•| meeting |•
•••
dil yoonhi pathar nahi hote
umar bhar ka aitbaar tootne par hote hai
•••

Fidah Mahmoud ran through the expanse of the greenland, the soles of her heels sinking into the murky wet soil. The border of her soft carmine lehenga coating in the turbid dirty earth.

Heavy puffs of wind left her mouth as she choked back a suppressed sob. Her whole life had changed in the matter of an hour and she was still trying to wrap her head around it. How helpless had she become to her circumstances?

Every inconsequential noise from the dark forest caused her to flinch in fear, more than the lurking creatures of the night, the men adorning wolf skins were her paramount concern. What if they caught her?

Just then a loud gunshot resonated throughout the thick air, causing her to jump in horror as her dupatta got caught in a nearby slivered tree, which eventually resulted in her falling directly onto the road that she was just about to reach.

Her body ached as tears freely fell down from her eyes. The concrete asphalt was hard and cold on her back, her vision becoming blurry from the exhaustion. She felt the letter in her palms as she held onto it like it was the last token of hope. The last form of comfort. She felt like dying. Maybe she would. Maybe she would finally meet her Baba.

Just as the lullaby of oblivion began to dawn on her existence, she heard voices. They were staticky and broken, as if spoken through an expired phone line. She could almost feel the footsteps heading towards her accompanied by incoherent shouting. The last thing she saw before she finally lost all sense of reality was a gorgeous man. Maybe he was here to take her to Baba. Maybe he was Malakul Maut. The Angel of Death.

—

"There once lived a rich beautiful woman named Khaleela, who loved a poor man called Khaleel, very dearly. The man had bewitched her, body and soul... " Yaseen Hamidi began, the torch light of his phone lit up under his jaw, in an attempt to look spooky.

"Who names their daughter Khaleela?!"

"Did you just quote pride and prejudice?!"

Two very abrupt responses from his brother and cousin vertebrated throughout the car, which caused him to grin sheepishly.
"Yaar aap dono ko sunna hai ki nahi meri story, stop with your ridiculous questions."

(Do you want to listen to my story or not?)

"We never asked you to tell us a story, Yaseen. Shut up." Came his Zarrar Lala's gruff reply, causing Dina to join in.

"Yes, stop that stupid flashlight already. You already look like a swollen monkey's bum. That flashlight is making it worse."

"How do you know what a swollen monkey's bum looks like? Have you been  shoving your head in their bums?" Yaseen grumbled, as he turned off the flashlight on his phone.

"What did you..." Dina screamed, turning around from the front seat, her eyes blazing with fury. But Yaseen continued his story ignoring her.

"Khaleela's parents were against this love. So Khaleel and Khaleela ran away and got married. Just as they were about to start their new life together, far away from the evils of their respective families, Khaleela's family found them. They killed Khaleel right in front of Khaleela. Khaleela in the pain of losing her love, cried and cried until she couldn't anymore. She refused to go home and wandered along the woods, seeking and calling Khaleel. She vowed to avenge his death." Yaseen narrated, stopping now to open a bag of crisps.

"Then?.. how did she avenge his death?" Dina probbed as looked at him hoarding the crisps and mumbling with a mouth full.

"urm, she is well... As the rumors have it, wandered into the forest near where Khaleel was killed. She was never found by her family despite years of searching."

"She probably must've died. The forest is full of predators." It was Zarrar this time who interjected as he curved his steering entering a deserted pathway, which his friend had suggested would lead faster to their city. It was coincidentally amidst a huge dark forest.

"Well nobody knows if she died or not, people say she got resurrected as an evil churail who wants to drink the blood of all those who dare pass through the forest. She lures them with bright red wedding clothes, her long luscious hair sprung about on her face. Her eyes so beautiful that even the most purest hearts will be filled with lust. She cries in the middle of the road setting bait for innocent travelers, then she tells them her husband is lost and wants them to find him."

"What.. happens when they refuse?" Dina questioned meekly as she peered at Yaseen fearfully.

"She.. tears.. their limbs apart... " Yaseen muttered stuffing crisps into his mouth. "And drinks.. their .. blood.. starts crying again for her husband.. waiting for her new prey."

"Yaseen! You creep, who tells you such stories." Dina screeched in annoyance now as she turned back around in her seat.

"It's supposed to be true. She's infamously called the Laal Churail by the locals."

" Lala.. " Dina mumbled as she looked at her pitch black surroundings, with lucious trees surrounding them. "Why are we in this unknown forest?"

