Note: please read from the beginning and show some love. Comments and feedback are appreciated.

Jabtak jahan me subah shaam hai
Tab tak mere naam tu
Jabtak jahaan mein mera naam hai
Tab tak mere naam tu

جب تک جہاں میں صبح شام ہے تب تک میرے نام تو
جب تک جہاں میں میرا نام ہے تب تک میرے نام تو

3 months later

The sun lurched into the western horizon as the night flung its skeins of indigo and black on the slightly golden sky. I stood underneath the silver brilliance of the moonlight, basking in the coolness of the night, watching the pearly globe of the moon streaked by the wisps of thin clouds. As the chirps of the returning birds began to ebb away into the silence of the night, I turned to the darkening sky, holding my hands up in prayer. The night was cold and dry, embedded with a thousand twinkling stars, just like my life except that I felt robbed of any light in my life.

Every torturous second of the past three months had whispered in my ear that I would not be able to withstand the storm that had uprooted my life and shaken me to my core. Yet today as I stood here, staring into the wilderness, I knew I was the storm.

Clutching the duppatta to my chest, I moved to the mirror to make sure the growing little bulge around my belly was well concealed under the layers of fabric wrapped around me. But as I stood staring at my reflection, I barely recognised the person who stared back. I was no longer the Shanzae I once was. No longer the Shanzae I aspired to be. I was there, but I wasn't.

Smoke & Mirrors.

These past three months had taught me more about life than the twenty five years of my entire existence had. Yet here I was, still struggling to grapple with the reality of what my world had become. This was my legacy, this was my life. My fate and my destiny. There was no escape. There never was. Yet a part of me still craved a way out. An escape.

Shadows & Dreams.

I found myself looking in the mirror for much longer than I had expected, my eyes growing hard and dark. And the longer I stared the more difficult it was to recognise myself. I was no longer the princess who played with fawns and shuddered with fear at the roar of the lion, I was the queen who danced with fire and reigned over demons.

Despite the silence, I could see the tornado of fear drowning in my eyes slowly giving way to the fire. A fire so brilliant, it could burn the whole world with a single gash of its flame. My breath became shallow, my chest rising and falling with every heave of my resolute resolve and my lips curled into a ghost of a smile. I had been through hell, fire only made me smile now.

Hell and high waters.

My eyes fell upon the little bump I had just carefully concealed under my chador. At six months, the bulge of my stomach had become slightly noticeable, so I had to be extra careful when I went on the campaign tours and addressed the crowds at the rallys. There had been rumours about my pregnancy floating around in the media, speculations were rife but I was yet to confirm anything publicly. The last thing I wanted from the crowds was more sympathy than what I was already receiving.

My fingers brushed over the swell of my belly and my blood warmed with a wild gush of fierce protectiveness over my little baby that was yet to enter the mad circus of this world. No matter what, I had vowed to protect this little flicker of hope with my own life. This was his baby. My baby. And had it not been for this little life flickering within me, I would have probably lost every hope I had of weathering this storm.

To this day, I shudder at the memory of when I almost lost this child to my poor health, anxiety and depression. But that day, as I lay in the hospital, hooked to IVs and machines, I had promised myself to be strong. There was no way I was going to lose a part of me just because I had given up hope. I could not let the pain that lodged in my heart destroy everything we had ever worked for. Too many sacrifices had been made, too many lives had been lost. I could not let those sacrifices and blood go to vain. I had to turn the pain into power.

After all, stars only shine in the darkness.

I heard the soft creak of the wood and my head whipped in the direction of the door. Shehryar stepped inside the room and shut the door gently behind him. As he walked closer and the planes of his face picked up on the faint light from the lamp flickering in the corner, I realised he'd aged in the past few months. Gone was the boyish charm and insouciant attitude. He seemed mature, almost a little worn out. The past months had been equally hard on him.

For his entirety, he had lived a carefree life, without any responsibilities, knowing fully well he had a brother who stood behind him like a rock, a brother who'd never let any harm touch his skin. But suddenly burdened with the responsibility of two distraught parents, a pregnant sister in law, a sprawling business empire and a reeling election campaign, responsibility came to Shehryar quickly and unprecedentedly. I heard him clear his throat, before he asked me the question he would ask before every rally, "Are you ready?"

I shook my head, my gaze riveting back to the moon once again. "I am not ready. I never was. I never have been." I sighed heavily, the burden of our stilted world weighing down upon my shoulders. Shehryar stayed silent, but I could feel the air around us stir with a certain emptiness. "I was not ready when I met Aliyaar. I was not ready when I married him. I was not ready when he first took me on that stage. I was not ready when I was pregnant with his child and I was certainly not ready when that blast changed my life forever." I shuddered remembering the smell of death and blood around me, the blaring of the siren and the desperate cries for help. "I was never ready, Shehryar. I never will be."

Shehryar stood there, silent and stunned at my sudden outburst. But perhaps he had anticipated it, having shown no sign of surprise, not even a twitch of a muscle. His gaze remained stony, his thoughts masked and his expressions obscure and inscrutable.

"Yet you stood strong. No matter what the circumstances were." I heard him say after a while. And while his tone remained impassive, I did not miss the slightly encouraging undertone. "You can do this, Shanzae! This is the last rally, our last chance to secure next week's election. Your approval ratings have been strong, the support and response to your campaign has been overwhelmingly positive. Tonight you just have to give the crowds the one final push—"

"Stop it!" I yelled, putting my hands over my ears, trying futilely to block his voice. I did not want to hear another word. I needed no remainder of all the fake promises I had made, all the dreams I had spun and all the illusions I had painted in front of the crowds. I wanted no memory of my salty eyes as they retold my heavy and dark story that made the hearts weep and the souls cry.

