© All copyrights belong to StarsAndMoon1447 on Wattpad

*

This poem was written by OHSHESLAZY

Kabhi baarish si tu beh kar
 Kabhi mitti ki soundhi khusboo si hawa me ghul jaati ; 

 Kabhi bijli si chamk kar roshni phaylati 
Toh kabhi baadal si garj ke hosh me laati hai ;

Kabhi garmi ki sakht tapish me aam panne ki taraha sukhe se gale ko raazi Kiya karti

Toh Kabhi thand me madham si dhoop banke jee behlayati hai ;

Kabhi haskar khushiyan aabshar kiya karti hai;

Toh Kabhi roke tu saari dhool mitati hai ;

TU HAR MAUSAM ME APNE ANOKHE RANG MUJHE DIKHATI HAI . 

*Sometimes you flow like rain,
Sometimes like the scent of earth, you blend with the wind.

Sometimes you spread light like lightening,
And sometimes you growl like thunder and bring me back into my senses,

Sometimes under the harsh heat you satisfy the dry throat like water

Or sometimes you comfort me like soft sunlight in the cold;

Sometimes you spread happiness by laughing;

And sometimes you wipe away the dust by your tears;

In every season, you show me your unique colours/forms.

*

Thank you so much OHSHESLAZY! This is so beautiful.

According to her, this is for Farhaan and Hoor, as each of them are each other's comfort person! 

💖💖💖

*

Arsalan

With my earphones in my ears, I skipped through a book in the library. Summer was here and between my internship, I needed good books to read to pass my time.

Definitely getting this one. I thought as I looked through a thriller book.

Suddenly, I heard sniffing. It was low at first, so quiet that I almost thought that I was hearing things. But then I heard a soft gasp, and I looked around wondering where the sound was coming from.

Through the shelves, I saw the back of a girl's head...a very familiar girl. 

"Tahira?" I asked, softly. 

She froze and slowly turned to look at me, only half her face visible from the side of the bookshelf. Her almond eye was filled with so much pain, with a strand of hair over it. 

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Her upper front teeth sunk into her lower lip as she seemed to contemplate how to answer that question. "The world will try and bring you down constantly, sometimes even people closest to you. Never let that internally destroy you, Aslan. Stay strong. Be a lion."

"Yeah, I get that. But are you okay?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about me. I've experienced worse." Giving me a sad smile, she turned away.

"Tahira, wait!" As I moved forward, my foot caught in the strap of my bag and I almost fell, balancing myself on a bookshelf. Annoyed, I kicked my foot free of the strap and looked up. 

She was gone. 

I picked up my bag and chased after her. But she had gotten into a lift, and by the time I got down to the ground floor, she had disappeared. I sighed, shaking my head.

Tahira was a true mystery.

But I had no idea that it would be the last time I'd be seeing her, and the impact that her words had on me would be more powerful than I'd realised.

*

I arrived home, lost in my thoughts. Glancing up around the house, I noticed how terribly empty it seemed. Mama and Hoor were in Pakistan. Haya was at our paternal grandparents' house. Papa was hardly home, and Rohaan was always in his room when he was home.

But today, the emptiness felt almost good. I needed to think about things. Tahira's words had made me realise how much of an introvert I was. It wasn't a bad thing being introvert or extrovert, but I wanted to be the latter. I wanted to be a person that the world wouldn't dare try to bring down, and even if they did try, they'd fall flat on their faces humiliated.

Suddenly, I heard a door open upstairs, and the next thing I knew Rohaan was rushing down the stairs wearing his football kit. His eyes were on his phone and he was so focused on typing that he didn't notice me until he almost bumped into me.

"Oh, you're home." He said. "I've ordered pizza. Eat. I'll probably be out late." 

"Football?" 

"No, ballet." He replied sarcastically. "Later." Without another word, he opened the front door and headed out. The door slammed behind him, and all that remained behind was the scent of his Lynx deodorant.

I shook my head at him. Since Haya had been at Dado's, Rohaan's teasing game had lowered. He just couldn't be bothered anymore, as I don't fight back with him the way Haya does.

I had pizza and I went to bed early, but Tahira's words haunted my mind even as I closed my eyes.

"The world will try and bring you down constantly, sometimes even people closest to you. Never let that internally destroy you, Aslan. Stay strong. Be a lion."

