That particular lane in Gulshan-e-Iqbal was exhibiting the same old hustle of life in its full form. The noise of life going on as per the norm and everything falling into a routine. Running vehicles and people here and there, going on about life and all its basics. In all this normalized chaos the opened window of the house in the middle was like the doorway into a different world, and different it was. A stark contrast from the world outside, even its panes were not moving on the tunes of wind.

The inside was as expected, the bed was without any crease indicating the owner didn't bother lying down on it the night before. Every other nook of the room was mimicking the bed, sans the very occupied study table.

The books were strewn across it, opened pages with hand-written notes and some pieces sticking out here and there. Reading through those with full concentration was Izaan Shoaib.

It was no guesswork, his 3rd year professional exam was upon him. It was self explanatory. The same year end saga was repeating itself, but it was more hectic with the clerkship and OSCE in certain subjects. He had no time whatsoever for anything else and his family understood it well. They were as accommodating as ever with giving him complete time and space to prepare for his written and practical exams along with other additional activities which were a part of the medical school professional exam.

Walking out of this very busy room, rounding the corner and to the other end of the TV lounge, the voices coming from the room at the end were breaking the silence permeated in the air.

Shoaib Ansari looked up from his piping hot cup of tea at his wife's beaming face. She'd gone shopping today and now that he was back home, she was excitedly showing him everything she'd bought. His tea wasn't getting cold nor were Memoona's anecdotes of a day well spent in bargaining. But that wasn't of his concern. He never stopped her from showing her skill when it came to getting things at a reasonable price, she was a thrifty and wise woman when it came to spending money. The reason why she was in charge of all the expanses and how much they'd spend on those. His eyes were darting toward the brown bundle placed pretty away from the clothes. Books. He could tell. He could also tell that none of his sons were into book reading. The eldest didn't have enough time and the twins had other things to invest their time in. Memoona buying books for Abba was not even an option. Abba was very picky when it came to his bookshelf and what he'd keep there.

His mind was telling him what he kind of already knew. Still, he took a sip of his tea and pointed towards the bundle. Memoona, who was in the middle of explaining the fabric of the shirt in her hand to him, stopped and followed where he was pointing.

"What's that for?"

Memoona smiled and that confirmed it for Shoaib. He leaned into the pillow behind him and sighed.

"I just thought Safwa has visited us so many times. I should buy something for her too. Books seemed the best idea so I just went with it."

For someone who hadn't set foot in a bookshop in over a decade, she sure was playing it cool. Shoaib smiled. She smiled back at him and went back to her previous task.

"Don't you think you're going pretty fast here?"

His next question was direct. No beating about the bush. Izaan had inherited his straight forward nature from his father.

"What fast? I just bought books for her. Stop making a big deal out of it."

She was offended. A very typical reaction whenever she was caught doing something. She hadn't done anything wrong. It was just a bundle of books. But it's never in the deeds. It's always the intention. And her intentions for Safwa were clear to Shoaib.

"I'm not stopping you from showering your affection on her, but before making any assumptions, or weaving any dream, I'd suggest you talk to Izaan. Know what's there in his heart. Only then you should proceed with what your heart is telling you."

"As if Izaan will ever open up."

"He can. If he really wants to he will. But the question is, does he?"

Memoona fell silent. That was the problem. Izaan Shoaib wasn't good at telling what he wanted even though he wanted it more than anything in this world.

"Give him some time. Rushing into things will never do any good to any of us. I'm not saying your buying something for Safwa is wrong. But don't put too much pressure on yourself as well as those two. They can figure things out for themselves. Our interference can make things messy. You're getting my point right?"

Memoona wanted to shake her head. Tell him that, no! She could see they both were made for each other. They were that missing puzzle piece in each others' life story. But no matter how much she didn't like it, Shoaib Ansari had a point, like always. He wasn't ignorant of how his kids were even though he was there on his shop half of the day. Fathers aren't as immune to the emotions of their children as we like to think. They know. And sometimes they know better than anyone what to do.

"But I'm still giving her this. I spent my time looking for the books."

Shoaib shook his head laughing lightly.

"Of course you will. I can't stop you and I won't."

"You shouldn't."

The conversation had gone back to where it was before. But with the caution that the octave wouldn't get high. The typical setting whenever Izaan's exams were around.

