Trigger warning: Mention of accident, blood and death 

If the administration of IST was hoping for things to calm down over the course of the next few days, then they were in for a rude awakening. What Reeja's own statement couldn't do alone, with the help of most of the dramatics club, was done like a piece of cake. Whatever happened was at the tip of the tongue of everyone in the premises of the university. Students were actually curious to find out what would happen now. Some were sorry that Reeja had to go through something so traumatizing, while others were angry at the university authorities that such an incident happened on university grounds. Parents were also getting to know about it and overall instead of getting control over the situation, it was getting out of hand for the dean committee.

But the most perturbed was the family of Furqaan Akmal. He had his own uncle's team staging a whole setup against him and that didn't sit well with him. There was a huge family showdown and now they were all thinking of coming up with a solution to this messy situation. Doing harm to Reeja and her family wasn't an option because that would definitely make their position questionable as everyone's first suspect would be them only.

Getting the public opinion to their side was looking next to impossible at the moment because Furqaan's rage and temper wasn't news to anyone and many people were coming to the conclusion that he was, indeed, capable of pulling something like this just to satisfy his ego toxic masculinity. This was making him angrier than ever. And he was a mess when he was angry.

He was told by both his parents and other family members time and again to keep his temper in check or to forget university till things cool down a bit. But it was a cowardly way out and Furqaan in his own perspective was anything but a coward.

So he attended every single class, never missed any day and saw the support for him just because Reeja's character looked questionable to people, dwindling every passing second. He was at the ends of his wits and he wasn't never the one to use them when he was needed to.

So that's what he did. Didn't listen to the small voice at the back of his head which was telling him to abort the mission. It happened in the Architecture department. Two female students were going in full support for Reeja and calling out Furqaan's entitlement and family influence. Furqaan got angry and didn't even realize that he was standing in front of the office of Mrs. Tahira Nawaz, the Director General of the said department. The two girls barely escaped from his violence thanks to the intervention from the people around and their own quick senses. When Furqaan pulled back it was too late.

Mrs. Tahira was right outside of her office and had apparently witnessed the whole thing unfolding.

And that's where Furqaan knew he was done for.

_____

Reeja had gotten so many text messages during her lecture that it was getting difficult to concentrate. She pocketed her phone and nodding in the professor's direction came out of the lecture hall. She turned the corner and found a secluded space behind the notice board. The red bricks of the walls weren't doing much to obscure her clad in complete black form, but the hallway was mostly empty. She sat down and unlocked her phone.

With each text message she was reading her eyes were narrowing some more. She had gotten Whatsapp videos too from the people who had recorded the incident. Friends, acquaintances, class fellows and just no ones. She was getting messages of a different range of rage and elation from everyone. But one thing was common.

Furqaan had lost his case completely.

And Reeja felt so empty after knowing that he was finally going to get what he deserved. There were no feelings inside of her whatsoever. She sighed deeply and got up. She slung her bag over her shoulder when a looming shadow made her stop in her tracks. She immediately turned around.

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

Hamza asked with an apologetic smile thrown her way. Reeja shook her head. She was easily startled these days but he didn't need to know that.

"You must've seen..."

"I did."

She didn't want to have this conversation. Not with him anyway. Looking up, her eyes collided with his. The old Reeja would've swooned and started panicking that her crush was finally talking to her. It was no news. Reeja was smitten for him and the whole university and the adjoining campuses also knew this. She had never tried to hide it anyway and Hamza never stopped her. It was like an unspoken something growing between them.

But that was before everything turned to dust and now she wasn't the same Reeja. And maybe he wasn't the same Hamza too. He was, in a way, the same but Reeja had taken the rose colored glasses off and now everything which would make him the only person she'd set her eyes on, had faded into an abyss of nothingness.

"I should get going."

She mumbled trying to walk past him but he stood in the way. A reasonable distance.

"Why aren't you happy?"

"Because I don't think it's something to be happy about."

He nodded as if understanding where she was coming from. He wouldn't though. He wasn't capable.

