پاداش- padaash

صلہ، بدلہ، عوض، مکافات، جزا-
reward, recompense, compensation, requital, retribution, retaliation.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

If the son of Adam had a valley filled with gold, then he would love to have two valleys of gold out of his greed, which is part of his nature. He will continue to be greedy for worldly possessions until he dies and his mouth and belly are filled with the dirt of his grave.

The older she grew, the younger her greed became. She had been brought up in a religious family, although they followed Islam, their beliefs were passed on in the form whispers of generation. They believed what they were taught, in the guise of the Qur'an they followed the whispers of evil. At a young age, Rukhsana had witnessed her mother murdering her Father and giving him a ghusl all by her herself so people didn't notice the marks of struggle on his body. The reason being money, her mother would pray five times, and when she had asked her why had she murdered she had simply replied:

Khuda ibedat guzar logon ki saarey gunnah bakhshta hai

She didn't feel remorse when she saw the body of her dead father, or even when she was giving him his last bath. It was genuine curiosity, as she watched her mother who would beg for every penny suddenly dancing in the bundle of riches. As she grew up she realised that was wrong, she was given countless chances for redemption.

But along with the gift of Ibadat she carried the curse of greed. The greed stuck with her for lifetime, rotting away the empathy in her heart. She prayed then snatched away Zubiya's property and abused her. Her tears were merely a sound of annoyance to her, she had empathy.

"Us Miraal ko laanat ho! Dono haramzaadiyon ko meri bad dua lagegi", Rukhsana Begum spat out, she sat on the khatya of a small home. Her mouth twisted in grimace as she recited astaghfaar on the prayer bead.

(I hope Miraal doesn't have a moment of peace, the two bas**** will suffer for eternity)

The entire family, that's Haroon Qureshi's two brothers had to return to the village, they no longer had any source of income, all these years they had leached off the money from Haroon but now they had to return to their humble beginnings.

Zoheb brought a cup of tea to her and sat beside her, "Ammi rehne dena, gao bhi toh accha hi hai. Taazi hawa hai yaha, koi shor ya pollution nahi", he tried to cheer her.

( let it be, I like the village. The air here is so fresh, there is no noise or air pollution)

Rukhsana glared at him and slapped his arm in anger as she screamed, " Nalayak tere wajeh se mujhe ye sab jhelna padh raha hai! Uss din Miraal ko kyun bhaagne diya, tujhe kabhi apni khudki Maa par taras nahi aaya?" (All of this is happening because of you! Why did you let her escape? Why didn't you pity me!)

Zoheb recoiled and softly tried to console her, "Aaya tha na Maa, jab Abraar Khan ne aapke sir par goli rakhi thi tab meri ruh kaanp gayi thi. Aur aakhir mai aapke saath hi toh aaya hu" (I stopped breathing for a second when Khan had pointed the gun at your head. And alas I chose you over my wife)

She raised her foot and threw the slipper at him, "Toh ahsan kiya kya mujh par, aur meri aulad hota toh Zubiya ko tala'aq deta" (So? If you were my child then you would have divorced Zubiya at that very instant!)

Zoheb shook his head, "Ammi itni zaalim bhi mat ban, us bichari ka kya kasoor. Woh to bachpan se aapki maar khaati aayi, jab bhi mai galti karta toh uska bhi naam par Zubiya lagta tha"

(...don't be so unrepentant, what was her fault? The amount of injustices she had faced since childhood makes me pity her)

"Zanmurid, biwi ke liye Maa se zubaan ladayega?" she gritted out her anger flying as the scarf from her head lowered. (Will you talk back to your mother because of your wife?)

"Sahi toh bol raha hu Maa, mai aapki izzat karta hu magar Zubiya meri biwi hai..", he trailed off, he was staring at his feet in defeat. (Mother I respect you but she is my wife...)

"Haye fir ruk kyun nahi gaya uske paas?" she taunted.

(... Then why didn't stay with her?)

"Kya izzat reh jaati meri? Woh Miraal ka ghar hai, usme mai uske ahsaan se nahi reh sakta tha. Aur Maa tune hum dono par bohot zulm kiya, zabardasti nikkah karwa diya", he argued now fed up with his mother's heartlessness. Zoheb had always been a silent spectator but now when he was subjected to it, his heart ached.