In the room right in front, another conversation was going on. Both the mood and tone of it was very distinct from what Memoona and Shoaib were talking about. The tension was palpable.

"You don't have to be so bitter about just a guest you know."

Ibtihaj was offended. The conversation between him and Ibsam had started on a light note with Ibtihaj talking about something random. It then turned into something else and how it came to the point where Ibsam was openly showing his dislike for Safwa visiting them every other day, Ibtihaj had no idea.

"I'm not being bitter about her. It's the double standard of our parents. Don't you think Izaan Bhai almost always gets the favourite child treatment?"

"He's the favourite child and rightfully so. He's everything to be called one."

"Oh stop with this your Izaan Bhai fanclub now. He's my brother too and I love him. But don't get me wrong, Ibtihaj, Amma and Baba give him too much margin on everything. He also has friends who are way out of his social class and status. Sarim's father is in the army. He comes from a long line of riches. Same goes for Hesham. Family law firm and do you even know how famous Kirmani group of industries is? Safwa Kirmani is the heiress to all that. But, no. Amma, Baba and Abba will always have a problem with my friend circle and will school me on how I need to make new and better friends. While they throw a party for Izaan Bhai's friends every other day. The double standards."

He had gotten up and was now out of the room. Ibtihaj sighed deeply. He could give him a rebuttal for every point he'd raised just now but did he even want to listen? It wasn't like Ibsam didn't know Sarim was on the way to becoming a self made man. Hesham had no plans of joining his family law firm and Safwa had no air of a spoilt brat or pampered princess about her. Ibsam was acting ignorant even though he knew. He just wanted to play the blame game. So, what was the point of telling him all that? That won't change his view point. He wasn't arguing for the sake of it. He was arguing because he wanted to. And those are two different things.

He had gone and the air of the house had gone back to its normal. But Ibtihaj could feel it in his bones. Ibsam's way of thinking and articulating his idea was the indication of a doom. And Ibsam himself was going to be that doom.

_______

Seeing her radiant smile and the bounce in her steps, everyone could tell Elaf Daud was happy today. It wasn't because they had a double lecture off, neither was it due to her favourite Mubarak ki Biryani she'd just had. The reason was Professor Kaleem was back to work which meant soon they'd have a new play script in hand. It was again time for Elaf Daud to shine in her domain. Her. The stag. The character she'd play. A complete triangle where no one was being left alone.

She rounded the corner and came to a halt. Her eyes roamed around and finally settled on the person she was searching for the past fifteen minutes . Sarim was sitting on the raised berth close to the water tank. His bag and folder were settled close to him but he wasn't immersed in studying anything, seeing how tight his schedule had become due to his part time job and freelance work. Instead, he was leaning against the wall with his eyes focused at nothing.

"Where're you lost?"

Elaf asked, dropping herself close to him. He looked at her and smiled.

"You're pretty cheery today."

"I'm always pretty. About cheery, well I'm getting to do what I love and that's making me happy."

"So professor Kaleem is back I suppose."

"Yes, He has started working on our next play as well. It's in about two weeks."

"Then you should start preparing for it as well."

"No, I'm not letting you dodge my earlier question. Where are you lost? Is everything okay?"

Sarim shrugged his shoulder. In all honesty he was fine. As rare as it was, but everything at home was also good. Then why was he lost?

"Is it about your father?"

"Not really. He's not home most of the time these days and neither am I. So I don't get enough chances to get mad at him."

"And this is the reason for your sulking mood? Real mature, Sarim."

"It's not. I'm honestly not sure why I'm a bit down these days. Ammi is also fine. Irma is happy in her life. In fact She and Mohid are shifting to a new place. Mohid got promoted so they are moving now."

"This is good, no?"

"It is."

"Then why does it look like you don't think it is?"

She had her eyes noticing every change of expression on his face. Sarim tried schooling those but she raised an eyebrow. Caught red handed.

"Okay, fine. You can make fun of me for it but I'm not used to this calm in life. It's making me suspicious."

He was waiting for her to laugh, or call him silly. But nothing of that sort happened. She heaved deeply and leaned to his side.

"You have to get used to the idea of happiness, Sarim Haider. Start living in the moment and stop worrying about what's to come. You are constantly living looking over your shoulder, not the kind of attitude I'd expect from an army background kid. Do better."

