feather like. I shivered at the feel his skin against mine. I felt him press against me, my back pressed against his hardened chest, before he leaned down and kissed the crown of my head. His fingers still brushed against my neck and then something cool fasten around my neck. Unwittingly, my fingers skimmed over the thin strand of necklace clasped around my neck and my eyes sprung open.

"This is—" my words died as my fingers traced the string of diamonds across my neck. My lips parted in surprise as I took in the reflection in the mirror. "Thank you, Aliyaar." I spun on my heels and closed my arms around him. "I love it." I mumbled into his chest.

"Take your time Shanzae. Forget what I said this morning— it was a moment of weakness." I heard him say, his face pressed on top of my head. "I hope we can put this behind us."

His hands slipped down the curve of my sides as he drew me in. He slowly leaned into me like a blurred dream and my heart began to pound in my chest. Despite the frigid air swirling around us, my body was burning under his touch. And then a wave of darkness washed over me, as his lips pressed onto mine. Despite the languid slowness with which his mouth move against mine, I felt my world explode into shards of molten light. The sweet scent of his, the warmth of our hearts and the plain joy of our togetherness melted into a breathless moment. In his kiss, he promised he a lifetime of love. In his kiss I was home.

➰➰➰

After dinner we all shifted to the main lounge. It was a large stately hall where the Chaudhry family hosted all of its important guests. The floor was immense, patterned with the expensive black Italian marble. The high walls were lined with dark panels which were accented with gold rims running across their length. Safina aunty's collection of several carefully selected art pieces adorned the walls and shelves of the hall. Giant chandeliers hung from the ceilings, just above the sofa sets. Scrumptious fabrics, rich and luxurious to the touch littered the seating area in muted shades of black and grey. Unlike Lal Mahal, there was nothing traditional or antique about this house.

The fresh scent of jasmines and lavender perfumed the air with their intoxicating smell.

I came to sit besides Aliyaar, who was emerged in a serious conversation with my father, but despite that he was quick to lace his fingers with mine. The action, although subtle, was not missed by the observant eyes of my mother, who smiled at me contently. It was after a while that I had finally seen my family so relaxed and  happy. The night eased into easy conversation. While men discussed politics and business, the women indulged in fashion and upcoming events.

"Aliyaar Bhai has good choice," Layla said with a smile. I turned to Layla with a confused expression, who only smiled back. Hearing his name, Aliyaar too turned towards us.

"If by choice you're referring to your sister, then I don't have a good choice—," I turned to him with a frown, "I've a great choice."

All the women laughed hearing that, while I blushed with a crimson shade of red straining my face. "But I was referring to the necklace. It's beautiful." She reached out and traced her fingers over the neck piece.

"How did you know Aliyaar gifted it?"

"You never buy jewellery." Her brows shrivelled together at the obvious information and she shook her head in disappointment. "Let alone diamonds."

I pursed my lips sheepishly. She knew me well. But when Layla pulled her hand back, I couldn't help but notice the missing engagement ring on her finger. "Where is your ring Layla?"

There was silence for a moment, and my heart sank at my mother's withdrawn face. Her cheeks paled and all happiness that shone on her face moments ago disappeared into thin air. Layla remained unmoved, her face devoid of any emotion before she spoke in a distant aloof tone, "I returned it."

A piece of my heart broke.

There was so much I wanted to say, so  much I wanted to tell her, yet words failed me. My sister was hurting and perhaps somewhere I was the reason. But before my emotions got the better of me, I felt Aliyaar squeeze my hand in an attempt to comfort me. I looked up and saw him looking towards my father, but from the twitch of his vein I knew he had heard our conversation. And I knew it had hurt him too.

My father abruptly paused his conversation as Layla's words settled within him. He took another sip of his tea hoping it would clear his head. Unlike my mother, who seemed to have noticed the development in Layla and Zaroon Bhai's relationship, the news had come as a surprise to my father. He cast his eyes at Layla's face, the light from the lamp shade flickering over his sorrowful face, his observant eyes were full of sympathy as if he saw this coming.

Layla didn't give any further explanation neither did I have the heart to ask. I could only hope time would heal her broken heart. I hesitantly glanced a look towards her, but I was surprised to see how serene her face was. While my mind felt overburdened with emotion at the new information, it seemed to me Layla had braced herself for the worst. A small smile touched her lips— there was no need for words. Her eyes gleamed like shards of obsidian, silently telling everyone that she might need support, but certainly not sympathy.