I fell asleep, picturing myself as brave and confident. I then imagined the proud smile on Tahira's face as I finally lived up to my name.

Aslan.

Lion.

*

The next morning when I woke up and did the almost mandatory morning phone-check, I saw an unexpected message.

<Tahira: Thank you for everything. I'll never forget your kindness, Aslan.👋🏻🦁>

I sat up in bed, frowning. I typed a reply.

<Arsalan: Umm... why are you sounding like I'll never see you again? We'll be back at uni in late September.>

But after the reply was sent, only one tick was visible, which meant that the message hadn't been delivered. My heart almost sank as I thought about the finality of her words.

My gaze went to my Criminology textbook. I'd chosen the subject for my degree because the books I read had made me interested in it. I got up and walked over to my desk, picking up the book. Tahira's constant encouragement for me to be brave and strong like a lion had made me start to think something. 

My hands flicked through the textbook, but I was starting blankly at the wall ahead of me. 

I wanted to get out of my shell. I wanted to be something more than a shy bookwork, even though there was nothing wrong with it.

"I want to be a homicide detective." I spoke almost to myself.

It was funny how a bubbly classmate of mine had made me decide my future plans. 

Maybe one day I can be the Aslan you want me to be. Maybe one day I can wipe away your tears and promise to only give you smiles in return.

But life mostly had different plans, and I was yet to learn that fully.

*

Haya

My paintbrush stroked beautiful colours onto the canvas paper. If there was one thing that could ease the pain of not playing cricket, it was art. I threw myself into it completely, losing track of the world around me. Soon, my eyes wandered to the windows and saw the glimmering lights of the city. It was past Maghrib, and considering that it was summer and therefore late sunset, it was pretty late. "I really should head back home." 

But I didn't really want to leave. I felt happy here. I could forget my still-aching foot while painting here. It was good to not think about cricket and my disappointment for a while.

I stuck my lip out in a slight pout as I decided what to do. Finally, I sighed and stood up to pack my things away. There was no point in being here anymore.

A knock on the door made me glance over my shoulder. I frowned slightly as I saw Mohib Naveed standing in the doorway.

"Assalam Alaikum." He spoke politely. "Is Mr Yasin here?" 

"Walaikum Assalam. No." I continued packing away my things.

"Will he be around tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'm not sure." I picked my bag up.

"Wow." He came up next to me and stared at the painting. "You're really talented, Ma Sha Allah." 

"Thanks." I grabbed the wooden walking stick that I had been provided so that I didn't put pressure on my foot. I don't know why, but something about this man just made me want to walk away as fast as possible. It was different when Yasin Chachu was around, but I didn't like being alone with this man. I don't know why, call it an instinct. "Excuse me. I have to go." I walked past him as fast as I could with the support of the walking stick.

As soon as I was out of the room and out of his sight, I shuddered.

I don't know why, but I wasn't a fan of this man...at all.

*

Confusion #148120346120410246106410264

I sat on the patio deck of the leisure club the next morning, having brunch with Dado and her friends. I didn't want to, but my grandmother had insisted so I had been unable to argue.

I sipped on my orange juice, trying to focus on the ladies' chatter, but God, it was boring. I really didn't know how the latest play was doing in the West End, but the ladies seemed to be excited about it. After all, at one point or another, all of them were writers or journalists in arts and culture.

Suddenly, I turned my head and saw a men's team playing cricket in white Test Cricket uniforms. Finally, I perked up as I watched the game. It wasn't an exciting match, but it was cricket, so I watched like it was a game between two major international teams.

And then my gaze landed on the bowler. He was tall with dark brown hair that he was running a hand through. He focused hard before he ran, swinging his arm around and throwing the ball.

Out.

The sound of the ball colliding with the wickets could be heard even hear and I saw the batsman's shoulders almost sag with disappointment.

"That was an awesome shot." I muttered under my breath.

"Did you say something, Haya?" Dado asked me. I shook my head and gave her a small smile. But she saw the cricket match going on and smiled knowingly. "You and cricket, Haya." 

"Oh, that's Dr Abdullah. He's a wonderful orthopaedist." One of the ladies commented. "The one who is the bowler, I mean."

I looked at the bowler again. He was chatting to one of the fielders, pointing out across the field.