He chuckled softly tracing the pattern on her bag. It was an abstract design. Much like his life even though he was trying his best to navigate his way through.

"You were suspicious of Irma's in laws and rightfully so. But it was just a hunch, thankfully. She's happy in her life. You yourself said this the other day that she's happier than you had expected her to be. Then why are you still worried? Are you this afraid of happiness?"

He didn't say anything in return. Maybe he was.

"Don't do this to yourself okay? I'm sure you aren't miffed that you were wrong when it came to Irma's wedding. That's not you. You're just taking your time getting familiarized with the idea that finally Irma is at the place she deserves to be. You just go so harsh on yourself. That's not how I'd ever want your life to be. Past is in the past and so is the future, in the future. If you'll spend your time reevaluating the past and planning for the future, this middle portion, what you're living right now, is called the glorious present, where it will go? To the waste? No, sir. That's not happening. You better start working on this habit of yours otherwise I'll come in your dreams to remind you of what you're supposed to do, live. Your. life! Understood!"

She was looking right in his eyes. A world in hers and a world in his as well. A reflection of each other.

"You don't have to stage nightmares for me. I will try my best."

"You better. And mind you any dream with me in it is far from a nightmare. I mean do I really look like I can pull off that kind of performance?"

"I can take my chances."

She swatted his arm away.

"I have no interest in coming to your dreams."

He got up following her. Both were smiling, not thinking much of what she'd said. But they had no idea that sometimes, dreams are the only way of finding each other close.

_____

Barrister Ansar Minhaj touched the side of his bearded face and looked at the young man sitting in front of him. He was no stranger. In fact, he'd seen this lad growing up right in front of his eyes. Atif Baig's son and Atif Baig was Ansar Minhaj's close associate from the work front.

"You really are different from your clan, hun?"

Hesham shook his head at Ansar's comment. Any person who knew his father and the kind of advocacy lawyers from his family did over the years, would definitely be shocked knowing he was going on a very different path.

"Is your father aware?"

"About what exactly?"

"About you choosing criminal law for practice and profession once your degree is over."

"He's aware."

"But you haven't explicitly told him, right?"

"I didn't expect a renowned lawyer like you to be such a scaredy cat, sir. No offence."

Ansar laughed, liking the guy's retort.

"I'm not scared. I'm just making sure that Atif isn't kept under dark about this. Criminal law and practicing it isn't easy, Mr. Baig. There's a charm in handling high profile cases. I'm not saying there isn't effort involved but criminal law is different. You have to run behind the truth in shabby places and dark alleys before it is swallowed by the social monsters. Your family has produced some of the best lawyers out there, your father is one of those. But they all have always dealt with the cases of higher ups. This shift,"

He pointed at Hesham.

"Is new."

"I don't think I have to explain myself here. You already did that for me. I don't want to spend my life hearing and solving the problems of the rich of this country. I want to do something which interests me. And criminal law is that. You've been the best in the field for years now. If you don't have any problem, can we agree on me interning in your supervision before my Bar council registration?"

"Boy, you're still in your Law school degree."

"I'm graduating soon."

"Are you sure about that."

"Well, almost."

Ansar Minhaj gave a sharp look to Hesham which made him straighten up. All the jokes aside this man wasn't someone to push his limits, he was the best in his business for a reason.

"I have a strict procedure for the people I choose as my interns. If you're ready to follow that and if you fulfil the criteria, I'll be more than happy to get you along. There will be no special treatment. I hope I'm making myself clear here."

Hesham nodded along. He very much wanted this to work out in the long run and for that he needed to cooperate. Atif already knew he had no intentions of joining the family law firm. He was going to make his own path and he was trying his best for it. Atif wasn't the kind of father to put hurdles in his own son's career path. He was going to be cooperative, Hesham knew that.

As he got up to leave Ansar Minhaj's office, he was sure of the path ahead. He was oh so acing it.

______

The sun was setting and under its orange hue the campus was shining more brightly even though it was evening and the usual hustle of the student body had gone silent. The evening classes were also close to completion. Only a few students were idling around either discussing their assignments and projects or just vibing with the flow.

Zonish leaned into the hard stone bench and glared at the document in her hand. She hated being confused and right now, this end semester assignment was confusing the heck out of her. They were supposed to get innovative and do something out of the box. There were no set outlines, thanks to their investigative reporting instructor. Just that it had to be a well documented project.

