جے اِک تیرا پیار میںوں میلیا
میں دُنیا تو ہور کی لینا؟

٭
Chapter 18 : Eik qadam mein, do qadam ap

Golnar hissed at the pain as he touched her warm skin with the iodine. It had been inspected by Husyan — though he had maintained a distance. Did not require stitches ; a thought that gave her a lot of peace. Squeezing her eyes shut as he applied the ointment over her skin, Golnar could not help but wince in pain. His fingers were abnormally large against her slender palms and as he dabbed the cotton against her gash, she could not help but yelp. Then bite her tongue out of habit.

"Araam sai!" Golnar shrieked as he dabbed a bit to hard in one particular area.
[Careful!]

It was a flaming red and though blood had dried around the open wound, she could feel the throbbing pulses underneath. Like a dull annoyance—similar to the cramps she got when on her period—Golnar's palm felt frozen. His warm fingers held her palm open, keeping her bones in a shackle as she tried to twist it out of his powerful hold. Twisting her face to not meet the sight of her open flesh, she pinched her thighs. Her skin coming beneath her nail bed as she used force.

"Dard te nai ho rai?" He spoke, breaking the wandering silence inside the bedroom.
[Is it hurting?]

Peaking at him from beneath her lashes, the deep kohl that had smeared her pale cheeks at the moment made her look like a raccoon. His eyes focused on hers, falling lower to her exposed collar bone before they rose once more. Tiny tremors that resembled the crackling effect of her favourite chocolate, brushed her palms and then traveled up to her elbow as she waited patiently. Searching for an answer.

Shrugging her shoulders Golnar's lips slipped into a smile and the dusting of an endearing blush on top of her cheeks were involuntary too as he blew on to her wound. Settling the cream into place before he wrapped the gauze around it. His fingers still holding the edge of her palms as he tied it into a neat bow, slipping to touch her warm pulse that throbbed at an uncanny pace. Matching the upheaval of her breath as she tried to gain momentum. The shell of his lips cruising past her warm skin set her stomach ablaze and she squirmed. Though his palm was quick to settle her in place as she rubbed his thumb into the skin just above the bandage.

"Tuaddi baliyan te churiyan kithay ne?" He enquired.
[Where are your ear rings and bangles?]

"W-woh bari bibi nai pehannay sai mana kia hai. Kaam karna hota hai na tou—"
[T-that bari bibi forbid be from wearing them. I have to work so—]

Golnar words seemed to come to an end as her eyes fell on to his that had been staring at her far too long. Taking in every curve of her face with a devout's patience and faith. His lips — perhaps even unknown to him, curled into a ghost of a grin, his thumbs rubbing the skin that had started to turn a red from his touch.

"Kadi shikayat vi karni ain? Ya sirf sab da hukam mandi ae?" He murmured.
[Do you ever complain? Or do you just agree to everyone's order?]

"Woh—" she drawled on.
[That—]

Her lips screamed and the flesh moved with sharpness. Inside her cheeks the cells that quivered with ferociousness, gathered force. Forging pain and strength at the same time as she stared at the man who had up until a few moments ago done nothing but ignore her existence. Slipping her hand out of his grip she settled it into her lap, wiping a last tear that had settled into the skin of her chin. Licking the dry skin, her tongue darting around her mouth, she searched for words.

Words that would be enough to satiate her hunger and pain.

Darab hummed, fixing her shawl as it slipped even lower to expose the curve of her soft bosom. The warm fabric settled over her shoulder and he stood before her nimble frame. His heartbeat defeated even him. As a man that had practiced strength and power the entirety of his life ; even he was shocked at the way her elfin figure could breathe such upheaval into his life. 

"Kaho." Darab spoke warmly.
[Speak.]

Golnar swallowed as his voice ordered. Rubbing a finger over the bridge  of her nose she pulled her legs beneath herself. Taking a short mouthful of breath, feeling her lungs expand as she racked through her mind to find the words that would provide him with answers.

"Me-mera dil karta hai apnay liye larnay ko par—"
[M-my heart wants to fight for itself but—]

"Par ki?"
[But what?]