(What kind of man would I have been? That was Miraal's house, I couldn't live on her money or help. And mother you were extremely cruel for forcing us into this marriage)

"Tu yaha se dafa nahi hua toh maine tera sir phod dena hai Zoheb!"

(Zoheb get out of my sight before I break your head!)

The woman sighed in frustration after he left, then she realized that she had a trump card in the name of Zubiya.

At night when she made the rotis on the tawa in an old sitting style kitchen, she asked her husband, "Khan ne shaadi ki kya Miraal se?"(Did Khan marry Miraal?)

The man who sat on the chaarpayi shook his head, "Nahi ki, Rukhsana mai toh abhi tak hairaan hu, us Khan ne ye mangni kaise maanli", he said with curiousity as he scratched his beard.

(No... I still can't believe that he is actually keeping this engagement)

"Jawaan khoon hai, pighal gaya hoga...", she said with a smile, as she passed him the roti. (He is young and Miraal is gorgeous, surely she must have lured him with her beauty)

"Haroon ki beti hai tameez se baat karo!"

(She is Haroon's daughter, don't say such things about her)

"Mujh par na cheekho aapka saga khoon thi iss liye bhaag gayi thi!" She shouted back as she threw the tong on the floor and stood up. Pouring herself and him a glass of water, she sat beside him.

(Don't scream at me! She has your blood that's why she ran away)

"Nahi hai woh mera khoon, Haroon ne god liya tha usse", he confessed as he sipped the glass of water. Rukhsana was shocked as she heard the news, the entire night the thought revolved in her mind.

(She doesn't... Haroon had adopted her)

~~~~~~•~~~~~~

Her eyes squinted as she felt the sunlight on her face, and a smile spread on her face as her eyes went to the window.

He had a lovely voice, it truly touched her soul. It cured her insomnia, his song was like a medicine to her pain, it brought her relief. Somehow he took away all her worries and gave her sukoon (peace).

Miraal placed her foot on the ground when something fell on the floor, it was a letter. Carefully she picked it up and bunch of petals fell down, she brought one to her nose and remembered how he had bandaged her hand when the thorn had stuck her. She felt her heart flutter, as she read her name written in his beautiful handwriting.

Miraal,

Aisa pehli baar mehsoos kar raha hu mai, kuch hafton pehle mai tumhe jaanta bhi nahi tha. Ye anghoti jo Baba ne mujhe di thi iski ahmiyat nahi samajh paaya tha kabhi, mujhe pata hai ki hum jis wajeh se miley hai, jis haalat m miley they woh ideal nahi tha. Tum majbur thi aur m tanha, magar ek hafte m hi mujhe ahsas hua ki jo sukoon m har jagah talaash karrha tha usse taqdeer mujhe khud mileyegi.

Mai tumhare ghar is liye aaya tha taakey tumhe ye bata saku ke tumhari meri zindagi m kya ahmiyat hai. M

Abraar Khan.

(I am experiencing these feelings for the first time; just a few weeks ago, I didn't even know you. I had never grasped the significance of this ring that Baba gave me. I understand that the circumstances under which we met were not ideal. You were in distress, and I was lonely, but within just a week, I have come to realize that the peace I had been searching for everywhere will be discovered through destiny itself. I came to your house to express the importance you hold in my life.)

Miraal's heart skipped a beat as she read the letter, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue. Abraar's words filled her with a mixture of joy and wonder, leaving her spellbound. The memory of their first meeting, their unexpected encounter, and the bond that had formed between them in such a short time flooded her mind.

She traced her fingers over the delicate petals that had fallen from the letter, cherishing the sweet gesture. The petals of the flower remained scattered on the floor, a symbol of the blossoming love that had taken root in her heart. With determination in her eyes, Miraal gathered the petals and placed them carefully in her diary, a cherished keepsake of their beautiful beginning.

And so, as the world outside continued its bustling pace, Miraal basked in the tender warmth of love.

~~~~~~•~~~~~~

Abraar stood in the dimly lit underground chamber, the flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the damp, moss-covered walls, adding to the ominous atmosphere. The room was hidden beneath the Saira Mahal, a once majestic and now decaying structure that held dark secrets within its walls.