These past three months had made me the very person I had dreaded becoming all my life. Cold, calculative and conniving.

I had become the very monster I had been scared of.

But I had done it once and I'd do it again. I had toured all of Pakistan. I had met with leaders and villagers. I had spoken at mosques and rallies. I had attended conferences and press meets. From emotionally charged speeches to heartfelt thank you's, I had done it all. Heck, I had even used my own family to gather sympathy from my voters. Sometimes it was hard for me to believe I had stooped so low. I had used the events of that day to work up the crowds and today I'd do it again.

"It was Bhai's dream. You did it for Bhai."

A wry sadistic chuckle escaped my lips and I shook my head, tightly clutching on the end of my duppatta. At this point I wasn't even sure who I was doing this for. Aliyaar was right, power is addictive. Once you taste the forbidden fruit, it's hard to not get intoxicated. And right now I was high.

But I was right too. Politics brings out the inner devil. And once it's out, there is no going back. The darkness I had kept hidden in my heart for so long had finally surfaced. And I wasn't sure who else it would consume along with me.

"Bhai would be very proud of you, Shanzae." Shehryar took a few steps in my direction, the soles of his shoes tapping against the newly polished wooden floor. "People can see the goodness in you. They can see the light. They see you as their leader. For once they can see the honesty in their leader's eyes."

"Honesty?" I cried out in frustration, my voice a lethal mixture of anger and disgust. "Honesty? Are you mocking me Shehryar? All I've done is lie. Promises are the biggest lie, Yaar. And all I've done is make fake promises and manipulate the truth." I turned around to fully face him, my jaw was set and my features smoothened into callous indifference. "And you know what sucks," I almost shivered at the coldness in my tone, "my soul no longer shudders when I use death and blood to emotionally wield people."

For a moment, silence stretched between us like a vast ocean, the sound of our steady breaths trying to stir the still air around us.

"Yet they can see the honesty in your eyes." Shehryar's unsettlingly calm gaze narrowed at me. "Eyes tell a story your words can't, Shanzae." He moved closer, extending his arm to pass me the speech for tonight's rally. My eyes drifted to the papers before reaching out to take them from his hands, ignoring his former comment and carelessly sifting through the words. The same old speech, the same old words that were now engraved upon my soul.

"I won't be needing the speech." Holding onto my belly I padded across the room towards the small candle in the corner, enviously watching it flicker away without a care in the world. Shehryar observed silently, as I lifted the papers and watched the file go up in flames. The smoke curled above me and the blackened ashes fell and dusted the floor around my feet. "Today I will say what my heart desires."

A momentary flicker of emotion burnt Shehryar's face, but he remained quiet, carefully observing my every move. His eyes shifted to the clock and then me, before he cleared his throat and announced his departure. "Let me know whenever you're ready to go up, everyone is awaiting your arrival." I nodded, my eyes still pinned upon the last renaments of the burning pieces of paper. "The doctor and ambulance are on standby, this is if you wish to see her before you come out." He didn't wait for a reply, neither did I bother offering one.

I only need a few moments of silence. Alone.

***

As I walked towards the stage, I kept my gaze lowered, my chin was tucked into my chest, yet I could feel all the eyes on me, their unblinking gaze burning me as I ascended up the stage. Every eye was on me. They were watching. Carefully. My every move. My every step.

With each laboured step forward, I felt my breath sticky in my lungs. My temples pulsed and the noxious smell of earth and sweat made my heart shudder. I didn't have to look up to know that there was an entire ocean of people raging beneath me, waiting anxiously to hear my voice. But as I stepped up on the podium and the air stirred with the shrill adjustment of the mike, silence fell upon the crowd like a heavy blade through the air.

Dusk drew a shroud of velvet over the city of Lahore, as I hesitantly looked up to meet the waiting eyes of the crowd. And as if on cue, the whole crowd surged, their clapping, cheering and shoutings growing deafening with each passing moment. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were hordes and hordes of people milling together, shouting, shoving, dancing to get one glimpse of me. I had never seen such an impassioned crowd. I could feel the air buzz with energy, charged and electric, ready to bring the sky down with their fervor and raw excitement.

With a smile on my face and my hand raised over my head I waved gently, letting the feeling of the charged power of the people sink into me. I had never, even in my wildest of dreams, imagined I'd be able to stand in front of such a huge crowd, command their attention and make them dance to my tunes.

"Today I do not come to you as Jalaluddin Malik's granddaughter. Today I do not come to you as Ibrahim Malik's niece. Today I do not come to you as Aliyaar Chaudhry's wife. Today I do not come to you as the President of two of the biggest parties of our country. But today I come to you as Shanzae.

Shanzae. The daughter of this pure land. The daughter of the land of five rivers. The daughter of the land of mountains and seas. The daughter of this country. The daughter of Pakistan."

Silence gave way to a loud cheer, before the whole crowd erupted into a monstrous applause. I could see the people dance, their flags and placards decorating the night sky with their colour and spirit.

"I stand before you as your daughter. The daughter who you all have loved and welcomed with open arms. Today I do not and will not ask for votes. Magar Ajj Pakistan ki awam se mein insaf mangti hoon. Kyunke awam ki adalat se bari koi aur adalat nahi hai.

The people of this country have always done justice and I do not have an iota of doubt that the people of Pakistan would do justice again."

My voice thundered through the silence, ready to shake the earth and the sky.