"Just so you know, I always knew you were telling the truth."

She should've been the happiest person alive. But that was it. That person was dead.

"Since when?"

"Hun?"

She folded her arms on her chest and looked him right in the eyes. The perfect shade of coffee brown. But she no longer liked coffee. It added to her anxiousness.

"Did you believe me when I made that post on Facebook?"

He looked confused for a second and then he was silent. Reeja smiled bitterly.

"That's what I thought. Now that everyone's suddenly on my side, you are too. Joke's on me though. I used to think you were so much. Seems like you ain't shit."

"Reeja..."

"Do you see what's happening here? You're telling me you think I was right all along in an empty hallway, Hamza. That too when we are hidden from the prying eyes or any eye for that matter behind this wall. This is how you do something you think is a sin. Maybe going against your gender and siding with us seems like a sin to you? That's why the words of comfort, the hand of help always come behind a closed door."

Her outburst had made Hamza more silent than he already was. Reeja took a deep breath.

"Thank you for your trust but no, thank you. I should definitely get going now."

She moved away from him. And no part of her heart protested. And that moment she concluded, it was all a mirage.

He was just a figment of her imagination. She made him who he wasn't.

Looking back at him slumped shoulders and a resign smile on his face, as if he too realized this. He too understood that they were never meant to be in the vast planning of the universe.

"Good bye, Hamza. You were too good to be true and the true you is too painful to hold on to."

And then Reeja never looked back.

_____

The meeting of the board of deans was held in an emergency and this happened only for matters of immediate concern. Mrs. Tahira looked over at her seniors and colleagues. She was the one who was eye witness to the agenda of this meeting so she was sitting ready to narrate what she'd seen and give her opinion on what the course of the situation should be from here on.

"Mrs. Tahira is our respectable colleague. She saw it happening with her own eyes and moreover we have CCTV cameras installed in the hallway of the dean's office. The situation is clear. Furqaan Akmal assaulted two innocent students who had nothing to do with him. He's also has been involved in some other squabbles over the years and not to forget the allegations by Reeja Inayat. We can't keep this under wraps. The whole student body is looking towards us to take some action. We can't just sit idle and do nothing."

"We can't keep on ignoring this just because his parents and family are influential and he has contacts in the university administration as well."

The dean of Arts department gave a seething look to Professor Kaleem who just looked away.

"Suspending the kid is our only option. He can come back once the situation gets bet..."

"He shouldn't."

Mrs. Tahira interjected politely which was her usual way of conversing with people. No hard tone. No demand for attention. She was a beloved teacher who was respected a lot and that respect was the thing which made everyone around her silent.

"I've seen what this kid is capable of and I'm sorry for the word I'm going to use here but he's a menace. To his own reputation and also the name of this university. Parents are already speaking. The other institutes are also getting interested. And most importantly, our students aren't safe around him. I don't care what long strings he's going to pull to stay here but we all have to make a choice which is for the best of everyone. He needs to get expelled. And never return."

There were murmurs of both agreement and the opposite. Mrs. Tahira leaned back in her chair gauging the average atmosphere of the room. She was a woman on a mission.

Furqaan Akmal was getting expelled. And she would make sure of it.

_________

Elaf pulled away her phone where the picture of the recently issued notification was opened and looked at Reeja.

"Reeja, he's gone. He got expelled."

"I heard you for the first time and I've seen the notification too."

"Then why this mellow response?"

Reeja sighed. They were sitting at the far corner of the sports ground. Opposite to it was the breakfast cafe. The smell of freshly prepared tea and prathas along with toasts and eggs was wafting around.

"Because imagine if he hadn't lost control and assaulted the two girls. We would've never seen what we are seeing now."

Elaf suddenly felt stupid. Reeja was right and her disappointment was also justified. Furqaan messed up and that's how things rolled the way they did.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It's just morbidly comical that I've gotten rid of the scum. He got his due but it didn't happen because of what he did to me. Twisted society. A woman has won but she still feels she's lost."