He was looking at eight photos, Bakhtu, his loyal confidant, stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. "Khan, Gaffur Ahmed ne apne gunnahon ka aitraaf kar liya," Bakhtu told him, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.

(Gaffur Ahmed confessed all his crimes)

Abraar's eyes remained fixed on the photographs, his thoughts consumed by memories of his family's torment at the hands of Mir Mahmoud. The flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the images, enhancing the feeling of unease in the room.

He reached out and knocked off one of the photos, each image representing a face he had sworn to take down. The room seemed to echo with Khan's hatred of those depicted in the pictures.

Every year he was the one who kept the hatred alive, he was the one to spread the fire. He wanted people to hate Mir Mehmoud's family. He would have destroyed the Saira Mahal long ago but he kept the mahal so that people could remember the hatred. So that their hearts could be kept alive with the hatred that kept him alive, his reason to live was to murder all the members of Mir Mehmoud's clan.

"Bakhtu, ek kaam karo gao m afwa failao k Saira zinda hai," Abraar said with a determined glint in his eyes. The candlelight danced on his face, illuminating the resolve that burned within him. (... spread a rumour that Saira is alive)

"Magar kyun Khan? (Why?)" Bakhtu asked with curiosity, wondering why Abraar wanted to spread the rumor that Saira was alive.

Abraar leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the remaining photos before him. "Because, my dear Bakhtu, rumors have a way of creating chaos and sowing seeds of doubt," he replied, a sly grin playing on his lips. "And in chaos, people are more vulnerable, more likely to make mistakes, and that's when we strike."

Bakhtu furrowed his brows, trying to understand Abraar's plan. "So, you want to use the chaos to your advantage?"

"Exactly," Abraar confirmed. "Gaffur Ahmed may have confessed, but there are still others out there who would gladly take his place and continue to take advantage of the villager's vulnerability. By making them believe that Saira is alive, all his followers will come out in search of her and then we can eliminate them."

"But Saira is dead, isn't she?" Bakhtu questioned, trying to make sense of the situation.

A hint of apprehension crossed Abraar's eyes, but he quickly masked it with resolve. "Yes, she is. If she wasn't I would have murdered her on my own."

"But won't they eventually realize that Saira is not alive?" Bakhtu questioned.

Abraar's eyes glinted with mischief. "By the time they do, it will be too late. We would have dismantled their network of followers, and they will be left to wonder how they fell prey to their own paranoia."

As the plan took shape in Bakhtu's mind, he couldn't help but marvel at Abraar's cunning and strategic mind. "You truly are a master of manipulation, Khan."

Abraar chuckled. "In this world, one must be both a protector and a puppeteer. It's the only way to ensure the survival of what we hold dear."

Bakhtu nodded in agreement, grateful to be on the side of someone so skilled and calculating.

Abraar blew off the candle and picked up all the eight pictures. He had a cunning smile on his face, as he went upstairs and stared at the large photo of Mir Mahmoud.

Mir Mahmoud had broad shoulders, with five rings on his hand, a shawl across his shoulders. The large brown eyes of his were those of a devil, Abraar wished he had gotten the opportunity to murder this disgusting man.