"Here."

Ramsha, her class fellow and almost always her project partner sat next to her with two classes of shake in her hands. Zonish nodded in acknowledgement, taking one from her. Ramsha eyed the details written on the page in front of Zonish and then looked above at her.

"Are you really sure about re investigating the Musa Behroz case?"

"Really, Ramsha?"

Zonish raised an eyebrow taking a sip from her glass. Ramsha just sighed.

"You do know that we'll have to work so hard for this right? The case was all the rage back then when it happened but no one knows what actually did happen. The details were never disclosed. Musa's mother almost vanished from the scene and she was the one who got the media involved in the first place. By the looks of it, it was some shady business going on."

"The main reason why I'm doing this. Also, Sir. Waqas told us to be as innovative as we can. This is me being innovative."

"This is not going to be easy."

"Nothing is easy in journalism, Ramsha. Especially in this country. Think of it as a prep for what we'll face on the field once we are professionally in there."

"What about the case file? You said you could acquire it."

"I can. I've contacted someone who was following this case closely. I just hope they'll cooperate now. If so, the file will be in our hands by the end of this week."

Ramsha nodded. The lines of worry on her face were still there but not as evident as before.

"Ramsha!"

She looked at Zonish and then nodded with a newly found enthusiasm.

"You're right. We are journalism students. Being a wuss really doesn't suit us. I'm in. Don't worry."

"Now that's like the Ramsha I know."

Zonish went back to the beverage in her hand. The late hours serenity on the campus was soothing. Totally her scene.

"By the way, aren't you a bit busy this week? With Hejab's engagement and stuff?"

"Not that much. It's an intimate ceremony with only immediate family invited. And Saima auntie is so excited that she's taken the responsibility of arranging everything upon her. Good for me. I'm not much into these kind of things. She asked me to appoint a slot for Hejab at the saloon and I even forgot to do that. Since then they are refraining from giving me any task."

Ramsha couldn't stop her laugh. This was so Zonish to do something like this.

"You have only one sister. It wouldn't bite you to seriously take part in her engagement preparations."

Ah. That was the whole point no? Zonish had only one sister and after this ceremony there would be a limit set to their time together. Life was so unfair.

"I'll think about it."

Zonish shrugged her shoulders. Ramsha got busy finishing her shake. And suddenly the evening had lost its charm it was boasting just a few minutes back. It was a normal ending to a normal day.

_______

Closing the book he was immersed in for almost two hours, Izaan dropped himself on the bed and stayed still. Exhausted would be an understatement for him. Days were stretching on and it seemed like he was stuck in a never ending ordeal. Exam season in medical school was the toughest and when you have to make sure of a scholarship continuation, you have to work extra hard. Only two more written and then he'd be left with just vivas and OSCE of two subjects. He was doing fine from his side. The hard work wasn't going in vain. But he was tired. His neck muscles were aching due to the strain and right now he just wanted to relax.

As if right on the cue, his phone pinged. He opened his heavy eyelids and checked the incoming text.

Safwa: All the best for tomorrow's exam.

Safwa: I'm not sending text via WA because I know your phone WIFI is switched off. Nerd.

Safwa: By the way my apologies if I there's no exam tomorrow. I keep on confusing the dates. Not my fault your exams go on for long. Keep my wishes for the day after tomorrow then. Or whenever the exam is.

A smile graced Izaan's tired expression and without thinking any further, he had dialed her number.

"So, you're alive, hun?"

He was talking to her on call after almost two weeks. That busy he was. And it felt all the chaos around him was somewhat getting sorted. He was finally getting back to normal.

"Barely."

There was commotion on her end. Seemed like she was putting utensils away to talk to him with her whole concentration.

"That bad?"

He nodded running his hand through his messy mop. Damn! He surely was a vision right now. No pun intended.

"It's nothing new though. I'm habitual to it. Even though I'm not the kind of person to pile up work and you can't do that in medical school. Still, I feel like a brick loader has run over me."

"Take a break, Izaan."

Her voice was laced with concern. Izaan smiled with his half closed lids.

"I'm almost done for today."

"Ha! As if. You'll get back to your books as soon as this call is over."

"You know me well then."