"They want to weaken me. They want to weaken my family. They want to weaken the people's manifesto. But let it be known to them, my family and I will no longer stay quiet against this injustice. But we will not answer them. You. The people of Pakistan will answer them. Your votes will answer them. Let the result of the Election Day be the answer to all the injustices my family and I have endured. Let it be the answer to what the people of Pakistan want. Let it be the answer to our future."

I sighed as another round of applause reverberated through the air.

"A bullet can kill you physically, but it cannot eliminate you emotionally. My family resides in your heart. And people who live in the heart of the people can never be homeless. My family has given its sweat, tears and blood to this country. We always gave what you asked for. App hum se humara khoon mange ya jaan, sir mange ya sara jahan, hum ne Sab diya hai aur agae bhi deinge. Liken ajj mein apse insaf ki umeed karti hoon.

I want justice.

Justice for the millions of people who lost their lives fighting to give us this country. I want justice for the thousands who lost their lives trying to maintain the integrity of this country. I want justice for hundreds of my party workers who lost their lives fighting to preserve the democratic rights of the people of this country. I also want justice for my family who, like millions of others, lost a son, a husband, a father, a brother. I want justice for the man who spent his entire living serving the People of this Country."

The silence that had fallen upon the city of Lahore, suddenly broke with a loud cheering applause and slogans of Pakistan Zindabad reverberated through the air. I could see the emotions running wild, the spirit of the crowd was palpable, their sentiments raw and high. Silently I waited for the crowds to settle down, my face was rigid and my lips pursed together in a thin line. I did not have to see my eyes to know that they probably burnt with a fire so splendid, that if I caught sight of it I'd probably burn myself. I raised my hand slightly to quiet the crowd, bracing myself for the most difficult part of tonight's speech.

My breath became shallow and I could feel my body beginning to shake as memories from that day began to resurface and play before my eyes. The blood, the cries and agony. I gasped for air remembering Aliyaar's blood covered body lying in my lap, the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breathe, the molten fire of his eyes that fought to stay burning and the tremble of his lips as he tried to piece his words together.

A shudder ran down my spine, my breath was caught in my chest and I could feel my body beginning to give in as I stared into the anxiously waiting crowd. My head felt giddy and my legs began to shake, I held onto the podium for support. "Are you alright?" Shehryar murmured softly beside me.

But I could make no sense of his words. I could barely make sense of anything around me, as my emotions started to get the better of me. Despite the open air, I felt trapped, claustrophobic and prisoned. The tormented memories of that day kept playing before me like an old familiar movie, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not shake them off. But I had to be strong, I could not break. I could not let the world see my weakness. Not today, not now.

I gulped, my fingers tightly clutching onto the mike in my hand. "My husband..." my voice quivered mercilessly, before my body began to shake violently. I could see the people hold their breaths in a mixture of awe and concern. No one had expected this. No one had anticipated such a public breakdown. There was silence as everyone waited for me to continue, but no matter how hard I tried, no words left my mouth. I stood there with my tongue tied and broken, in all my naked vulnerabilities. "My husband—" it seemed like my words were caught in my throat, refusing to dislodge themselves before a loud sob wreaked through my body and echoed through the rebellious silence of the night.

I could feel every eye in the crowd filled with grief and guilt pinned at me. But they all remained silent, watching me fail miserably to contain my emotions together.

"Let's go, Shanzae." I heard Shehryar whisper and a few other leaders on the stage seemed to mirror the sentiments, their eyes softly urging me to leave. I nodded, wiping back the stray tear staining my cheek.

A certain numbness took over me. I didn't know how my meltdown would be perceived by the general public and the opposition. It could either be an epic fail or it could catapult the party to success in next week's election. Either way, it was done now and there was no going back. Tonight I had spoken from my heart, but I had let my emotions get the better of me. I had let down my guard tonight for all to see me, my weaknesses and my vulnerabilities.

As I stepped off the stage, behind me I could hear the cheering of the crowds shake the sky with their roaring energy while fireworks spangled the inky night sky.

"Are you alright? Do you want me to call the doctor?" Shehryar asked, once we were off the stage and walking towards our car hurdled between a group of strong muscular bodyguards. I shook my head, firmly holding onto my duppatta, walking as briskly as I could towards the car. All I wanted was to escape into the sanctuary of my room, away from all this madness.

But when I reached for the door handle, I heard someone call out my name, and despite the deafening noise of the crowd behind me, I knew exactly who this voice belonged to. For a moment I froze, before slowly turning around to find Zaroon Bhai staring at me. I flinched as I took in his appearance. He seemed lost, shaken, but the uncanny softness in his eyes reminded me of all the love he once had for me. His dark eyes bore into mine, before they shifted to my stomach for a split second.

So he knew now.

"Congratulations Shanzae." He offered hesitantly. I merely nodded, unsure what I had to say to him. Ever since the blast at the airport, I had had no conversation with Zaroon Bhai, not even at Ibrahim Taya's funeral. 

After the funeral, Zaroon Bhai had withdrawn from public life, moved to London with his mother and had taken an infinite break from his party position. During his absence, my father and Zayan had taken over the party while Dada Jaan had stayed at the helm. But Dada Jaan hadn't taken the news of Ibrahim Taya's death well. Everyone around him had noticed and had been concerned about his rapidly deteriorating health and his inability to serve as the Party President.

With the top leadership gone, the party was slowly beginning to dwindle and lose control. And with the elections right around the corner, my father was left with no choice but to ask me to step in. He could sense my reluctance and my fear when he first voiced his idea, but we both knew that it was the only way to save our family legacy. With my constant presence at Aliyaar's rallies and my involvement in his party administration, I had been able to muster a small following for myself. People had begun to know me and ever since the blast they had all started to sympathise with me.

And nothing shouts votes like public sympathies.