"Yeah, he was my husband's orthopaedist after our car accident." Another woman said. "Dr Abdullah is brilliant, Ma Sha Allah."

I continued watching the game, and frankly speaking, I couldn't help but be impressed by the orthopaedist cricketer.

*

HINT: Haya has only ONE love interest. No love triangle! The question is: who is it?

*

Hooriya

I applied eyeliner. Dressed in red lace kameez that had sheer arms with crocheted patterns on the upper arms and floral patterns on the forearms, and a plain red shalwar, I was ready to start my day meeting the in-laws. Putting my sunglasses into my handbag, I headed downstairs. Despite the lack of sleep, I had woken up at nine. Farhaan, on the other hand, was still asleep.

"Assalam Alaikum." I greeted my mother-in-law.

"Walaikum Assalam, Hooriya."  She gave me a warm smile. "Just in time for breakfast." 

She led me into the dining room, and we had a seat on opposite sides of the table. The staff of the household started to bring out breakfast items: scrambled eggs, toast, boiled egg, jam, cheese and croissants, along with tea and coffee.

"Should we wait for Farhaan?" I asked almost hesitantly.

"No. Food's ready, let's have it fresh. I don't know when he'll wake up." She replied. "As my Chachi often says, 'Food shouldn't have to wait for you.'. If it's ready, and there's no valid reason to delay it, eat it on time. And we applied that rule in our household, Faiz and I." 

"That's a nice rule." I said.

She smiled again. "Please help yourself. Don't be shy."

I placed a slice of cheese in a croissant and enjoyed the taste of the delicious food. Even the most basic of things taste so much better in Pakistan, compared to London. We both chose to have tea rather than coffee, and we chatted over casual things over breakfast. I've known Anaya Aunty my whole life, so it was still hard to picture that she was my mother-in-law. Her nice and warm personality made it even harder to imagine that, considering the stereotypical image of a Saas that is shoved into our minds by desi dramas. 

"Assalam Alaikum." Farhaan's voice made my hand freeze midway as I was bringing my cup of tea towards my mouth towards a sip.

"Walaikum Assalam!" Aunty replied. 

"Walaikum Assalam." I spoke quietly, my gaze on my cup of tea which was now placed on the table, engulfed by my shaking hands. He made me nervous in the best way possible, even now.

"Right, Farhaan, here's the plan. We are going to go to Chacha and Chachi's first, where Sumbal and Saleem will come and meet us. Then we have to go to your Dani Phupho's house, where your Sumi Phupho will also join us. Then we go to Valima shopping for Hooriya. I'm hoping that Dania comes along." Aunty immediately started to tell him the itinerary of the day that she had already briefed me about. 

"I just spoke to Issa a few minutes ago. He won't be available till the evening." Farhaan replied. "He's insisting that we meet him." 

"I don't think it would be possible today, Farhaan. Maybe tomorrow?" Aunty suggested.

"If Hoor is available tomorrow, why not?" Farhaan glanced at me.

"Me?" I blurted out in surprise.

"Of course. My cousin Issa wants to meet us both." 

I knew that his Dania Phupho's son Issa was a couple of years younger than Farhaan, twenty-nine. And that Issa also had a brother my age, Suleyman. I'd met them a couple of times throughout the years. "He's already met me."

"Not as my wife." 

The word 'wife' in regards to me still sounded a little strange.

"I know you must think that why can't all our relatives just meet us at the wedding." Aunty spoke to me. "But my side of the family won't be able to attend the wedding, and Farhaan's Phuphos are very insistent that we bring you over to meet them." 

"That's okay. I'd be happy to meet everyone." I smiled.

***

Farhaan's unofficial Naniyal lived in a modest and clean area in a little busy area of the city. The entrance to the house was via a door at the side of the house for some reason. 

As Anaya Aunty knocked on the gate, I turned to the left where Farhaan stood chatting to a guy on the neighbourhood that he seemed to know. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and as I glanced at him, he looked back at me with a small smile.

The door opened and a woman opened the door. "ASSALAM ALAIKUM!" She greeted my mother-in-law loudly with a huge smile, almost startling me enough to almost lost my balance.

"Walaikum Assalam, Sumbal." Anaya Aunty laughed, hugging her back tightly.

"Aap to pardes jaake pardesi hi hogayi hain." Sumbal Khalla complained. 