"That's why I'm saying take a break. It won't bite you. I can feel how exhausted you are even from your voice."

"What were you doing by the way?"

He could hear her sigh. She had sensed his attempt of changing the subject.

"I'm in the kitchen. Baking. We were running low on cookies and that's a no no. There should never be any dearth of cookies in the world. So here I'm, baking a batch for myself and Nusrat Aapa."

"Cookies, hun?"

He said getting up from his seat.

"Yup."

"What kind?"

"Umm plain as well as chocolate chip ones. I can eat both all day though. No favourite treatment."

She smiled holding the phone in between her ear and shoulder all the while whisking the batter she'd made for the cookies.

"You really made me change the topic! But don't forget to take a break Izaan Shoaib otherwise I'll call Memoona auntie and send her to your room. I'm warning you."

"Yeah yeah! I got it. I'm hanging up now."

"Bye and please take care of yourself."

The last thing she heard was his chuckle at her shouting reminder. Safwa sighed. He was overworking himself but that was the way in Med schools. She got back to her previous task hoping that he'd take her words seriously and finally get some needed rest.

It was almost close to half an hour when Safwa heard voices coming from the lounge. She scowled at the door. Bisma? But she said she was busy today and couldn't make it? Must be Hesham. He had the knack of gracing with his presence on unexpected hours.

She wiped her hands and before she could reach the door, the person had stood there already surprising her pleasantly.

"Izaan?"

He scratched his neck sheepishly.

"I thought of taking a break. And you yourself said there are cookies. So..."

Safwa's lips stretched into a smile and then she giggled. The smile reverberated in the kitchen space of Kirmani House. Izaan ran a hand through his hair he had specially combed before coming here. It was no longer an untidy mop of hay. But it wasn't any better either.

"I should brew some coffee too. It won't take much time. The cookies are already set to take out of the oven."

She pointed towards the cooking range. Her hands were working fast pouring the water in the coffee maker.

"Don't...."

"I won't."

She showed him the sugar box tilting it sideways. Izaan sat down on the coffee table close by with his arms folded on his chest.

"You should go and sit in the lounge."

"I'm good. I'm not much help when it comes to baking but I can keep you company."

Safwa laughed and nodded along.

"I'd like that."

As she started narrating the stories of the past two weeks Izaan had missed due to his packed schedule, the conversation flew. They were talking and laughing. She had sat down next to him on the coffee table and now it was his turn to share the hectic schedule he'd been following all those weeks. In short there was no dearth of coffee and cookies for them. The needed break was going on just fine.

Or maybe more than that.

Nusrat Aapa folded the prayer mat and looked to the side. The glass window of the kitchen showed her a very happy duo lost in their own world. They didn't know but in her long after Salah prayer they had found themselves a place. She had seen a story sort of like this back then too. They both found their happy ever after even though they took their leaps. She was sure these two would too, and she hoped there would be no leaps here.

But sometimes, distance and leaps, of faith or lack thereof, are needed. For the hearts to go fonder and stronger.

_______

The dramatics club had made a comeback in full force. The admirers of their hard work in the plays were already excited for what was to come. Today was the big show in the main auditorium. As expected, Elaf Daud was playing the lead role.

So how could Sarim Haider miss it? He made his way through the crowd of students outside of the entrance and found himself a nice seat. Hesham had skipped today because he had to meet someone. The final semesters had made him serious about his future endeavors hence, he was taking it seriously. Safwa had promised to be here as soon as her class got over. Izaan was stuck in his year end exams so it was impossible for him to make it. Sarim was alone here. He had to be. There was never an occasion when Elaf Daud was performing and Sarim Haider missed it. So how could that be the case today?

He had just taken his seat when his phone rang. Elaf's name was flashing on the screen.

"You're here in the auditorium?"

"If the noise around isn't giving it away, yes I'm."

"Can you come backstage?"

"Right now?"

"No, Sherlock, after the show or maybe even later."

"Such a ball of sunshine. I'm on my way."

He got up halfheartedly. His good seat will now be occupied. But he couldn't say no to Elaf now could he?

The backstage was just an open space with few curtains here and there. Sarim stood there trying to find Elaf. He was about to call her when she herself came out from the side which opened into a small room.