"Bhai, what are you doing here?" I masked my surprise under a veil of indifference.

"Can I drive with you home?" I stared at him unsurely before nodding and slipping inside the car.

"How are you Shanzae?"

Of all the ways I had imagined our conversation to pan out, this surely wasn't one, "I've been better. The past few months have been hard."

He gave me a hard smile, the guilt in his eyes not missed by me. "I just found out. When are you due?"

"If everything stays normal then hopefully at the end of November."

He nodded. "I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you. And somewhere I feel responsible. You deserved a normal life, not the worry of an entire nation."

The corner of my lips twitched into a stoic smile, "Perhaps it was my destiny. How have you been?"

"Tired. Angry. Frustrated." He kept looking outside the window while trying to recall every emotion he had experienced in the past few months. Somewhere I wanted to sympathise with him, but somewhere I wanted to strangle him for what Ibrahim Taya did to me. "I came to Pakistan to thank you Shanzae. After what dad did to Aliyaar, I don't think we deserve your forgiveness."

"We all lost that day. Someone lost a father, someone a son, someone a brother and someone a husband. We are all united in grief Bhai, because at the end of the day, it's our family that lost."

Bhai shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes lighting up with an emotion that almost seemed like concern, "You've changed Shany. You've become one of us."

I couldn't help but smile at the irony of his words, "I was always one of you, bhai. I will always be one of you." I could feel the tension slice through the car, the impending conversation looming over my head like a sword ready to fall, "Just sign the papers Bhai and leave. The sooner, the better." I said as the driveway of Chaudhry Mansion came into view.

"The papers have been signed. Shahzad, my mother and I will no longer be involved with the party or politics in any way, in return you have to ensure our safety and promise me that there will be zero involvement from your family in the businesses and companies that now belong to Shahzad and me."

The car stopped at the entrance. I inhaled deeply, turning to Bhai, "I will keep my end of the bargain. But only for as long as you stay away from politics. The moment you try to come back, I promise you, I will destroy you."

With that I turned around and left, a weird sense of calm enveloping my soul. The vengeance and anger that hammered my heart and promised to consume me finally let go off my soul. I felt relieved. While I might not have forgiven them, I had finally let my past go.

***

But the guilt of Zaroon Bhai's words settled within me. I had changed.

Last week had been a rollercoaster of emotions, as more and more information began to unravel. Lies, secrets, betrayals shook the very roots of our family. The information had been difficult to process but as we came to terms with the new revelations I could not help but feel livid and mad at my dead uncle.

Ibrahim Taya had orchestrated the entire attack at the airport in a bid to eliminate Aliyaar from his way. He had wanted to kill Aliyaar that day, but little had he anticipated that his own men would betray him at the very last moment. That evening they had fired, but their target wasn't Aliyaar, their target was Ibrahim Taya himself. And had it not been for Aliyaar jumping in the way and pummelling him to the ground, Ibrahim Taya would have died that very second and his men would have never detonated the bomb.

My heart sank at the memory. Aliyaar tried to save the very man who had attempted to kill him in cold blood.

I wobbled up the stairs like a penguin. I was tired and fatigued to the bone. All I wanted to do was collapse in bed and fall asleep, pushing all my worries aside.

The room felt cold. Empty.

The soft breeze from the open window stifled past the thin billowy curtains, fragrancing the entire room with the sweet scent of roses and night jasmines. I tore the duppatta off my head and walked over to the dressing table. The room was quiet except for the soft whizzing of the fan above. Standing in the mirror I wiped the small traces of makeup off my face, when my eyes fell upon his bottle of perfume. I reached forward, unstoppered the bottle and took a whiff of the masculine musky scent. His scent. I took a deep breath, feeling his smell infuse through my blood, awakening every cell in my body alive.

As fatigue began to clobber my body, I leaned forward holding onto the edge of the table for support, when a pair of warm arms wound themselves around my waist pulling me back into a warm chest.

"Aliyaar."

I sighed into his hold, placing my head against his left shoulder, enjoying the protective hold of his arms around my protruding belly. How I had yearned for him to hold me like this. How I had craved his touch. He leaned into me, pulling me closer, inhaling my scent and pressing his lips on my temple. But then I froze, realising both his arms were around me. "Aliyaar?"

"Jee, Jaan."

The husky murmur of his voice had my quivering, twisting something deep inside me. "Aliyaar, your arm." I turned around staring at his arm and the sharp rugged features of his face. "You can move your arm?" The words came out more as a question than a statement, the surprise in my voice not missed by his observant eyes.

"I can." He said, slowly lifting his left arm and flexing it to show the movement. "My physiotherapist thinks I will be able to lift it fully by the end of this month."

I watched in awe, my eyes brimming with tears seeing him stand in front of me, alive and healthy. "You have no idea how happy I am." I reached out, clasping his hand in mine and holding it tightly to my chest. My heart was full and my eyes were lined with tears.

"Don't cry Jaan." His palm cupped my face, wiping the tears off my face with his thumb.

"You have no idea what I went through, Aliyaar. No idea. That one month when you were in the hospital," I shuddered remembering the one month I had spent in utter agony. The sleepless nights. The endless prayers. The countless suffering. That month I had been through hell and back. While Aliyaar fought for his life, I too was struggling to keep our baby alive. Most of my days had been spent in the hospital until that one night when Aliyaar's condition detoriated rapidly and I almost suffered a miscarriage. For a moment it almost felt like I lost everything in a blink of an eye. My whole world flashed before me, before I finally got a grip of myself.