"You haven't lost anything. He was worked up because the general narrative was changing. People had started to see sense and started taking your side."

"Well, thanks to them then. Not really. But the genuine thanks should be directed at you. You are the person who's lost the most while fighting for me."

Elaf shook her head. It hurt. Whenever she'd walk past the auditorium without even glancing in its way it hurt. It hurt to let her ongoing plays incomplete. It hurt to never dress up like a character again. But she was determined to do fine on her own and she was trying her best.

"That was nothing. Just forget it alright. You guys are more bummed than me and that's not right."

"We should be. We all know how passionate you were for that. I'm so sorry, Elaf."

"You don't have to be. Please. That was the least I could do and if I knew that professor Kaleem had anything to do with that trash Furqaan, I'd have done it even earlier."

"I've no doubts that you would've."

The silence stretched between the two before Elaf spoke up.

"So, the exchange program is on?"

"Yes, I've worked on all the details and documents required. I think I'll be able to leave in a week or two. If I do well in the interview. But I'm good at one on one talk so I think I've got this."

"I'm rooting for you. This is something you not only deserve but need as well. You need to get away from this hellhole and focus on yourself. Nothing better than a change of society, me thinks."

"That's the plan."

Reeja gave her a warm smile. The warmest she'd smiled all these days. She was going to be so busy in the other formalities of the program she was opting for so this might be the last time two friends made under unfortunate circumstances were sitting down and talking. How strange this was. It had been just two weeks since Reeja and Elaf had been friends. Reeja was going her own way. She hadn't told anyone this but she had no plans of returning even after the exchange program ended. She was hoping to work hard to get a scholarship for her masters too. They were offering this to the students excelling in the program. Elaf Daud had been her friend just for two weeks but Reeja was going to remember her for years to come. Some people have this charm of staying in people's memory even after they've disappeared from their lives and Elaf was going to be that friend for Reeja.

_______

The atmosphere inside the car was solemn. Daud wasn't used to his daughter looking so lost in her own thoughts that she would stay silent without uttering a single word. They've heard about the incident at the campus and since then it was decided that Elaf's pick and drop was Daud's responsibility. No more commuting through public transport and no staying at the university premises more than needed as well. Him and Yusra didn't know if Elaf was friends with the girl who had to endure all that, but seeing her gloomy mood, they could tell she was.

It was the first time Elaf was dodging the topic and both Daud and Yusra thought it was best not to prod her any further. She'd talk about things when she'd be comfortable talking. Till then they'd do their best to make her feel better in any way they could.

This was an attempt for that only. As Daud stopped the car in front of Granna's. The coffee house was just a five minutes drive from the university campus and Elaf had mentioned it so many times during her stories of her university life. Daud felt he knew the place even without visiting it once.

"Why are we here?"

She asked, looking around as Daud parked the car.

"I've heard they have the best chocolate chip brownies. So thought of trying those."

Elaf smiled lightly. He was using her words.

"It's your favourite place, no?"

He asked as they came to the counter. The place was almost filled. No empty table in sight. But Elaf didn't try much to locate one either. She didn't feel like staying. They would just pick the brownies and leave.

"You wanna stay?"

Daud asked once he had placed their order. Elaf shook her head. She knew how tired Daud was after a long day at work. The fact that he was doing all this to make her mood better was already making her feel like a troublesome kid.

"Baba, you didn't have to."

"Why not? My daughter loves their brownies."

"But you're tired."

"What? No. I'm perfectly alright."

She narrowed her eyes at him but then smiled lightly. He was trying to cheer her up. After getting their package, they made their way back to the parking area. Elaf was fixing her seatbelt when Daud spoke up.

"You know you can share everything with you mother and I right? That we are always there for you?"

Elaf held his arm. The smile on her face wasn't forced. Not in the slightest.

"I know, Baba. And I'm thankful for that."

He didn't ask anything further. And Elaf felt an ease spreading through her being. She couldn't tell her parents why she was so down these days. Not being able to perform was more difficult than she thought but at least she ended up here doing something right. The pain will subside. She always knew she had no future with this arrangement when she couldn't take up dramatics as a profession or career line so maybe it was all in for the best.