*"You've become a foreigner since going abroad."

"Oh, Sumbal. How can anyone ever forget their homeland and their people?" Anaya Aunty spoke emotionally. She glanced at me, gesturing towards me with her hand. "This is Hooriya, Farhaan's wife. Hooriya, this is my sweet cousin sister, Sumbal." 

"Assalam Alaikum." With my head covered with a dupatta, out of respect, I nodded at Farhaan's almost-Khalla.

"Walaikum Assalam. Her name is perfect for her. She's beautiful, Ma Sha Allah." The aunt pulled me into a tight hug.

"Thank you." I gasped out because the hug was too tight.

"Farhaan! Come!" Sumbal Khalla called out to him as she finally released me. She waved over to him and he immediately walked over.

"Assalam Alaikum, Khalla." He bowed his head and she ran both hands over him, giving him duas.

"Walaikum Assalam." Sumbal Khalla placed her fingers under my chin, even as she addressed him. "Ma Sha Allah, your bride is beautiful. A little out of your league, don't you think?" She winked at me.

I giggled but Farhaan nodded and said, "Yes, Khalla. There's no doubt about that."

And so began a day of me meeting and greeting Farhaan's relatives from both his parents' sides.

*

Rohaan

"F**k!" Dev Arora, a close friend of mine swore as he slammed his foot on the brake, stopping the car just in time. A moment's delay, and the woman crossing the road on the zebra crossing with a baby pushchair would have been knocked over.

"Drive carefully, f***er." Nathan Jacobs called out from the back seat.

"You a**s, I ain't getting caught again." Aaron Charles said from beside Nathan.

Yes, this is the other part of my life; the part where I feel like my friends and I can do anything, and get away with all kinds of s**t without having to face the consequences for it. When you have money, you can simply make the consequences disappear. The world belonged to the wealthy, right?

I pressed a cigarette between my lips and leaned casually back on the front passenger seat. My eyes were focused on the woman who seemed to be shouting at us; shouting that was drowned out by the noise of the rap song playing loudly on the car stereo.

"MOVE!" Dev shouted at her through the windscreen.

I reached forward and turned the volume down, before gesturing for the woman to get out of the way. 

And finally I heard her words, "If your mothers or sisters ever end up getting crushed by a car one day by selfish brats like you, remember that it's karma and nothing else." 

"What did you say?" Growling, I got out of the car, unable to hold myself back.

"Ro, bro, leave it!" Dev sounded alarmed.

"Should have ran you over." I called out to the woman.

The woman whirled around, trembling with rage. She marched over to me and shoved me hard. "You b*****d, I have a baby in the pushchair. You sadistic little s**t, you want that baby to be run over too?" 

Shaking my head, I got back into the car.

"Arrogant b*****d!" She shouted, pounding her fist on the window.

Unable to help myself, I gave her the middle finger and Dev drove off.

We drove in silence for a while, still processing what had just occurred.

"Bro, you need to calm down." Nathan said. "One day, your rage will land you in deep s**t if you're not careful." 

I scoffed. "She can try all she wants. She can't touch me. I have contacts that she can't even dream about." 

*

We ended up by the Thames, and we sat on the stone railings smoking, scrolling through our phones and chatting about random football stuff.

An aging homeless man passed us by, minding his own business.

"Yo! If you have a problem finding a shower, bathe in the river cause you stink, man!" Aaron called out to him.

I chuckled, but did not comment.

The man looked in our direction. "Have some respect, you good-for-nothing piles of filth."

Nathan laughed loudly. "We are the good-for-nothing piles of filth? Pot calling the kettle black. I'd tell you to f**k off and go home, but you don't have one." 

The man stared at him and then Aaron silently, until his gaze landed on me. His eyes held a lot of wisdom- enough to make me feel ashamed. I just puffed at my cigarette and turned away.

"What are you staring at?" Aaron snapped at the man, before reaching down and picking up a discarded can of Coca Cola and tossing it towards the man. "God, we're running across all the twats today." 

The man stumbled backwards instinctively, holding up his hands to defend himself, but he tripped up and landed on the ground on his back, his head cracking against the hard footpath.

"Oh. F**k." I muttered. 

"Run!" Dev yelled at all of us. "Come, you a******s before the police gets here!"

"He's hurt, man." I said.