A whole team of doctors had been flown in from London and Singapore to treat Aliyaar but it wasn't almost 10 days after the blast that Aliyaar had shown some sign of movement. Two days later, he finally opened his eyes for the first time and the doctors told us he was responding well to the treatment. His condition had stabilised that week but it was a month, that he was finally discharged from the hospital. The regular physiotherapy sessions had continued and there had been a marked improvement in his condition ever since he had come back home. But because of the surgery of his shoulder, to remove the explosive that had lodged itself near his collarbone, his left hand had been left with limited movement.

"Jaan. I know. I cannot even imagine what it must have been like for you."

"Agar apko Kuch ho jata tou shayad mein zinda na reh pati—" he clasped his hand over my lips, silencing me mid-sentence. I could see his eyes burn with mixture of fear and anger, but he knew it was the truth.

There is no Shanzae without Aliyaar.

"You have to be strong. No matter what happens. You have to be strong, for you, for our baby."

I shook my head stubbornly. "You have to promise me, you will never leave me alone."

"I—"

"Promise me, Aliyaar!"

A small smile tugged upon the corner of his lips, before he leaned in and kissed the top of my head. "I promise, meri Jaan. I promise."

"That day what you did was stupid and reckless and had it not been for the protective gear you were wearing I would probably have lost you."

His expression turned painful, "That's not true."

"Had I not walked towards you, away from the blast sight, I would have probably lost my life." I did not miss the slight tremble in his voice. "You saved me, Shanzae. You protected me." His palms cradled my face, pulling me close to him. His breath brushed against my lips and I could feel the rush of heat warm my insides.

I smiled and then turned to kiss the palm of his hand, "I didn't protect you. I protected myself. Kyunke app mein meri Jaan hain." I whispered softly.

"Jaise app meri Jaan ho." His thumb swept across my cheek while his golden eyes stared at me, perfectly incandescently happy. I could feel myself melt into his embrace with the adoration that burnt on his face. He loved me the moment he saw me, he would love me till the moment he can see me. He loves me and that was the most chaotically beautiful reality of my life.

Craning my neck towards him, I reached forward and pressed my lips against his in a soft feather-like caress. His lips felt cold, but they quickly caught mine, gradually deepening the kiss. There wasn't anything salacious or lusty about it, yet every part of my body felt alive. He kissed me like my lips were the air he breathed.

We broke apart reluctantly, gasping for air and a soft lazy smile tugged upon my lips. I stole one final glance at him, before wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug. With my eyes dropping shut, I sank into the warm and soft silence of his love. His fingers tore through my hair, his breath dancing across my skin like the stars on an black night.

I don't know how long we stayed like this, enjoying the peace and warmth of our presence, before he broke the silence with his unexpected apology. "Shany, I'm sorry." My eyes snapped open. Tearing myself away from his chest, I looked up into his stormy eyes, that seemed to be rigged with guilt. But before I could ask, he spoke, his voice heavy and broken, "I failed to protect you. I could not protect you from my world. Instead I dragged you to the very pit of this hell. You didn't deserve this."

The words sounded like a curse coming from his lips, "It's over now Aliyaar. It's done. This is my world as much as it is yours. I was scared of my inner demons. I was always scared of becoming a monster, a cold calculating monster who would drown people with her darkness, but perhaps this was my destiny. I can no longer escape it. It was time I conquered my demons."

"You're no monster. You're a woman who can drown oceans, Shanzae. You can swallow stars and galaxies, babe." His eyes scoured my face, lingering on my lips before slowly climbing back up to my eyes, "You're not a saint, but you're no sinner either."

I pursed my lips together, his words slowly sinking in. "But I've become the very person I was scared of. An opportunist. I didn't even flinch when I used the death of those innocent people to get votes. My soul didn't shudder when I used Ibrahim Taya's death to get sympathy from the crowds." My voice began to shake as guilt wedged through me like a cold brutal knife, ripping my heart out and shredding it into pieces.

"Yet you couldn't continue your speech today after you took my name." A suggestion of a smile played upon his lips and his eyes warmed. "You did what you had to do. Amidst all this chaos you had to find a way to survive. You embraced the chaos and that's what makes you beautiful. Do you regret what you did?"

I wiped the tears off my face and shook my head, "I might have guilt but I don't have regrets. This country deserves better and I know you can make this country a better place. If this is what it will take, then I've done it once and I'll do it again. Just like I'll fall in love with you all over again."

"I'll ruin you. Again."

"Then ruin me. But never stop loving me."

"Never, my love. Never. You're engraved in the scars of my heart."

***

1.5 months later

I had never felt so nervous and excited at the same time. The late morning sun poured through the tall French windows of my room, bathing everything with an enviable glow. Two young girls whizzed around me prepping my face and pulling my hair. Layla's stylist lurked in the background flipping through the rows of fine silk and satin garbs, trying to pair the diamond and emerald jewels with the outfits I was supposed to wear today. My stomach growled, demanding my attention to the more important matters at hand. Food.

I leaned a little into the chair, balancing the plate, laden with a small stack of pancakes with chocolate sauce and a handful of raspberries and blueberries, on my now visibly pregnant belly. My morning tea and glass of milk lay forgotten on the table, untouched and unwanted. In the last few days, my appetite had grown voraciously, although it had little to do with the more healthier options.

"I was thinking you should wear this green one for today's oath taking ceremony. It has an understated elegance to it and since the silhouette is loose and airy, you'll be comfortable for the entire evening." The stylist walked over to me, holding two outfits in her hand, a white and green one.

I stared at the two options thoughtfully, munching on to the delicious pancakes, "I'll look like a parrot. A large green parrot." I shook my head disapprovingly before taking another mouthful of the pancakes.