Yusra was already waiting for them at the front door. A contented smile stretched on her face seeing Elaf and Daud.

"Finally I get to see my daughter in a better mood. Never knew Brownies from her favourite place were the trick."

"You guys haven't seen Safwa's enthusiasm for the place though. She thinks no one can bake like Granna and she's ready to fight anyone who disagrees."

Yusra shook her head still smiling and the trio made their way inside. Elaf hadn't failed to notice, she wasn't that immersed in her own self pity to not see that her parents were trying their best to cheer her up and even tried making her talk her problems out. She appreciated this. But she couldn't tell them what was going on. That wasn't a possibility and that was something she had to figure out on her own.

"You both should freshen up. I'm getting back to the Dinner. Should be ready in a few."

Yusra's voice trailed back as Elaf opened the door of her room. Her eyes roamed at her study table and fixed on the journal placed to the side. She looked away. She wasn't letting it get to her once again.

She was a normal girl. As normal as she could be. If this passion for theater was excluded, then sure she was normal and she was regular. Getting a very common degree. With very common habits and a very common style.

She dropped herself on the bed.

The only thing that made her stand out was this very passion of hers.

But how far could she go for it? There was so much at stake and thinking of the odds she decided that it was best if she was just another normal common girl in her early twenties.

Maybe this was the biggest scheme of the things all along. She was meant to lose this. It was meant to be taken away. Because it didn't fit. And if she went on with this then she didn't fit.

She thought of her parents and her lifestyle. Their expectations and their hopes. Their love and their care.

She was normal. Yeah, she was.

But she didn't for once think about that one person for whom she was always extraordinary. Someone who lived her passion and called it her life.

If she thought of him, maybe, just maybe the idea of giving up on the dreams in her journal wouldn't be so easy for her.

_______

"I'm actually pretty offended, you know. The moment I got back from Lahore Ammi was right after me to visit your place and look at you, asking us to not come. The love is really showing, Irma."

Irma just laughed in return.

"If you want to come over and see a very tired and sleep Irma then go on. Ammi will take care of my kitchen and you will put the trash out. The offer is not so bad."

Sarim rolled his eyes.

"No thanks. We are fine here."

"Your choice. But honestly I feel bad. If I knew moving to a new place entailed attending parties and gatherings with Mohid every other day, then I would've given it much more thought."

"As long as you're enjoying everything is great."

"Oh, I'm enjoying myself. I get to meet almost all of my batch mates on a regular basis now. It feels like we are back to that golden phase. I kind of lost touch with so many of them after graduation and now I'm getting reacquainted. It's fun and nostalgic too."

Sarim could tell how happy Irma was from her voice itself. Marrying her own class fellow in an arranged setting had worked out well for her in the long run. Sarim was slowly letting go of his doubts, the whispers on the back of his mind that something was going to go wrong. He shook those off. Every time he met Irma after her marriage, he had to. She was happier than she ever had been in this house and that was what mattered the most to Sarim.

Irma kept on sharing stories after stories like he was her bestie forever but Sarim didn't stop her. He liked how freely she was talking, a stark contrast from how she was always trying to evade whenever the topic moved towards her and her thoughts. So, Sarim listened to her with a smile, occasionally adding his two cents and hearing a long whine from her.

When he ended the call, it was already pretty late. He leaned into his pillow and opened his call log. His thumb lingered on a name he so wanted to talk to but now wasn't the time. So instead he sent a good night message.

And when after fifteen minutes the blue ticks didn't appear, he knew Elaf was fast asleep.

He just hoped she was having good dreams.

________

Hesham peeked inside the lounge and found Bisma working on some files there. He took long strides and reached her side. She was also now aware of his presence. Giving him a warm smile she gestured to him to sit down next to her.

"I'm here to confront you."

His tone was serious. Bisma scowled. What could it be?

"Confront?"

