روئیں گئے ہم زار زار غیر ہمیں ستائے کیوں؟
— مرزا غالبؔ

٭
Chapter 14 : Aap bhi?

Tears fled her eyes as she sat in her bedroom. A married woman. Dampened cheeks and spirits painted in the familiar shade of a typical Eastern bride, she painted the perfect image. From the deep red of her dress to the heavy jewellery that sunk the flesh of her earlobes further south. The thick anklet and the nude heels that in their tallness, were sure to have her tripping for most of the night. Fluster lined eyes, lips dyed a shade of berry — it was a textbook picture. Except for the pale henna stains.

Staring at her fingers, the length of her disjointed bones, covered by translucent skin and swirls of a vermilion henna. Her knuckles kissed by the many rings she wore, a testament of her father's wealth. The cold metals dipped against her skin and the coarse silk napkin breezed past her tears. Resting her forehead against the cold window pane, gripping the metal hooks that she undid. Hearing it's soft crackling before it broke free.

Golnar relished the freedom of the cold air. The thick scent of the gardenia's whizzed in and it's screaming warmth buzzed against her skin. Sleighing her fingers through the still frozen pieces of hail into her palm — a reminder of the rain from the evening, she smiled at it mournfully. Rubbing it between her fingers.

The only good, Golnar wondered, was that she would no longer be afraid of the ghouls of the bridge. She would be free of it's terror. Free of the alarming nightmares that kept her up at night.

Sniffing, brushing her heavy skirts as she walked towards her over night back, Golnar kneeled. Pulling the zipper of the black bag open, digging through the silk night suit and train of body lotions, she pulled the leather bound journal out. Running her fingers through the tattered name, the words on the yellowed pages, blurred ink and water droplets that had long ago stubbed their way into it's expanse. Pressing a kiss into it's crooked leather cover, she heaved a sigh.

So it has happened without you — she sent out a whimpering cry to her mother's absent picture. The woman who was the reason behind her torture, the pain. The very cause of her having pulled away from her British roots. Golnar had buried the life she had spent on the English soil, all in a bid to tear herself away from her. From Armina Naazim. The selfish house wife who had torn them into pieces.

"Golnar beta yeh khirki kyun khol rakhi hai? Itna thanda ho gaya hai kamra." Stepping into the room, Arbaz pulled his shawl closer, sliding into place beside her.
[Golnar my child why have you opened the window? The bedroom has gotten so cold.]

"Ab-ba." Golnar peered at him, wiping her tears from the tip of her finger. "Waqai mein thand hai?"
[Fath-er is it really cold?]

"Ji jaan, aur yeh samaan kyun khola huwa hai? Khariayt?"
[Yes my life, and why have you opened your bags? Is everything okay?]

"Ji."
[Yes.]

Clasping a hand on to the wooden chair, resting the entirety of her weight on to the recliner, she stepped or rather stumbled forward. Grasping the yellowed out picture between her hands, her clammy palms kissed it, divulging it from the place on the manilla paper it had stuck to for years. Squeezing her doe eyes. Unfeeling. The heaving ache weighed down on to her chest, it's coarse venom seeping into the streams of her blood as she took final steps.

Into the fire.

Golnar's eyes softened as she stared into the rapidly growing flames. The embers licked the crevices of the bricks that lined it. It's thick door, made of hand woven iron — a talent that had not been lost upon the blacksmiths of Naazimgarh — had gone a stark charcoal from the soot. Touching it in the air, brushing the warm air with just a flick of her wrist. Golnar thrust the picture into the starving fire. Staring at it.

"Yeh kia tha Golnar?" He inquired, his tone questioning.
[What was this Golnar?]

Broken — yet no longer searching for the help it so yearned for.

"Maazi. Jiski ab mujhe zaroorat nahi hai. Bohat saal," her voice cracked as she spoke, "bohat saal ho gaye hai. Ab aur intezar nahi karun gi. Nayi zindagi mein puranay naamon ki koi gunjaish nahi."
[Past. For which I have no use of. So many years, so many years have passed. Now I will not wait more. In a new life old names have no place.]

Freed from the burdens.

"Meri bahadur shehzadi."
[My brave princess.]

Creeping into her smile, the sworn vines of joy.

"Bahadur nahi. Aadat ho gayi hai."
[I am not brave. Just used to it.]

A broken laughter bubbled and filled in the cracks of her resplendent past, her words echoing into his ears even as the groom's party slipped out of his home. Their cars turning the corner. Golnar going with them. Leaving him alone, in the enormous haveli ; him and his thoughts. All by themselves.

"Aankh sai dur na ho, dil sai utar jaye ga;
Waqt ka kia hai, guzarta hai, guzar jaye ga."
[Do not move away from the eyes, you will loose your place in the heart;
What of time, it passes, will pass.]