The man eyes had rolled back in his head and he fell unconscious. A small pool of blood began to form underneath his head. 

"LET'S GO!" Dev shoved me in the direction of the car.

I wanted to go and I wanted to stay. I was torn between right and wrong, good or bad, my conscience or the devil. 

"Ro, we'll have to go if you don't come!"

"Ro!"

"Alright, we'll leave." 

I stood still, even as I heard the car doors shut and my 'friends' drive away. I crouched down beside the man, wondering who I was ever friends with people who caused this. "I'm sorry, man. I'm so, so sorry." 

I took my phone out and dialled 999. "Ambulance."

*

A good friend doesn't snitch on their friends.

A responsible citizen doesn't lie to the police.

And I knew, I just knew, that if I omitted a few facts, or if I blatantly lie, I could be in much deeper trouble later.

Maybe I was a cowardly, terrible friend, but I had a sense of pride over my family name, and I didn't want it to be maligned with me being entangled in a legal case. I suppose, it would all come out anyway, but I'd rather be in a positive light than a negative one.

"How many times have I warned you about the sort of friends you have, Rohaan?" Papa questioned me when he came to pick me up from the unfamiliar location.

"I...I had nothing to do with his fall. I stayed behind to make sure that he's okay."

"I didn't say that you had anything to do with his fall, but you chose the wrong friends, Rohaan. Which one of them stayed behind with you to do the right thing?" 

None of them. They all ran like rats.

"Friends should take you on the right path; if they're taking you on the wrong path, they should not be a path of your life." Mama often said to us.

"I want to stay here and ensure that the man recovers." I said. "I want to apologise to him when he wakes up, In Sha Allah."

Papa placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You know, it's sad how we often value a person's life based on how much money or wealth they have. There was no reason for them to go after him, simply the fact that he was homeless and they are a bunch of rich kids." I spoke almost to myself. And then I thought about my behaviour with that woman.  I had acted like a 'rich kid' too, even though my friend was in the wrong, and not that woman. She had been innocently crossing the zebra crossing. As a pedestrian it was her right to be given way by the cars on a zebra crossing.

I haven't been raised like this. I've been raised to be humble, modest and down-to-earth. I have been raised with the belief that arrogance was a trait that led to downfall.

"I hope that man recovers." I tilted my head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

*

Hooriya

"Itni jaldi ho gaya sab kuch?" Riffat Mumani, Saleem Mamu's wife commented, looking in a  scrutinising manner at me.

*"Everything happened so quickly?" 

"Aisa lagta hai ke kal hi iski mangi us Sophia ladki se hui thi, phir aisa kya hua ke mangni toot gayi aur achanak tumne is ladki se shaadi ka faisla karliya, Farhaan?" She continued.

*"It seems like just yesterday that he got engaged to that Sophia girl, then what happened that suddenly your engagement broke and you decided to marry this girl, Farhaan?"

"Riffat!" Saleem Mamu glared at her.

"What? It's a genuine question!" 

There's always one. Always. Rang me bhang daalne waalna, meaning that person had to say or do something to create sourness in the atmosphere for all.

"Riffat, please." Anaya Aunty placed a hand over her forehead.

"It's not me, it's the community that talks." Riffat shrugged. "They all know that Farhaan was in love with that Sophia one day, and the next day, he was crazy about this girl. "

I felt myself tense up about hearing those words.

"Sab kethe hain ke isne aur iski maa ne kuch jaadu tona karwaya hai." Riffat concluded. 

*"Everyone says that she and her mother had black magic done." 

*

I didn't intend to finish off the chapter here, but I'm too sleepy now. 

In a lot of scenarios when things are going good in someone's life, some people are accused of using black magic to get what they want. Envious, hateful people make up these things, and I have witnessed this myself in distant relatives. 

But would (relatively) innocent Hoor be impacted by those words?

How will Tahira's advice and absence impact Arsalan?

How will the incident with the homeless impact Rohaan?

How will the random introduction impact Haya's future?

Are Haya's instincts warning her about Mohib?

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote! 

*

Plus, don't forget to check out the latest book 'Unconditionally & Irrevocably Fanfictions'. The first one was written by storiesbyzainab and OHSHESLAZY. Anyone is free to submit any fanfiction of this series on there.

I used the email address: [email protected] for Wattpad 'work purposes'.  😂