Not that Sarim hadn't seen her in costumes with ethnic touch. She would always look beautiful in those. There was never anything over done. Everything had the right amount of needed and she'd look like this setting and the costume was handmade for her. Today they were doing a historic play and she was clad in a simple yet elegant Saree.

"Thank god you're here."

She exclaimed. Her shoulder length hair were adding to her early 50s urban look. She hadn't styled them giving more volume to the layers. Sarim could swore he had seen this in some vintage documentary. It was that accurate.

"Reeja was supposed to be covering the play. She has a good camera but she's nowhere to be found so I have to look for a backup."

Sarim looked around. Elaf rolled her eyes and pointed her finger at him.

"You, mister. You're the backup. You're going to take our photos."

"You sure about that? You can always wait for Safwa."

"I already asked her. She's not arriving any time soon. Her professor is in the mood of a long lecture today. So you're my only safe bet here."

"Why don't I really feel good about it?"

"Because you love pushing my wrong buttons! Not now, Sarim. We need someone to cover the event. And most importantly I spent my time getting ready. There should at least be my photos."

Sarim nodded half convinced. She was right. She should get her photos taken. She was looking good anyway. Not that it was a big deal or the main reason why he was giving up.

"Will you do it or not?"

"Since you're really insisting, okay."

He made it clear it was a great favour on his part. Elaf glared at him but didn't say anything.

"Elaf! It's time!"

Someone shouted and Elaf immediately became alert.

"You should get going now but remember, pictures! Lots of it!"

"Noted, Ma'am."

Sarim bowed. Elaf swatted his arm away and pushed him towards the stairs leading to the main stage outside.

The show started in its usual glory. They were enacting a play centered around partition and familial problems faced by a clan, crashed with difference of opinions and some social themes incorporated in it. It was different from their usual taste and it took Sarim no time to realize that Elaf hadn't written this one. But that didn't stop her from giving her best. Another mind blowing performance from her. She was playing the role of a torn woman who was in a constant battle between her heart and mind. She was questioning and second guessing her own choices. The turmoil was so well played out by Elaf that even the flaws in the other elements took a backseat. At the end everyone was just applauding them for trying their hands on something different and giving such realistic performances.

Sarim's phone was continuously capturing the moments, as he was instructed. But that didn't stop him from taking some extra shots of Elaf Daud. She was, after all the star of this play once again and Sarim Haider, like always was in awe.

"Did you take the pictures?"

Elaf asked, reaching him some ten minutes later. The crowd around was leaving and not many people were left behind sans the dramatic team and their friends. She was checking the pictures with a wide smile on her face.

"Not bad, Sarim Haider. These are nice."

She exclaimed, not taking her eyes off the camera roll. Sarim didn't say anything. He was just looking at her immersed in his phone form.

"The outfit is nice, no? Gotta thank Rabea for arranging for it at such a short notice."

"It's not the outfit."

Elaf looked up from the screen at him. He didn't meet her eye.

"I mean....your acting was nice too. And the whole setting as well."

Elaf smiled. Maybe she was waiting for the right compliment. Maybe he was about to give that. They'd never know. They were just looking at each other and they didn't even hear the click of a camera nearby. The moment had been captured in memory.

A memory had been made.

_______

Bisma wasn't used to welcoming her own family to her new home. It was a feeling and routine which was slowly making its place in her life. Atif had insisted on inviting Safwa and Nusrat Aapa on Lunch. They'd visit anytime they could but Atif wanted to make it special and so here she was, welcoming both Nusrat Aapa and Safwa at Baig House. Hesham was also home, a not so common occurrence these days. He was busy with his own stuff for the past few weeks but his vibe was the same. The jokes and one liners had shifted the mood in no time and now all of them were having a good time.

It was way after the lunch had gotten over. Bisma and Nusrat Aapa were busy in some talks. Atif was on the phone with some client. Hesham yawned and gestured to Safwa to leave for his room upstairs to which she obliged immediately.

"That had started to feel boring."

Hesham exclaimed laying on his bed. Safwa slid the door opening into the balcony looking over the back of the house and the lawn surrounding it. She stood with her elbows resting on the railing. The evening calm was coming onto her in waves. There was something very soothing about this part of Baig House. Safwa had always liked it.

She was aware of Hesham standing next to her. She turned in her place and gave him a look.

"What?"

"You are mostly away from home, Hesham Baig."