She asked, raising an eyebrow. Hesham nodded, finally sitting down.

"You told Safwa that you feel I don't come home often because of you."

Bisma sighed. Best friends. Never any secrets between them.

"Seriously, Bisma auntie. You really think I would leave home for this. If you don't remember, I was the biggest supporter of your and Dad's marriage. In Fact I can bet cupid himself was jealous of me."

"There's no cupid."

"Exactly because there's Hesham Baig."

This boy and his comebacks. Bisma didn't know whether to laugh or act stern.

"Yes, I did say this to Safwa. Because I was worried."

"You could say that to me as well, you know. I thought we were that close even before you came into this house."

"We still are. But we can't deny, Hesham. Our relationship has changed. Now, I'm not just Bisma auntie, your best friend's Phupho. I'm at that place where once your mother was and this changes so much. I know you have been very supportive of me and Atif but I don't want you to ever feel left out in your own house because of me. That's not even the last thing I'll ever want."

Hesham nodded understandably and held Bisma's hand. He realized her warmth was akin to Memoona auntie's and that woman, Hesham was sure, was the closest to a mother he'd ever have.

"Our relation has changed, auntie. But not our equation. And you're not just Safwa's phupho for me. You have never been. You are the elder I can always go to with my problems and you'll have a solution ready to help me. You are that elder I can always trust to have faith in me. You're more than what you think, for me and for this house. You haven't taken anyone's place but just rightly got to where you were always supposed to be, the place you have made by yourself. So, please never ever let these thoughts come in between our beautiful bonding that I'm avoiding you or something. I just happen to be a very ambitious fella who's trying his best to make a mark on his own so that he wouldn't have to run this stinky law firm of his father's for a long time. It's my backup, yes, but right now it's nowhere in my plan A and now that you know it, you aren't supposed to tell your husband. I will break the good news myself."

The easy route his deep talk took at the end made both him and Bisma laugh.

"I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Hesham. For always being so easy going."

He acknowledged it with a bow.

"I'm almost done with these files. I was getting the work done so that I could go and meet Safi. I miss my baby. You want to come?"

He shook his head making his way towards the fridge.

"Some other time. I have some digging to do."

"Don't do anything illegal."

"I'll try but no promises."

Bisma shook her head and walked towards her and Atif's room to get ready. Hesham opened the carton of the juice and started sipping straight from it. His other hand was fumbling with his phone. A satisfied smirk was playing on his lips. He dialed the number.

On the third ring, a very frustrated Zonish literally barked through the phone.

"What!!?"

Hesham so wanted to snort but behaved.

"My sources say that you are not at all considering making me a part of your team."

"Well your sources are absolutely right. Pay them well."

"My sources also say that you're having great difficulty in reading the case. Just the case file isn't enough. You can't even go to the locations without any help."

"You know what? I will murder your sources and make it look like an accident."

"I'll love to see you try. By the way, I might or might not know someone who can get you entry into the news agency which reported Moosa's case without any bias or pressure."

He could clearly feel her frustration and how she was contemplating taking his offer. So, she definitely was having difficulty. He really needed to pay his sources well as she had asked him to.

"Text me the time you'll be available."

"I'm always available, Ma'am."

"Shut up, stop making it weird than it already is. Be on time and I swear to God if anything goes wrong I will kick you in your....!"

"Now now, don't get ahead of yourself. We are not getting there anytime soon."

Another frustrated sigh and she had ended the call.

Hesham laughed. Today was a good day.

_______

The day Izaan Shoaib got into medical school, he knew that panic had no place in his professional and student life from there on. His whole job description was to do your best and do not panic. If you do, the patient is already on their wits ends. He learnt that lesson and kept it with him for the four years he was in medical school.

But today he slipped. And slipped so bad.

He was with his group, their regular rotation in the surgery ward. They were taking notes and listening carefully to the HOD when it happened.