The man in the photo was the one his father wanted him to be like. Abraar was repulsed in the beginning but now it was his purpose to live.

~~~~~~•~~~~~~

Miraal passed all her exams with flying colours, she thanked Allah for guiding her. She felt relieved, the moment she came back, she switched on the radio and laid down on the chaarpayi.

"Zubiya mera khat aaya kya?" Miraal asked Zubiya who was studying in the room.
(...has my letter arrived?)

She came out and shook her head, "Khat toh nahi aaya magar Shahid bhai ke ghar se invitation aaya h, unki behen ki shaadi hai". "Oh", Miraal replied. " Bano bata rahi thi Khan bhi aayenge", Zubiya said with a smile, "Sacchi?" Miraal asked and Zubiya nodded.
(No but we are invited to Shahid's sister's wedding)
(And Bano was telling me that Khan is invited as well)

Miraal's excitement and happiness radiated like the sun as the possibility of seeing Abraar there, filled her heart with elation.

As she entered her room, Miraal's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she rummaged through her clothes. She wanted to look her best. Her fingers ran gently over the fabrics, and when she found a beautiful blue anarkali dress, she knew it was the one. The dress hugged her figure gracefully, and its vibrant hue complemented her radiant smile.

At the wedding, Miraal's beauty was beyond compare. Her dark, expressive eyes glimmered with excitement, and her cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue. The golden ornaments adorning her wrists and neck added a touch of elegance, making her look like a princess from a fairytale.

At the venue, the air was filled with the enchanting melody of a woman singing. As the music played, Miraal's heart danced to the rhythm, and her imagination carried her away. She envisioned herself in Abraar's arms, swaying to the soulful tune. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, each step filled with a tender intimacy that words could not describe.

As the song came to an end, she felt a gentle whisper in her ear, and when she turned, it was Abraar standing there, his intense gaze fixed on her. He had trimmed his moustache from the edges making it pointed towards the end, looking devilishly handsome. "Kiske khayalon mein gum ho?" he asked in a husky voice. (Whose thoughts have kept you engaged?)

"Aapke," she replied, a smile spreading on her face, her cheeks flushed with warmth as she confidently confessed her thoughts.

His eyes widened, Miraal was bold and he loved how she never broke eye contact with him.

Later in the evening, as they found themselves engrossed in each other's company, the world around them seemed to fade away. Abraar took her hand in his, and Miraal's heart fluttered at the touch, her eyes locking with his. "Tumne mere khatt ka jawab nahi diya" he confessed, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. She realized how he had started addressing her as tum instead of aap, the intimacy in the sudden change made butterflies in her stomach go wild.

A small smile graced his lips, and she could see the affection in his eyes. "Miraal, tum apne dil ki baat dil mein hi rakhti ho, magar tumhari aankhein..." he said, his voice gentle and full of warmth.

(.., although you don't express your feelings these eyes of yours expresses everything)

She felt her heart race as his words held a deeper meaning, and she knew that he saw through the facade she presented to the world. In his presence, she felt stripped of all pretenses, and it both scared and thrilled her.

As the haldi ceremony approached, Miraal couldn't help but be amused by Abraar's possessive streak when an aunt asked her about her family.

"Beta aap kiske saath aayi hai?" She asked with a polite smile, Miraal answered, "Meri behen k saath"

(Whom did you come with?)
(I came here with my sister.)

"Oh... Aur aapke Maa baba?" She probed further, Miraal muttered quietly, "Unka inteqaal hogya"

(...and what about your parents?)
(They have passed away. ..)

The woman placed her hand on her shoulder and sympathized with her, "Tumhe toh kaafi akela mehsoos hota hoga na..."

(Don't you feel lonely?)

Miraal shook her heard quickly with a warm smile, "Nahi aisa nahi hai, meri behen haina mere saath"

(No I don't, I have my sister Zubiya...)

"Magar beta akeli nahi ho jaati hogi tum koi khayal rakhne wala toh chahiye hota haina", she sympathized.

(But you must be lonely, you might be in need of someone to take care of you)

Before Miraal could answer Abraar replied in her stead, "Aap fikar an karey, meri mangetar hai.. Mai khayal rakhta hu inka"

(Oh don't you worry, she is my fiance, I will take care of her)

The aunt, who had a proposal in mind, retreated hastily, apologizing for the misunderstanding.

Miraal's laughter echoed through the air, and Abraar couldn't help but smile despite himself. He shook his head, trying to maintain a stern facade, but her infectious laughter continued to chip away at his defenses.

"Haan haan haslo (You find this amusing, don't you?)" Abraar said, trying to sound serious.

Miraal's eyes sparkled with mischief as she replied, "Hassi ki baat thi na, Ya Allah maine kabhi nahi socha tha ki aap unko humari mangni ka batadenge (Well, you must admit it was quite a funny misunderstanding. I didn't expect you to actually declare our relationship to her)."