"And you're my mom?"

"I'm never having a child as spoilt as you."

"I'm not hurt."

"Good thing. Digesting true facts is a lawyer's trait."

"And being a traitor is yours."

"You're now talking gibberish just for the sake of argument. But seriously, Hesham. Is something going on?"

"Not really. I'm just trying for something and I can't disclose it to Dad yet."

"Are you by any chance tangled in some shady shit?"

"Not you giving me the dubious gaze like Izaan! Am I that hard to trust?"

"You're not. But You aren't easy to put faith in either."

"Thank you for the confidence, Safwa. You're playing the good role of the diaper buddy."

"Phupho feels that you're ignoring home because of her."

Hesham's smiled had vanished.

"The fuck?"

"Oh my goodness! Language!"

"No, seriously. She really thinks like that?"

"She hasn't openly said this to me but I know her. I know she's thinking on those lines. And she's right in doing so. You've been coming back at odd hours and that too for such a short amount of time since her and Atif uncle's marriage."

"Safi, I swear to god that's not the case. I will definitely make it clear to her as well. I'm just taking my career seriously, something I should've done long back. I've realized that I do not fit in the setting which has been going on in my family business for ages. I'm trying to make a way for myself and that's why I'm taking my chances. Let's see where it takes me. But thanks to you, now I know that my absence from home hasn't been getting a good response. I'd make it clear with Bisma Auntie."

This was what Safwa liked the most about Hesham's personality. His easy going nature. He was so nonchalant but in a good way. It was impossible to have complications with him. He was too straight forward for that.

"What about you though?"

"What about me?"

Hesham raised an eyebrow.

"We're talking properly after days. Don't you have anything to tell me? I'm your childhood best friend for goodness's sake."

"Don't be dramatic. It was normal. Shit load of classes which made me miss my other best friend's play. Elaf wasn't happy but she understood. Then I baked a lot too. We were running short on cookies. Izaan visited and he loved them. Sarim and I haven't had the time to sit down and have a good conversation. He's also busy but I'm hoping we all will go somewhere together this week. It's been so long and..."

She was taken aback seeing Hesham's expressions. It was half amusement and half disbelief.

"What?"

"The last time I checked, it's the time of the year for Izaan."

"Hun?"

"His exams. And as far as I remember, he never comes out of his nerd den during those days. Even his own family doesn't see him out of his room much. And you're telling me he came to visit you?"

Safwa swallowed. Then blinked. And then swallowed again.

"I asked him to take a break. He was sounding exhausted."

"And he came to see you. As his study break."

His smile was getting deeper with every passing second. He was looking direct at her face as if he knew something and he'd tell her if she asked. Safwa took a step back and before Hesham knew it, she was out of the balcony and then out of his room.

"Should I elaborate or my friend here is the same genius she has always been?"

He shouted joyfully.

"Hesham Baig! You're an idiot."

Pat came the reply. She was in the hallway going towards the stairs.

"Not more than that moron who came to visit you because well he was on a study break."

No reply. Only the sound of her hurriedly descending the stairs. Hesham laughed out loud. It was mixed with happiness and exhilaration.

Some progress.

About fucking time.

"Language, Baig."

He scolded himself and also left the balcony to join everyone downstairs. He was humming a tune softly.

Must be some love song.

________

It was Hejab's request to keep the engagement function a family affair only, and Saima auntie, who was in charge of the event respected her choice to the t. Zonish could say that seeing how homely and intimate the whole setup was. Everything was bright and shiny. Every face was smiling but not more than Daniyal and Hejab who were sitting on the decorated seats in the middle of the lounge with their families surrounding them. Hejab was beaming. Even though every light was on, still her smile was the most radiating.

Zonish, settled the dupatta of her dress and looked on at the picture being formed in front of her. She'd lie to herself if she said she'd seen Hejab this happy before. And how beautiful she and Daniyal were looking together. Maybe that's what a happy ever after looks like. Zonish hadn't seen one before so she had no idea. But this seemed pretty close to that. Those which are so highlighted in the books.

She chuckled at Hejab's mock glare at something Taimoor had said. He was also in his element today. Hejab was looking around now. Zonish knew what it was. She wanted to take a step forward but didn't. Hejab's eyes had found her standing close to the curtains. She gestured to her to come forward and sit with her.