"Par phir mujhe yaad ajata hai. Meri amma abu sai, dadi jaan sai har waqt larti thi. Unki pasandeeda zaban angrezi thi kyun keh woh unkay ameer honay ki akaasi thi. Maghrabi malboosat. Sharab, mard aur ghussa. Meri ammi ki fitrat thi," choking, Golnar wiped her tears, defeating his hands that had risen to perform the same task before she continued, "jab amma abu ko chor kar gayi tou mein nai vada kar lia tha sab woh cheezein karun gi jo unhon nai kabhi na ki. Isi liye chahtay huway bhi apnay liye nahi lar pati."
[But then I remember. My mom, with my father and grandmother, fought a lot. Her favourite language was English as it was a representative of her financial status. Western attire, alcohol, men and anger. It was all my mother's nature.]
[when mom left dad I promised myself to never do anything that she used to do. That's why despite even wanting to, I am unable to fight for myself.]

"Eik gal kavan?"
[Can I say something?]

Golnar nodded, her breath shortened at the expectations of what was to come.

"Tu apni maa nai ae. Golnar tu udhay tou bohat behtar ae."
[You are not your mother. Golnar you are far better than her.]

"Phir mein kuch kahun Darab?"
[Then can I say something]

Darab nodded, his hands running through his hair as he stared, expectantly.

"Jaisay bhi huwa, nikkah tou huwa. Phir bhi ap mujhe apni biwi nai mantay."
[No matter how it happened, we got married. Yet still you do not think of me as your wife.]

"Tenu lagda ae ke tu changi biwi ae?" He retorted, raising a brow.
[Do you think you are a good wife?]

"Chal fir aj meray rang ich rang ja. Shaami tenu apni duniya vaikhawan ga. Fir dekhan gae. Tu meri biwi bananney nu tiyaar ain ke nai!"
[Fine then today turn yourself into a part of my life. In the evening I will show you my world. Then let's see. Will you be ready to be my wife or not!]

٭

Heart fluttering and eyes gleaming, with dreams of what would be her future after this night was over, with him allowing her entrance into his own world, Golnar had turned her side of the wardrobe upside down. The silks and satins mixed in with the cottons and lawns she had stored away. Merging the whites, blacks and all shades under the spectrum of a soft rainbow. Every inch kissing the globe of her world which in that moment consisted of her and their shared bedroom.

Caressing the many velcro hangers and dripping her fingers just low enough to graze the well done necklines of them all, Golnar had settled on a deep charcoal shade. It matched most of her husband's wardrobe and just like he had the day before, was the shade he wore. Her fingertips had been painted a shade of dull nude to match the stitches of the metallic threads. Flowers like the ones that bloomed deep within her heart, from the throbbing ends of her wounds, and like an encompassing vine thread in and out of the flesh.

Healing.
Heaving.

Golnar pulled the kameez on and watched the shirt fit her. It's pleats curved around her upper and mid-back. Pilling her soft hair into a ponytail, the natural waves of her hair brushing the region between her shoulder blades, Golnar tugged the shawl around her head tight. The black velvet covered bangles with thick silver ones in the front and back made sounds of soft jingles with every move she took. Her chandbaali's twirling inside of her ear.

Placing the wand of her cool kohl between her lashes, rubbing some mascara over the length of them, Golnar rubbed the sweet scent of her ittar behind her ear and the insides of her wrist. The soles of her khussas sliding on to the floor as she stepped out of the bedroom.

Striking six and a half — it was just the time Darab had given her to reach his car. Yelping in glee, her fingernails glided over the bannister and she all but jumped down the corridor with excitement. Laughter bubbled inside of her throat, tightening the muscles of her oesophagus as she breathed in the fresh air heavily. Glad that bari bibi and Dania had gone out for a dinner. Leaving her to her own devices.

Skittering through the front yard with a delicate hand placed upon her chest, Golnar slipped out of the heavy doors pulled apart already. The thick fog that had descended on to the plains of Naazimgarh swam through the heavy barks and cradled what little light existed in the meandering walkways. The white and yellow flood lights too washed out with it's sheer intensity as she walked towards Darab's cruiser. Only it's head lamps in their melting capabilities were the sign of it's presence in the deranged weather of the village. Despite it being the middle of February, the winter had yet to shun itself to make room for the weather of spring.