Zayan and Aliyaar watched her carefully, their dark gaze focussed on her. When they did not say anything, she opened her mouth— and spoke.

"How is the campaign going, Aliyaar Bhai?"

Dad cleared his throat at her question and every eye in the room shifted towards him. He scanned the room as if deliberating whether to continue or not.

"Close the door and leave." Shehryar said to the butler who was serving tea. The man quickly straightened and nodded his head before hastily departing the room. At this, Miraal too excused herself and left. My father eased back into his seat and took a deep puff of the cigar in his hand.

"The first rally is next week. You will only get one chance to make an impression." He glanced at Aliyaar. "You only have one week to prepare."

"One week. Seven days." Aliyaar replied slowly.

Dad's eyes flicked calmly, carefully, to mine and Aliyaar's, "I know what you've been doing in the South. But it's remarkable what you've achieved in a small time. The Hindus and Christians run deep pockets and together they hold 10 minority seats. But it is better to not divulge too much into religious politics."

"Dada Jaan has disregarded minorities for way too long. It was not surprising when the offer for a little security is all it took to convince them." Aliyaar replied in a cool tone. "Mazhab par siyasat karna jitna mushkil hai, utna hi asan bhi."

[using religion in the name of politics is as hard as it is easy.]

"Your policies and prepositions are being well received within the business community. You're already good friends with a lot of industrialists and businessmen in the country. I don't see you needing any help from me there." Dad said taking another deep puff of his cigar. "But what concerns me is your interactions with the powerful mafias and the underworld."

Aliyaar stilled for a moment, but then relaxed into his seat. "They're members of the National Assembly. Seasoned politicians."

"They're in jail." Dad exclaimed. "Seasoned criminals."

A smile twitched on Aliyaar's lips. "Voters have rational incentives to back such politicians. These men have the money, the network and the support from their local communities."

"Our party has for years campaigned against such men. We have vouched to bring black money back into the economy." Dad said thoughtfully. "Why on earth would you want to meddle with such people."

After a few minutes of silence, Aliyaar spoke calmly, "Ibrahim uncle has been seeking their support for a while now. Last election it was your own party that dissolved their court cases against such men to win the by-elections."

Dad's forehead creased in frustration, before he released a deep breath. "You've studied us too well." He spoke with a hint of sadistic humour. "But you need to tread carefully. These are dangerous water."

"I will be."

Dad's lips twisted into a proud calculative smile. Aliyaar's eye glimmered with the same ambition that was had been burning within my father for years now. He turned to Shehryar and beckoned him towards the door. Shehryar nodded dutifully before he left to bring in a file.

"This is a list of people who have supported your party for the longest time. However, since the last few years many have had grievances which haven't been addressed." Aliyaar said, as he handed the documents to Dad and Zayan. Dad adjusted his glasses over his eyes, before scanning the documents.

"How on earth did you get all this information?" A surprised exclamation burnt Dad's face. Mom and Layla exchanged a concerned look with me before we turned back towards the men. "But—" dad paused thoughtfully, "these men have been loyal to Abba's cause for years. It would be difficult to convince them to support someone else."

"I don't want them to support someone else," Aliyaar said, much to our confusion. "After all, I'm also supporting Dada Jaan." A lazy smirk twisted on the corner of his lips. "The world has to know I'm with the party not against it." He wanted to be seen as the son not the son in law.

Dad and Zayan exchanged a satisfied look. "Even if it's difficult for me to convince them, I'm sure it's not hard for you." Aliyaar finished, taking a sip of his drink.

But at this, dad's brows puckered together. "What you ask of me is not easy."

"It's not." Aliyaar nodded in agreement. "But only you can convince party members. Dada Jaan will only be convinced if he feels threatened."

"It's a big risk."

"But it's our only chance, Dad." Zayan added. "Otherwise we might just lose everything."

"We would only be risking, if we do not know what we're doing." Aliyaar tried to reassure. "I need your support."

"And you have it." Dad said. "But unless everyone in the party knows that Ibrahim Bhai will not be contesting the election, it will be very difficult to gain their support."

There was silence for a moment, before Aliyaar spoke in a measured tone. "If I have your blessings, the whole world would know on Friday."

What will Aliyaar do?

I cannot wait for the next update! It's soo important and exciting. I hope you all liked today's update. Do let me know your thoughts.

Bekhudi got selected in many categories including Romance, New Adult and Best Female lead in the WattPak_2020 Awards. It would mean the world to me if you all could spare a moment and go vote.
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