Zonish just shook her head. Sitting there with her and taking a picture was going to be ultimate proof that the countdown had begun. In a few months, or a year or two, Hejab would get separated from her. In her own life. With her own family and a house she'd call home. And today Zonish didn't want to think about the inevitable. She just wanted to look happy for her sister. And she was. But she was also sad for herself. And she couldn't help it. Hejab was the only home she'd known after their mother's death and now that home would no longer be here.

And Zonish was sure that sense of belonging, that feeling of having a shelter in someone was gone with Hejab. She would never find that again.

Her rang at the same time bringing her out of her troubled thoughts. She had all the intention of cutting the call but seeing Swera Ansar's name on it, stopped. This was the call she was waiting for days. Swera had promised her that she'd get Musa Behroz case file from her father who had kept up with the case till the very end. Barrister Ansar Minhaj wasn't an easy person but his beloved daughter was Zonish's school fellow and a good friend. This was the first time an association with someone had benefited Zonish like this. She was truly thankful to Swera. This call meant the work had been done.

And when she went to the kitchen to take the call, it got confirmed. Swera had assured her she needed not to worry. She could get the file right now as her father was in his study only. Zonish glanced outside at the ongoing ceremony. With a sigh she told Swera that she was coming.

"This is heights, Zonish. Your sister's engagement is going on."

Saima was the person she'd bumped into on her way out of the kitchen. And she thought it was a good idea to let her know she was going for some work right now.

"My friend lives nearby. It wouldn't take long. Half hour at the most."

Saima wasn't convinced but she didn't stop her as well. She knew if Zonish was saying half an hour then would be that only. She was punctual in her timing.

Hejab had looked at Zonish questionably but Saima assured her it was nothing. This was the first time there was something going on between the two and Hejab had no idea what. Things were surely changing.

Thinking about the ceremony she'd just left, about Musa Behroz case, about her almost at the end degree, Hejab's not so far wedding, and cursing Karachi's traffic, Zonish finally parked the car in front of Ansar Minhaj's residence. She was about to enter through the gate but her long dupatta came in the way and she bumped into the person coming out from there.

An annoyed sigh left her mouth. She had regained her balance which prevented her from tipping. But the collision had her head spinning. She was ready to charge when a very familiar voice reached her ears.

"Your car wasn't enough that you've started ramming into people yourself as well?"

Zonish closed her eyes. The universe wasn't at her side today. She opened them and as expected. Hesham fucking Baig.

Just her luck.

But what didn't cross her mind, she was thinking about never getting the feeling of belonging again. And now here she was. But we humans aren't good at reading the signs now are we? We second guess our own epiphanies.

Safwa Kirmani couldn't sleep. How strange is that, something is right in front of us and we refuse to acknowledge it deliberately or obliviously, but when someone else points it out to us, it becomes our biggest truth.

And she was realizing that truth now. And the sudden thought, the very epiphany that this, wasn't something she was unaware of, she just never gave it any thought was making her want to smack her own thought. Oh she was such an idiot. It was right there, right in front of her.

And it was so right.

Izaan Shoaib had finally gotten over with his exams. The feeling was of getting a boulder on a hilltop. No other way to describe it. He had his social and family life on halt for so many days and now that he was free, he wanted to get back to those as soon as possible.

But today was for himself. As he settled himself on the pillows with a forgotten poetry book opened in front of him with a bag of cookies, both things given to him by the same person, he was having the best time ever.

He didn't realize that he wasn't a fan of poetry. He just knew this was something he wanted to do.

Elaf Daud was looking at the pictures sent by Sarim Haider with a widening smile on her face. There was not one shot she disliked or found any mistakes in. It was almost perfect.

Almost. Because what Marva had just sent her with an angel emoji was something which was filling that almost. A shot of her and Sarim sitting close to the stage, his phone in her hands, and their eyes on each other.

Perfect.

She didn't twice and sent that picture to Sarim. She couldn't keep this to just herself.

And Sarim Haider, who was sitting close to his mother and Irma, listening to their talks glanced at what Elaf had just sent him. His smile deepened. He pocketed his phone lest Irma should see the picture and make a racket out of it.

But this was Sarim's perfect. He was surrounded by the most important women in his life. And there's nothing else he'd want to be.

_________