Passing Darab a heartwarming smile she thanked the driver as he pulled open the door to the back seat for her. The weight of her body barely causing a dent in the leather seats. Tapping her feet along to the rhythm of the song playing as they rolled into the main roads of upper Naazimgarh, she kept her grip on to the door tight. Whilst staring out of the window with stars in her eyes.

The centre of the village was busy even as the sun had set. Vendors still screamed and customers still bargained. Their shrill voices reminded her of her own city — Islamabad, where the quietness post Maghrib was almost haunting. Yet also endearing. Picking at the fruit and chopping the meats, some crowds lingered in tiny restaurants and ate straight off of the grill. A look at their cheery faces and one could imagine the kind of conversation that kept them warm. Even in the dread of an unwelcoming winter.

Golnar waited with bated breath for the car to stop, the frown in her brow widened by the moment as they passed through the many shops and tiny schools. Even crossing the dilapidated houses of the not so wealthy Naazimgarh's residents. Suddenly the fog thickened and even the stray calling of the lone beggar had stopped reaching her ear.

It was dark. Inky — in it's intense depth as the car moved forward and Darab toyed with the buttons of the stereo. The driver driving without so much as a loud breath. Swallowing her fears — she decided to trust her husband. No matter the dread that fought her ; the alarms blaring inside her head as the car came to a halt in front of a brightly lit up place.

The sight was odd. Amongst the fields and many cattle houses was this one building that was lit up like a wedding home. Men walked in with enthusiasm, cheering at each other and Darab got off with calmness. Not questioning what she was. The lights and broken doors with dirty windows that had not been washed in months.

With a shaky breath she got off, following behind the towering frame if her husband. His broad back shielding her from the gazes that leered at her covered frame. Making her feel naked even underneath all that cover. It was as if spiders crawled up her neck as she tried to keep her eyes focused ahead.

"Da-rab yeh kia jagaye hai?" She whispered.
[Da-rab what place is this?]

"O jaga jithay teray to dur javan aana aan." He lied through his teeth, holding the curtain up for her to walk through.
[The place where I come to get away from you.]

Before Golnar could offer him a reply he pulled her along. Grabbing a foggy glass from the make shift counter — it's solely alcohol aroma tightened around her neck, forcing her cough into the thick fog. Wrapping herself around his arm she followed him wordlessly. The gazes only gaining intensity as they walked in deeper. Arriving at an open air stage before which many a deep red cushions had been spread out. A thin beige carpet to keep the shoes from sinking into the wet soil beneath.

Music from the live played instruments warmed up the atmosphere and the men began to cheer as barely dressed women rushed up to the stage. Their toned bellies put on display, the lavish skirts rolling between their legs as they danced to words that were crude. A sight that Darab marvelled at with an illustrious grin. Like the many men lost over the thrums of their hips, he threw crips red notes on to their figures. Whistling. Singing along to every word.

In his drunken manner, he slipped over every word, staring at Golnar from the corner of his eye. Watching distaste and then disgust settle on to her features as she began to make sense of where he had brought her. He chuckled at the idea of crushing her dreams of a new start. The naïveté of his wife was perhaps an unforgivable flavour upon his tongue.

"Ap mujhe eik randi khanay mein le kar aye hai?" Golnar spoke with disbelief, tears clouding her eyes.
[You have brought me to a prostitute house?]

"Han. Par hun vekh," he chuckled.

Golnar followed his finger, transfixed at her place as he stalked up to a curvaceous woman and wrapped an arm around her waist. Agony and nausea burned her throat, the winter's chill was nothing before the ice she felt shatter on to her head as she watched him take the woman into a dimly lit bedroom. Understanding that there was another woman fulfilling the rights of a wife, Golnar allowed for the tears to fall as she ran out of the place.

Ignoring the cat calls.
Ignoring the whistles and eyes that ran over her body. She stopped only as she stepped on to the road that was lit up from the lights of the prostitute home. Dialling the number of her father's trusted man with shaky fingers, tears and hiccups gripping her.

"A-agha ji—meri bas ho gayi hai!"
[A-agha ji—I have had enough!]

⚜️⚜️⚜️
I TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY
MWAHAHAHAHAHAH