The moment Miraal realised what her intentions were, Abraar arrived and spoilt all her fun. She would have played along for an hour, until declaring that she was engaged in the middle of their conversation casually.

Abraar smirked as he tilted his head and replied "Well, I had to protect my territory, didn't I?", and taking her hand in his he continued, "Can't have anyone else vying for your hand in marriage."

Miraal's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, but she still persisted, "Magar phir bhi uski zaroorat nahi thi (You didn't have to do that, you know. It was unnecessary)"

"Shayad (Perhaps)," Abraar said, his voice softening. "But I couldn't bear the thought of someone else trying to take you away from me."

Miraal's heart skipped a beat at his candid confession. She found herself drawn to his honesty and the way he bared his emotions without hesitation. The bond between them felt undeniable, and in that moment, Miraal realized that she was falling for Abraar Khan.

The festivities continued around them, but Miraal and Abraar seemed to exist in their own world, oblivious to everything else. The music played, and couples danced joyously, but their eyes never strayed from each other.

As the night progressed, they found themselves sitting alone on a quiet corner of the venue. The soft glow of the moon bathed them in its gentle light, creating an ethereal ambiance around them.

"Miraal," Abraar began, his voice gentle as he held her hand in his. "I want you to know that I meant every word I said back there. I truly want you to be my wife, to be by my side, always."

Miraal felt a surge of emotions welling up within her as she looked into his sincere eyes. "Abraar, I..." she paused, her heart racing with the weight of her feelings. "I feel the same way. But..."

Abraar's thumb caressed her hand reassuringly, "There is no hurry Miraal, I am willing to wait for you as long as you want"

"You know Abraar, after my Baba I trust you the most. You are truly a kind hearted, honest and a simple man, and I love that about you"

As the words "kind-hearted, honest, and simple" left Miraal's lips, Abraar's smile faltered for a moment. If only she knew the truth about him, he thought. He had carefully cultivated an image of a good-natured and respectable man in front of her, hiding his true face beneath a facade of charm and warmth.

Internally, his mind was a battleground of conflicting emotions. He couldn't deny the feelings he had developed for Miraal; her innocence and genuine nature had touched a part of him he had long suppressed. But the dark purpose that drove him was in stark contrast to the image she had of him.

As they continued to walk, Miraal held his hand affectionately, and he forced himself to push the intrusive thoughts away, focusing on the present moment. She talked about her dreams and aspirations, sharing her deepest desires with him, oblivious to the darkness that lurked beneath his surface.

"You know, Abraar, I always wanted to make a difference in people's lives," Miraal said, her eyes filled with childlike innocence. "I want to help those in need, just like my father did. Abraar I love that despite being so rich you don't forget your people, your charity and social work is truly remarkable and it inspires me"

He nodded, masking his inner turmoil behind a nod of agreement. "That's a noble ambition, Miraal. I'm sure you'll achieve great things," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of admiration and guilt.

As they settled down on a bench, Miraal continued sharing her thoughts, unaware of the storm raging within Abraar. He couldn't help but marvel at her genuine spirit and the purity of her intentions. It was a stark contrast to the dark path he had been forced to walk.

In his mind, the thoughts echoed loudly: "How did I end up here? Is there any way out? Can I find redemption for the sins I'm about to commit?" He longed to confess his true identity to Miraal, to tell her the truth. But the weight of his father's expectations and the fear of losing her held him back.

As the evening wore on, Abraar found himself grappling with his inner demons, torn between the duty he had been raised to fulfill and the love that had unexpectedly entered his life.

"You seem lost, Abraar. Is something bothering you?" Miraal asked, concern etched across her face.

For a moment, he considered telling her everything, confessing the dark secrets that he had buried deep within. But fear held him back, and instead, he mustered a reassuring smile. "No, it's nothing. Just lost in my thoughts, but I'm fine," he replied, hoping to keep the facade intact.

As they walked back, he couldn't help but feel the burden of his actions weighing heavily on his heart. The truth seemed to suffocate him, and he wondered if he could ever find a way to break free from the cycle of revenge and darkness that had engulfed his life.

Late at night, as Abraar lay awake, he questioned his purpose and the choices that had led him to this point. He knew that continuing on this path would only lead to more pain and destruction, but breaking free would come at a cost he wasn't sure he was ready to bear.

"I must protect her at all costs, even if it means losing her," he whispered to himself, torn between love and duty, as the weight of his conflicting emotions threatened to consume him.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