"How about this white one? We can pair it with the emeralds."

I shook my head again. "This won't pair with my necklace." I reached out for the necklace Aliyaar had gifted to me on our wedding night, his mother's necklace. I had never worn it before and while it was a little too heavy for the occasion I wanted to make sure a part of his mother was with him today. "The necklace has to be the focus not the outfit."

"Are you ready, Jaan?"

The door creaked open behind us and my husband appeared at the threshold, looking hot and handsome. His eyes found mine and a heartwarming smile graced his lips. As he took a step forward and the sun hit his face, the faintest seam along his cheek caught light. It was the only visible sign of the blast that remained on his face, and while it was insignificant and barely visible, it was there, constantly reminding me of the events of that horrific day.

"You look beautiful." His deep, rich voice floated through the room as he walked in and stopped right beside my chair. His eyes drifted to the pile of uneaten pancakes and he shook his head disapprovingly. His hair was trimmed, sitting pristinely on top of his head. His sun-kissed skin glowed under the light and I could see the slight careful indents of his muscles from underneath the white translucent kurta. The long gym sessions were finally beginning to show.

I bit my lips, feeling conscious under the heavy appraisal of his coppery hazel eyes. A small barely there smile touched the corner of his lips, fully aware of the effect his words had on me. His fingers touched my forehead, pushing back the tendril of hair lazily caressing my cheek. Aliyaar had never shied away from showing his affection for me and it warmed my heart to know even in a hall full of people, his eyes only sought mine.

"You're a big fat liar." I said, tearing my eyes away from him.

His brow rose, "Fat?"

I chuckled, "You only heard fat? What about big and liar?"

"Well." He leaned against the table, his eyes never once leaving mine. "I've gotten used to you calling me all sorts of things. But you've never called me fat before."

"Serves you right for calling me fat yesterday."

"I never called you fat." He defended. "I only told you to be careful with all the junk you've been eating lately." I opened my mouth to argue with him again, "but we can hold this conversation for a later time. We're getting late for the ceremony."

Just then the stylist walked in again holding a dull gold outfit with ivory bodice, straight pants and a heavily worked jacket. "This designer is one of the best couturiers of Pakistan. I think it would be a good choice for today. It pairs well with the necklace as well."

"This would look beautiful on you." Aliyaar looked at the dress approvingly. I turned to the dress again, it sure was breathtaking. But with Aliyaar's stamp of approval, there was no need for further deliberation. It was decided, I would wear this today. I nodded, taking another bite and shoving the empty plate back on the table.

"Leave, I'll be out in about five minutes."

****

"You look stunning." Layla said as we arrived at the Chief Minister house for today's ceremony. The whole area was buzzing with activity, overflowing with politicians, dignitaries and bureaucrats. Our families were already present when Aliyaar and I arrived. I smiled at her as I walked towards her with Aliyaar's left arm banded around my back and his other one holding onto my right hand, helping me up the stairs towards the elaborate ceremonial hall.

With all the attention upon us, I felt like royalty walking down the red carpet. The house was tastefully done, with elaborate maroon curtains, plush dark carpets, opulent stately furniture and tall windows overseeing the neatly kept gardens. The rooms were high and spacious, carefully accented with the rich hues of gold and browns. The place felt ceremonial, stately and almost fictitious. But this was going to be our house for the next five years.

While it felt beautiful, it didn't feel like home. Not like Laal Mahal nor the Chaudhry mansion.

I sighed, feeling uneasy at the thought of raising our children here. We still hadn't decided if we'd use the CM house as our official residence or if the Chaudhary Mansion would continue to be our abode. But now was not the time to be tiring myself with the thoughts. This was the time to celebrate.

Perhaps, Aliyaar had sensed my uneasiness, because he leaned in and whispered in my ear, his breath brushing the skin of my neck. "Are you alright?" I nodded quietly. "And how is my little bean?"

I smiled, "Your little bean is not so little anymore. And I think he is very excited for his father." I placed my hand over my belly. "He hasn't stopped moving the entire morning." Aliyaar laughed, the deep rich sound warming my heart.

"You think it's a boy?" he asked. Despite the curiosity raging within us, we had decided against finding out the gender of the baby. While Aliyaar was pretty certain it was a girl, I had a feeling it would be a boy. Well a few more days before we found out.

"I'm not getting into that debate with you right now." I said with a tired sigh, my eyes catching sight of the clock behind him. "It's almost time. I hope you've practiced the oath. It's in Urdu."

"So?"

"Aliyaar you can barely read Urdu." I stared at him disbelievingly. "You could have asked me for help, my whole family has held public office at some point." I turned to him with a haughty tilt of my chin, pompously flipping my hair over my shoulder.

Aliyaar raised his brow at me, his pointed gaze darkened and narrowed, "You don't have to gloat about it, First Lady of Punjab." I didn't miss his not so subtle reminder that my husband too was about to be sworn into office. It had been a difficult journey, but we had won the game. We had secured the seats and Aliyaar would now become the next Chief Minister of Punjab.

After our landslide and historic victory at the last month's election, Aliyaar's party along with Dada Jaan had been able to form a coalition government in the Punjab and KP assembly. While we had not managed to secure a majority in Sindh, we still had enough seats to form a strong opposition. Together with a few independents, Dada Jaan had secured a majority in the federal as well, forming his government for a third time. While the opposition stayed strong in the center, our hold in Punjab and KP strengthened our position. Establishment too had backed Aliyaar's appointment, and we knew that would only further strengthen his position in the next elections.

"Aliyaar it's time." I heard Dad call us. Aliyaar stole a glance at me, swiftly leaning in to kiss the top of my head.