"It's a shortcut, beta. Stop giving so much attention to this useless idiot and his half baked stories. All he does is bluff—" Before Zarrar could finish reassuring his cousin, his eyes fell on a fallen figure in the middle of the road a few feet away. It was covered in red.

"Lala!!!" Yaseen screeched from behind him, causing him to press harshly on his brakes, coming to a sudden halt. " Chaal Luraial!"

"Laal Churail, bola tha gadhey." Zarrar growled as he glared at his brother through the rear mirror.

"Lala, let's head back. We should not stay here. It doesn't feel right." Dina squeaked, on the verge of crying.

"Noo, Lala ankhen band karke chada do. Usko pata chal chuka hai hum aa gaye hai uske jungle mein. Ab ya phir hum marenge ya wo." Yaseen pleaded as he hung onto Zarrar's collar, pulling it back, almost choking him.

(Close your eyes and run over her. She knows we have entered her forest. Now either she dies or us)

"Stop it! Leave me. Chup kar jau. Laal Churail is just a mythical urban legend. She doesn't actually exist. It might be someone injured." Zarrar wheezed, as he slapped Yaseen across the face.

"How do you know? Have you met her before? Did she forget Khaleel and marry you?" Yaseen gruffled, as he pointed an accusing finger in his direction.

"What if she has?" Zarrar humored, as he rolled his eyes before fixing his glasses.

"Lala!! Don't say that." Dina cried out lunging towards Yaseen as she pulled his hair.

Shaking his head at their antics, Zarrar opened the door to his black Lexus cautiously as he got down. The moonlit night cast tender glow as he took slow steps upon the unsettling scene—a stunning woman in flashy wedding attire, a mysterious allure lying amidst the quiet dark road.

A sense of concern and urgency washed over him, as he cautiously moved around the body to get a better glance at the face. A unintentional gasp leaving his lips as his blood turned cold. There she lay. The dead General's Daughter. The woman who had managed to derail his existence in the last one week.

___

The old haveli stood weathered, its timeworn facade revealing tales of bygone years. The red brick walls bore the scars of time, and the creaky wooden doors whispered memories of laughter echoing within. The courtyard, once vibrant with games, now echoed with a nostalgic silence, and the faded frescoes on the walls held faded glimpses of youth that once resided there. The scent of chai and fragrant spices filled with memories lingered in every corner.

A small girl skipped along the vague pattern she had drawn on the cemented yard with chalk, one foot just touching the front of her other. Her small frame almost tumbling sideways as she tried her best to balance. Two twisted ponies swinging left and right, her tongue protruding from the seam of her closed rosy lips in concentration.

"Fidah Jaan!" Called out the voice of an older man, who was seated on the steps leading to the courtyard. His hands stained with a gorgeous shade of crimson as he peeled off the layers revealing ripe seeds of the pomegranate.

"Yes, Baba!" The little girl hopped towards the older man, in anticipation as she sat a few steps below. Her eyes darting in utter fascination towards the forbidden fruit. Not because of the famous myth of persephone & hades, where the god of underworld tricked the goddess of spring to return to the underworld with a few seeds of pomegranate, although the girl would've been just as fascinated if not more if that were true.

It was actually her Nano who had made it a forbidden fruit for her. You see her Nano had a magic thumb for growing pomegranates during her last days, she was so devoted to them, that she refused to let the little girl anywhere near them, alas, she wasn't so fortunate to see her pomegranates ripe into the gloriously forbidden fruit that they were. So, the little girl had learned to associate pomegranates with forbidden love. A love not meant to be acquired.

Today when her Baba had decided to finally let her see what lay inside the fruit, the girl couldn't quite wrap her head around if she should be terrified or spellbound. Perhaps she was a mix of both.

Picking up a few seeds in his palm the older man slid it onto his daughter's tiny one.
"There! Enjoy it."

The girl stared at it with so much reluctance, the crimson juices from the seeds already seeping through the creases of her own palm. Such an irrational fear.

"Kha bhi lo, jaana! Daro nahi" The man gently nudged, as he popped a few seeds in his mouth and chewed them softly. Almost as if encouraging her to do the same.
(Eat it, don't be scared!)

Closing her eyes shut, the girl mirrored her father's actions, as she slowly chewed onto the decadent fruit, the small pearls exploding in her mouth, leaving an earthy sweet taste. Her hazel eyes snapped open in excitement as she savoured the slightly tart-velvety texture coating her tongue.