The hospital's emergency, which was right next to the surgery ward, erupted in chaos. A huge collision between a local bus and a bike. The same after story of pain and blood. The whole ER was in panic and frenzy. Nurses and ward staff were running around. Doctors were being called from their duty. The wounds were getting cleaned. Some were not even in a state to be even dab properly.

Although it was his fourth year in medical school, Izaan was seeing this rope pulling between life and death for the first time. Dr. Raza, their HOD was tending to a patient and Izaan was standing close by. The patient needed immediate medical assistance and it was being provided to him. Blood was trickling down his head and onto his shirt. Dr. Raza was shouting some instructions. Something about getting an OR prepared. Izaan's whole focus was on the boy in front of him. He was looking directly at Izaan. Izaan didn't think much and held his hand. He knew what was happening. He hadn't been in this state before but maybe it was a doctor's intuition.

The boy had died with his hand in Izaan's.

He had no idea how he spent the rest of his day at the hospital, how he drove his bike and went home. He was disturbed. Not in a way anyone would be. He was a doctor and this was the part of his life, not now but in the future this would be what he'd deal with everyday or most of the days. But he also was just a twenty two year old boy who had gotten this experience very early on in life and even by the standard of his profession as well.

Right now he was pacing the length of his room trying his best to not think about what had happened. He had just gotten home and had no energy to let his family know he was home yet.

"Izaan?"

He looked up and to his utter surprise a confused Safwa was looking at him. Clad in a loose shirt and trousers with her duppata slung over her shoulder and the ends tied at her side. Her long straight hair in a messy bun and both her hands smeared with flour.

She must be here to bake with Memoona. Izaan's mind registered her disheveled state but before he could think any other rational thought, his heart, his anxious heart took over. Like it had sensed the comfort in the form of the person in front of him. Comfort he was craving so much right now. No. His mind screamed. Just this once. His heart pleaded. And his heart won over his ever winning mind.

In few strides he had diminished the distance between him and Safwa and soon his arms were around her form. Face snuggled into the warmth of her neck and shoulder and his hand resting on her back. He was still. Not moving. Just having his fill of this moment because she was the balm on his aching heart at this moment. What he needed the most.

Safwa's stiff body immediately relaxed, her hands which were hanging to her sides came hesitantly, and then confidently around his broad shoulders. The gesture was enough to tell him she was there and no matter what it was, he wasn't alone.

They both stood there. Unmoving. Not going any further. But not taking what they had just started back as well.

"Are you okay?"

Safwa's muffled voice reached his ear.

"I'm trying to."

He whispered back.

"You'll be okay. I'm here."

"I know. I know you're here. "

She nodded and stubbing the urge of asking him what was wrong just closed her eyes. This moment shouldn't be wasted in the talks of whys and hows. It was the first time Izaan Shoaib had admitted to himself that he needed Safwa Kirmani close and acted on his whims too. This moment deserved to stay as it is.

Raw and pure.

______

Bisma looked at the clock once again and sighed. She was here for fifteen minutes and upon arriving she was told by Nusrat Aapa that Safwa was at Izaan's place, mainly to teach his mother baking and spend time with his grandfather. Bisma had few questions but she kept them to herself. Now wasn't the time.

Her wait finally got over when after next fifteen minutes, Safwa's car stopped at the entrance of Kirmani house. Bisma got up to greet his beloved niece. Safwa entered inside and seeing Bisma her face morphed into an expression of pleasant surprise. She was hugging and talking to Bisma just like she always did.

But Bisma had raised this girl in front of her since she was a baby and there was one thing which Safwa didn't know, those who knew her well, she was an open book to them and right now Bisma had read that open book and it was telling her something was going on. Something she had no idea about but something she should know everything about.

As Safwa placed a hand on her cheek and excused herself to freshen up, Bisma watched her retreating back and then turned to an oblivious Nusrat Aapa.

"She goes there a lot?"

"Where?"

"To her friend's place?"

Nusrat Aapa nodded. There was a hint of a smile on her face which Bisma tried her best not to fret over. It was almost like Nusrat Aapa knew something she didn't.