I smiled, turning to walk towards my place in the audience when I felt him hold my wrist, tugging me back and stopping me in my tracks. Confused, I turned to him, "I wanted to thank you, Shanzae." His eyes scanned our surroundings. While he looked calm, I knew he was overwhelmed and perhaps even slightly nervous. Watching his dream come true today almost felt unreal, surreal. "This is because you. I'm where I'm because of you. It's not easy to live someone else's dream, yet you did. You made my dreams yours. And I shall forever remain indebted to you. Thank you meri Jaan, thank you."

A smile flirted across my lips and my heart swelled with his words. No words could express what I felt at that moment. Love. Appreciation. Pride. Joy. "I spent two hours this morning getting my makeup done and I don't intend to destroy it because my husband decided to make me emotional 2 minutes before the ceremony. Can we save this for later please?" I pouted my lips, trying to lighten the situation. Aliyaar laughed. His deep, husky laugh that had me beaming at him like a coy schoolgirl.

"Let's go." He said, clasping his hand in mine and walking towards the waiting crowd.

The next few hours were surreal. The happiness I felt watching Aliyaar stand on the stage, clad in a black sherwani with his shoulders squared and his head held up high, repeating the oath after Dada Jaan was indescribable. It made me realise that this journey no matter how painful and difficult it had been was worth every moment. It was worth everything we had lost. My heart swelled with pride, knowing I had made the right decision. The decision to stand by him. The decision to marry him. And the decision to love him.

Our world was far from perfect. And it would always be far from it. But together, I knew we could make it into a better place.

***

The night was ours. No matter how busy our day would be, Aliyaar made sure we spent the evenings together. Whether it was scrolling through the gardens or lying cuddled in our bed, this was the part of the day I most looked forward to. As days withered into the nights, the anticipation of the delivery date had me reeling with a mixture of both fear and excitement.

I lay in bed, with Aliyaar beside me, his hand rubbing my rounded belly. I still had a month to go, but this entire afternoon I felt uneasy and squeamish. I could feel the baby float within me, however the butterfly-like kicks seemed to be spaced out and infrequent today.

"What's wrong?" Aliyaar asked, placing his head on top of mine, lacing his fingers with mine.

"I feel tired. I think I'll take a nap." I said, closing my eyes and snuggling into his chest. I could feel him move beside me, as he adjusted his position to make me comfortable. His warm hands massaged my shoulders, slowly putting me into much sleep.

But I stirred awake after a while, feeling an excruciating pain slice through my midsection. My whole body felt heavy and I could barely move. A painful sound escaped my lips, somewhere between a scream and a groan.

"Jaan, Shanzae." I heard Aliyaar rush towards my side, his hand grabbing mine. "Are you alright?"

I shook my head, unable to form words when another contraction rode over me, the pain intensifying with every breath.

"Doctor," I panted incoherently, "We need to go to the doctor." My body felt damp with the beads of sweat collecting on my forehead and a sliver of panic sliced through me. It was time.

Aliyaar's eyes widened as he took in my condition, and he blinked, his forehead ceasing as panic began to settle into his vein. "Now?" He rushed back to his desk, fumbling with his things.

"Aliyaar what are you doing? We have to leave?" I yelled out in frustration, watching him run around the room like a headless chicken, rubbing his temples absent mindedly.

"I had a conference call, and—" he hands ploughed through his drawers looking for god knows what. "Urgh." He groaned frustratedly, "—where are the keys?"

"What are you doing?" I pushed myself off the bed with a groan, holding my belly with one hand while trying to balance my weight with the other.

"I'm looking for my things, I didn't know the baby was coming now." He ran a nervous, panicked hand through his hair.

My brows knitted together and my jaw went slack with annoyance, "Oh, I didn't know my baby had to take an appointment with his Highness before coming."

"Where is your bag?"

"What bag?"I was breathing heavily, panting repeatedly to calm my nerves. I could feel another contraction clench my muscles.

Aliyaar turned to me with a dead panned expression, "The baby bag? Are you not going to take anything to the hospital?"

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself down, but the increasing pain and his stupid questions were driving me insane. My patience was riding thin and when he stepped closer, I hurled my leg in the air, coming very close to kicking him. "Are you mad, woman?" He screamed.

"I'll kick you again, if you don't take me to the hospital now. NOW." I glowered at him.

"Ok. Ok. Calm down." He crouched beside me, taking his hand into mine. "Take a deep breath, baby."

"No. I'm in no mood to do yoga with you right now. Take me to the hospital,"  I said, pushing myself off the bed and padding towards the door like a penguin. Aliyaar raced after me, taking my hands to help me down the stairs.

"Shehryar," Aliyaar called for Yaar, as we dawdled down the hall towards the driveway. Shehryar's eyes widened seeing the scene in front of him, realisation dawning upon him quickly. He swiftly disconnected his call and ran towards us. "Tell ammi and come with her directly to the hospital. Also tell her to bring everything for the baby."

The ride to the hospital was quick. But the hours that followed after were painful and brutal. With each contraction, I could feel my stomach tightened and my whole body felt like it was on fire. Every moment seemed to be stretched into infinity, but there was little that could be done, except wait. I could barely recognise my voice, muffled between the grunts and the groans. The doctors had started the medication to help with the pain, but the past few hours had been the most painful hours of my entire existence. I closed my eyes, feeling the tears gather in the corner.

I was exhausted. The labour pains had intensified, my throat was parched and my body was beginning to give in. "I swear this is harder than I thought." I murmured, when Layla dabbed a towel to wipe the sweat off my forehead.

"You're strong, baby. It'll be over soon." Aliyaar said, walking over to me.