٭

It was lavish, cluttered, opulent and full of architecture not native to their village. The crooks of the jharokhas, the mixed resting lounges, thin brick jalis, open yards where the cattle were still lounging.
All of it belonged to this place.
Servants slinging to the high built walls of the roof. Serving trays laden with fruit and kehvas rounding up to the guards who stood in duty. The current lady of the home standing with a pot of oil to throw into the flower beds for prosperity.
Traditions she was seeing for the first time.
Belonged to this place.

All of it belonged to this place. All of them belonged to this home and this land. A land that had been bartered for with blood, sweat and tears. Everything belong.

Everything except for her.

Golnar's eyes widened as coins of copper and silver rained down on to her and her husband's frame. A relationship solely hers to cultivate. His steps were well spaced and firm, hers more so crooked and not so confident as she walked a few steps behind him. Catching a coin into the well of her palm. Smiling at the small child who had aimed it for her, she turned her attention to her sister-in-law. Nodding along as she explained all the duties. Fuzziness clouding her head from the sudden information.

"Golnar ap kuch khain gi?" Dania, the wide eyed, curly haired woman inquired, leading her up the marble stair case.
[Golnar would you like to eat something?]

"Ku-kuch nahi." She swallowed.
[No-nothing.]

Hoisting up her heavy train, the gauze grazed her skin, and her heels almost slipped over the floor. Whimpering with each step she offered Dania a broken smile before catching her breath. Rubbing a hand against her breastbone, scratching the back of her neck she frowned entering the bedroom. The expensive furniture against the dilapidated state of the bedroom was misplaced. It was like a world apart. Outside it had been lush, extravagant and every inch the status this place deserved. As the owner of the village. Yet the bedroom, even with the curtain of roses and marigolds, the feather mattress and plush red bedding, seemed out of place.

Dusty.
Destroyed.

"It's a bit rough but that's 'cause bhai does not like to change it. Got a bit of an emotional attachment to it."

Dania's hand flickered in the desolate room, starlight shone on to her skin as she did so. The endearment crooked on her tongue as she spoke, settling Golnar onto Darab's bed.

Golnar nodded, watching her leave. Staring at the back — moving away from her, she let her gaze run through. Staring at the chipped paint and washed out carpet. No matter how much a man hated change, someone of his stature, how could he allow himself to not be given the luxury his family was known for owning.

Before her eyes could droop to the sleep that lulled over her, kissing her shoulder blades that were simultaneously screaming, as they were enjoying the cold air, Darab stepped in. The clock had been ticking, she knew not of how much time had passed. Only that the darkest hour had long since left the swells of this realm. His frame — now rid of the white achkan, only a thin satin shirt hung over his shoulders. Loose. Kissing his knees as he stepped nearer.

Darab's bold, coffee eyes were the shade of a dark coffee bean. Not be mistaken for any subpar shade. His hands — tan and calloused dropped on to his thighs. Staring at her frame with a hunger. A light flickered inside of his pupils the longer he stared at her. Gifting her with a small smile before he leaned in, his thumb twirling the soft strands of hair that had slipped past the well made head piece. Her breaths gaining sharpness, the swell of her breast brushing her kneecap from the hunched over position she had.

"Man'na paina ae, husn di kami nai raki rab ne." Darab complimented, the pad of his thumb digging into where he had once seen a dimple pop up.
[I will have to acknowledge that God has not kept you from beauty.]

"Shu-kriya." Golnar whispered.
[Thank-you.]

Blushing and blinking in his direction, Golnar knew not what was expected of her. She kept her eyes on him, his tanned skin as he took off the kameez he wore and let it kiss the petal covered ground. Grinning as his shoes came of next. Glee filled her for a moment as he leaned on to his fore arms, looking at her with a heated prowess. Keeping his trousers on for the sake of decency, she hoped.

Free of jewels there was but a single chain that hung from his neck, intriguing her. He had not even worn their engagement ring yet, refused to part with that. She had seen it on the many occasions Darab had visited their home.

"So ja." He spoke after a moment of silence, creeping off of the bed, into the direction of the old rocking chair.
[Sleep.]

"A-ap kahan ja rahay hain?" Golnar questioned as she gathered her wits.
[W-where are you going?]

"Jahanam," he chuckled, the moon shining on to his back, casting a illuminated shadow on to their bed, "aethay hi aan. Fikr na kar."
[Hell, I am here. Dont worry.]

"Magar ap kursi par kyun soyen ge?"
[But why will you sleep on the chair?]

"Dushmana naal sona pasand nai menu. Tu aethay eik maksad di waja to aen. Us to ziada menu teray husn ich koi dilchaspi nai." He chuckled.
[I don't like sleeping with the enemy. You are here for one reason only. Other than that reason I have no interest in your beauty.]