"Yes, she's found a book friend in his grandfather and his mother is such a sweetheart. They make our Safi happy and that looks good on her."

Bisma nodded.

"Where does this friend live though? It took her a while to get home even though you told me she'd left from there when I got here."

"Gulshan-e-Iqbal. You know Karachi's traffic and you also know how far apart Clifton and Gulshan are. So that's why."

Bisma nodded again. She wasn't saying anything and when she wasn't saying anything it meant she was thinking.

Thinking hard.

_______

Roshna tried her best to tune out the sound of honking outside of her house but the person was one of his kind. She didn't even have to know who it was. Her luck was on the rotten side today. First the house was immersed in darkness due to some problem in the electricity line and then her mother was in a bad mood due to this recurring problem and KE Electric's negligence. And now a very frustrating Kumail at her doorstep. Fantastic.

She took out her phone and called him.

"Do you realize when someone's not opening the door even after your mad honking, it means they don't wanna see you!"

"Roshna, you can be sassy some other time. Open the damn door, the electrician is with me."

"What?"

She immediately got up from where she was sitting on the couch in the moonlight and almost ran to open the door. Her Ammi beat it to her though. She had just gotten up from the prayer mat and was now giving Roshna a very angry expression due to her laziness.

"Don't your ears work or you were again pretending that the world doesn't exist after plugging those headphones in? "

"Ammi!"

She whined and pointed towards the door. Her mother looked confused but soon understood what she was getting at. Opening the door, Roshna invited Kumail and the man with him inside. She was contemplating introducing him to her mother but it is Kumail we are talking about. He took it in his hands from there on and soon he was showing the electrician the main board with Roshna's mother right beside him. She was telling every issue ever happened in the switch board to Kumail who was asking the electrician to listen to her and try fixing things accordingly.

Roshna stood to the side looking at them in the pale glow of a mobile flashlight. How Kumail was totally immersed in this as if it was his own problem. How he had brought the electrician when he had just fleetingly mentioned it in their Whatsapp conversation. And how easily he had made a rapport with her mother, her mother who never easily trusted anyone, something about single mothers but Kumail was winning here as well.

It was way after the electricity had come back on, her mother was in the kitchen and calling out to Kumail again and again to not leave without having dinner and he was more than willing to do that. Roshna stood facing the large backyard of her house. She was looking up at the stars and moon. The clear sky and the constellations, no matter how far they were.

"Do you even think that there's a world beyond our own, somewhere in the skies, among the stars, where people like us reside, or maybe people made from the pieces of our souls, like our other halves somewhere there. Doing what we could never do in life, living like we never could do here."

Kumail shook his head. Her question was fascinating. But it was for fiction to work on it. He was unfortunately a medical student.

"Have you watched a sci-fi movie recently?"

"You are sometimes thicker than a medical book."

He grinned and she looked disappointed. The usual of theirs.

And as Mrs. Mukkaram looked at them through the kitchen window, she smiled for the first time that day.

__________

Elaf made some incomprehensible patterns on the floor and then made a face. It didn't turn out the way she wanted it to. Sarim, who was sitting next to her on the raised berth, grinned. But refrained from making any comment.

They were meeting like this for the first time after the day of the play. Elaf was avoiding everyone. She couldn't do it for much longer with Safwa and Hesham but Sarim wasn't impatient, he gave her as much time as she wanted and waited for her to get into it whenever she was ready to talk about it. Seemed like she was now.

"I've decided to not do anything about theater and play writing. Not for the next few months."

Sarim was surely expecting a rant, a heated monologue, and a wicked idea to get out of this, but this defeated decision with resignation? He wasn't expecting this at all.

"I have contemplated everything thoroughly and I think it's best if I just let it go. I was doing it behind my parents' especially my father's back. My studies would also often get affected due to this and honestly I don't think I was that good as well. Narmeen probably writes better stuff than me. I was just vibes and feels."

"Decide first, are you convincing me or yourself."

Elaf didn't look at him. She didn't want to. She couldn't.

"Look at me."

"You are handsome but no, sir. I'm not looking."