The man chuckled out loud looking at his daughter as he swiped his thumb across her lower lip painting it red with the juices that had slipped from the corner of her lip.
"My pretty girl!" He exclaimed proudly, admiring glimpses of his beloved wife that were left behind in the form of their daughter.

"Baba! Aur dein, please. Hum yahi ruk jaye? Is Haveli mein?" Yahan sab hume bohot acche lagte hai." The girl exclaimed excitedly, almost entirely unaware of the storm that was brewing within her father.

(Please give me more, Can we stay here? In this house? I like everyone here.)

"Abhi to mushkil hai, Fidah Jaan. Dua kijiye. Har dil ki wo dua mukkamal hoti hai jisko wo sabse zyada mangta hai. Kya pata aapki ye dua mukammal ho jaye." Her father smiled heavily, his heart weighing down with the longing of returning back. With the longing to belong. But it was too late for him, maybe not so much for his daughter.

(Right now it won't be possible. Pray. Every heart gets what it has prayed for the most. Who knows maybe this prayer of your might get accepted)

The girl nodded her head in sincerity, although filled with a plethora of innocent questions she refused to let them disrupt her time with her Baba. He gave her a comforting smile, almost like a hug that promised to not let any harm befall her. Then suddenly he started fading, his smile scattering like dust particles fluttering across a net into the air. Bit by bit everything about him disappeared, almost like he didn't exist.

Before the girl knew, she was wailing and crying. Sobbing mercilessly as she buried her head in between her knees, left all alone. Cradling her face within her knees, her shoulders heaved up and down with immense pain. Her heart felt like it could take it anymore.

Just then she felt lanky arms locking themselves around her frame. Before she felt her head lay against the unfamiliar warmth. Lifting her head slightly, the girl sobbed trying to look at who it was.

It was a boy, definitely a few years older than her, his jaw just starting to take shape, his stormy eyes held a certain gentleness to them as he rocked her body in his arms like a baby, attempting to calm her.

"I..I..don't kn-now...why I am c-crying!" The girl hiccuped, clutching her mouth with her palms as silent tears streamed down her face.

The boy shook his head, his own breath wavering at her condition.
"It's okay. Don't worry. It's okay. Let it all out."

"I am not w-weak.." She gasped for air, "My Baba, always says I am the strongest girl he knows."

"Of course, you are. But it's okay to cry, crying doesn't make you weak." The boy whispered, rubbing her arms in consolation.

"I-I don't want to cry. I don't want..anyone t-to see me crying."

"Shh it's okay. Cry as much as you want then. I won't let the anyone see it. I will protect you." The boy murmured softly as he continued rocking the sobbing girl in his arms back and forth until he could. Even if that meant it would be the last thing he would be doing.

___

Fidah's eyes snapped open and she couldn't think anything of her being. Her heart pounded, mind empty. It's was as if a hypodermic of adrenaline had been emptied into her carotid. She strained into the utter darkness trying to gain influence of her surroundings, her breathing began to steady, as the blind spots in her vision started filling in. Bright white light.

"Aah! How are you feeling, my dear?" The lady, dressed as a nurse, who seemed to be checking the IV bag attached to her bed, declaimed positively.

Fidah's parched throat opened, but no voice came out, the nurse empathetically tapped her arm before saying. "It's okay. I will get you a glass of water and inform your husband. Poor thing has been waiting out all night."

That is when Fidah realised she was in a hospital, everything from the night before came flooding back like a hurricane whirlwind. The letter, her almost marriage to Laiq, the goons chasing her, death?

Where is the letter?
Husband?!

The two things rang in her brain at an alarming speed. A shot of electric whizzing shooting up spine. What is happening to her life? When did it get so messed up!

Trying to get up, Fidah hissed as she tried removing the IV attached to her hand. Just then the door opened, revealing a man. She found her breath getting stuck in the back of her throat as she took in his heavy existence in the room.

For some odd reason, she found herself wondering why it felt that way. She wondered if Van Gogh held his breath the first time his fingers held a brush, she wondered if it was the same way her Baba felt when he saw her mother. If it was the same way Laiq held his breath when his father spoke.

They all had different reasons for forgetting to breathe. Fidah didn't know what was hers when she saw him.

•••

a/n

Hii! How are you guys?

How did you find the chapter?
It was kind of filler-ish, ik. But, we need this for the story to progress!

I am trying to build a base for the story so I need for it to be strong! I hope this works.

Thoughts on Fidah? Zarrar? Dina? Yaseen?

Please do leave your precious feedback! It means the world to mee! Motivates me to write!

Stay safe
Byee
~flawfully