"You." I narrowed my eyes at him, "Shut up!" Layla chuckled, but pursed her lips when I scowled at her. "This is all your doing."

"Shan—" Aliyaar flushed, flustered at my words. "I—" he came closer, taking my hand into his.

But I pulled back, "Oh. No no no. You're not touching me for the next five years. Nah. Nope." I shook my head, crossing my arms across my chest. At this Layla laughed, unable to contain herself, while Aliyaar uncomfortably rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Babe--"

"Don't babe me."

Another contraction ripped through my system and I screamed unknowingly, unable to take the pain splitting through my body. I could feel the hot stretching of my flesh. I knew it was time. The doctors rushed in. The next hour felt like a lifetime of endless agony and excruciating pain. My body nearly gave in and I floated between consciousness and unconsciousness. I remember very little of what happened from when I was wheeled into the OT to when I reopened my eyes in my room, except for the mind numbing pain and the soft cries of a baby.

A soft exhausted smile fluttered across my lips seeing Aliyaar walk into the room, holding a small doll-like baby wrapped up in a pink fleece blanket. He hadn't said anything, but I could see the relief and joy on his face. His glossy eyes glistened with pride and happiness as he cuddled his little princess to his heart. Aliyaar was very good at masking his emotions, but today I could read him like an open book. He was emotional, overwhelmed and happy beyond words. No matter how hard he tried he could barely take his eyes off the little bundle of joy in his arms.

"Isn't she pretty, Shany?" He lowered the baby into my arms, but as soon as I got a glimpse of her I felt my breath caught in my throat. She was beautiful. An indescribable ache spread through my entire being. I wish I could have frozen the moment.

I had convinced myself that life could never be perfect, but today here, with our baby in my arms and Aliyaar's arms wrapped around us, I knew life was perfect.

This was perfect.

The sweetest of tears rolled down my eyes seeing my little princess, wrapped up in a blanket. Her tiny hands stretched out, her minute fingers curling around the blanket. She had the sweetest yet most deadly smile. A smile that could melt even the hardest of rocks. She stared at us with her big round hazel eyes and then rubbed her head, a thick mass of black hair, against the blanket. She looked just like her father.

Wait, what?

My expression shifted and a frown intensified on my face. "This is not fair."

"What's not fair?" Aliyaar turned to me with a puzzled expression.

"Aliyaar this is not fair!" I looked at him appalled. "She looks exactly like you."

Aliyaar chuckled, caressing her cheeks with his knuckle, before taking her from me. "She is my princess. She is supposed to look like me." He cooed looking at her.

"This is cheating. She is not supposed to be a copy of you. I carried her all these months, I gave birth to her. She is supposed to look like me." Aliyaar was amused by my complaint, but he held back, trying not to smile. "She looks nothing like me. This is not fair." I whined.

"She has your hair." Aliyaar turned in my direction, leveling a reasoning stare in my direction. "Remember I told you, you'd have beautiful children, with black hairs and golden brown eyes." His eyes twinkled with the memory. My cheeks flushed and I pursed my lips, looking away to avoid the ridiculously smug smirk on his face.

"Shanzae," I heard him call me. But when I looked the smirk had been replaced with a heart stopping smile. "Thanks babe. I love you." He said before leaning in to kiss my lips. A soft slow kiss, filled with love and gratitude.

"I love you too." I mumbled against his lips.

But we had no time to continue the conversation because our whole family waltzed through the door. Layla and Shehryar held pink balloons, flowers and confetti. While our parents followed behind. Our mothers faces glowed with excitement and pride. The room was buzzing with energy and joy. Everyone found it hard to contain their excitement. Aliyaar sat beside me stroking my hair, while the family hurdled over the baby crib. Every now and then the room would be filled with the soft babbles and cries of the baby.

"Have you thought of a name?" Layla asked after a while. I turned to Aliyaar expectantly, who smiled and nodded.

"Alisha."

"That's such a beautiful name, Aliyaar," mom awed. "What does it mean?"

"Protected by god."

A soft smile curled on my lips, the meaning of the name slowly sinking in. Truly this baby had been a gift from Allah, and He only had protected her and I knew He would always protect her.

My gaze returned to Aliyaar's who was watching me trying to decipher my reaction. I reached out to take his hand into mine, silently nodding my approval. The name was perfect.

At that moment, I knew my life was perfect. I realised every part of my being belonged to him, from the moment I had met him to this very moment when he stood beside me as the father of my child, I knew I was his. Like he was mine. My whole life had been orchestrated to bring us together. And together we had painted memories with the colours of love.

He taught me how to twinkle like the stars and shine like the sun. He conquered my soul, yet never silenced my storm. He mend my broken wings and taught me how to fly, to spread my wings and live fearlessly. But no matter how high I flew, how lost I got, I knew he'd always find me. Because he was my home.

In his arms, in between the gentle caresses of his lips, hidden amongst his stolen kisses, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace and the soft whisper of his love, is where my home was.

My life had not been what I had anticipated it to be, it was not what I had wanted it to be. But today, as I stood at the threshold of a new beginning, I knew the Universe had mysterious ways of panning itself out. I had made some questionable decisions. I had let my demons reign over my soul. I had spread my wings and touched the sky. I said I had done this for him, but had I really? The answer lay hidden in the darkened depths of my heart. Never to be revealed. The imperfections of my soul needn't see the light of day.

And today as I bid farewell to all of you, I want you to know, no love story is perfect. But some stories are eternal, written forever in the grains of time.

Aliyaar, Shanzae & Alisha.

Thoughts, comments?

I'm so happy for both of them.

Thank you for all the love.