"Elaf, look at me."

He was stern this time. And she finally did as he had asked her to.

"Don't do this. You don't want to."

"Don't talk about me when I can do that myself very well. I should concentrate on what actually matters now. Maybe this expulsion from the Dramatics club was my rude awakening."

"Wakening from what exactly? You aren't doing anything illegal, for god's sake!"

"I wasn't but I was lying to my parents."

"They need to sit through one of your plays. Trust me they'll understand when they get to see how good you are."

"I'm not. I'm just...Forget it. Let's drop this topic. I have a feeling we are about to get into an argument."

"I can't. You are giving up on something for your own made lame reasons. I won't let you do this."

"Newsflash: I can decide for myself!"

Sarim narrowed his eyes.

"I highly doubt that."

"What do you mean!"

She was also in rage now.

"You can decide for yourself? You're giving up on something you've worked so hard on, Elaf, just because you aren't sure how your parents, your father will react to it. Are you hearing yourself right now?"

"Don't you dare talk about my reasons and my father. Just because you have a bad relationship with yours doesn't mean everyone else has to too!"

Done. Damage done from both sides. As soon as the words left Elaf's mouth, a flash of regret appeared in her eyes. But it was late.

"Sarim...I..."

He shook his head and picked up his bag.

"You were right. I should've dropped it. We indeed ended up in an argument."

Before she could say anything further, he walked out of there.

And Elaf could feel the sting of her tears at the back of her eyes.

_________

"Safwa?"

Nusrat Aapa found the door to her room ajar and that was the cue that she could enter inside. Safwa was lying on the bed, her back facing Nusrat Aapa. Her face was covered by the pillow. The whole evening with Bisma as well, Safwa was lost somewhere. And Nusrat Aapa was worried. Safi was the happiest when she was surrounded by her family but today that wasn't the case.

"You refused for dinner as well. What's going on, Bachay?"

Nusrat Aapa patted her head in an affectionate manner. Safwa turned her head sideways and looked at her. She was smiling but there was pain to it somewhere.

"Aapa do you remember that story you used to tell me a few years back. That famous Punjabi folk tale."

"Mehru's story?"

She nodded.

"Yes. What was that? I remember bits and pieces but not the whole thing. Can you narrate it to me once again?"

Nusrat Aapa nodded and Safwa placed her head in her lap.

"Once upon a time, in a small village of Punjab, there lived a girl with a smile that could rival the sun and the eyes in which the river Chenab could be encompassed. Mehru was her name. She was made for getting love, giving love and spreading love. But she never thought she was one to fall in love. She never thought she could do that to herself. Love promises pain and longing. Love destroys but love sews the broken threads too. But Mehru was adamant. Mohabbat wasn't for her. She was for it. But it wasn't for her.

War was raging in the world outside. Mehru had a childhood friend she loved to annoy and tell all her fabricated stories too. She always thought when she was with him they were just Mehru and her best friend. But the war was getting closer to home. Mehru realized this when her childhood friend was in the brown uniform, standing in front of his house, ready to leave for the war and never come back. Mehru felt her heart was being pierced. She held his hand, he left her grip. She ran and ran and ran. After him. The railway station came but she didn't stop. Neither did the train. It took him away. From the village and from her. And that moment Mehru knew..."

Nusrat Aapa stopped talking when she felt her lap being damp. She worriedly made Safwa look at her. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Mehru knew she was in love. Love had come for her. Mehru was in love. Mehru had always been in love."

Saying that, she hugged Nusrat Aapa tightly and started crying in earnest.

At that moment Nusrat Aapa didn't know who Mehru was and who Safwa was. Because, both were in love and both knew it.

The first terrifying realization of love.

____________

A/N: Mehru's story is my fav bit from the chapter, what's yours? Also do you have any faces you associate with these characters? If you do, do lemme know.

Happy reading. 

Love 

Aims <3

Also, 4'o clock by RM and V goes very well with the feel of this chapter. Do listen to it. It's on soundcloud.