Chapter 43 is up on Stck 💕

•••

The soft call of the Fajr azan brushed against Layla’s senses like a distant echo, pulling her out of a shallow, uncomfortable sleep. Her eyes snapped open, and for a moment, she stared blankly at the hazy pre-dawn sky. As her awareness caught up with her, a sharp chill ran down her spine. Her limbs ached, stiff and sore. The cold marble beneath her had left a biting imprint on her body. She had fallen asleep on the balcony.

Her dupatta had slipped from her head, pooling around her shoulders like a fallen shroud. Slowly, wincing as her body protested, she sat up and gathered it back around her. Quietly, she stepped inside the room again. The other girls were still asleep, tucked in warm beds, breathing gently under soft blankets.

Moving soundlessly, Layla pulled open her small suitcase and took out a fresh change of clothes and her prayer mat. She laid the mat over her bed before slipping into the washroom. Her limbs ached with every movement, her body heavy with exhaustion but she hoped a shower might lighten the burden, even a little.

By the time she stepped out, clean and in fresh clothes, Ishmal and Eifa were awake. The two older girls were now unsuccessfully trying to wake the younger ones.

"Eira, tumhe dadi bula rahi hain." Eifa said sternly when her little sister refused to stir.

(Eira, dadi’s calling you,)

That worked. Eira bolted upright. “Ji, dadi?” she mumbled in alarm, only to realize the room was still girl-filled and grandparent-free. With a groan, she snatched a cushion and flung it at her sister.

(Yes, dadi?)

“Very funny,” she muttered, flopping back down.

“Eira, uth jao.” Eifa started pulling her blanket off.

(Eira, get up.)

Meanwhile, Ishmal was nudging Momo awake. “Momo, namaz time.” she whispered gently.

Momo, half-asleep, mumbled something completely unrelated. “I don’t eat blueberries… they remind me of Berry…” she said with a dreamy frown. Even in sleep, Momo's mouth never stopped moving.

Eifa and Ishmal exchanged a look, exasperated before turning their attention back.

Eifa’s gaze settled on Layla, who had eyes down, hands folded tightly, eyes swollen, rimmed with red.

“Tum theek se toh soyi thi na?” Eifa looked at her gently and asked softly, even though Layla's reddened eyes clearly showed how poorly she had slept.

(Did you sleep okay?)

Layla nodded silently. Ishmal, too, didn’t feel the need to mention she had been out on the balcony.

“Hum namaz parhle. Inn dono ko baad mein utha denge.” Ishmal said, heading to the washroom to make wudu. Eifa, sighing, looked down at her youngest sister still curled up under the covers and picked up her alarm clock.

(We should pray first. Let them sleep a few minutes more?)

Layla had just finished her prayer when a sudden loud buzz from the alarm startled her. Her hand flew to her chest as her heart leapt in panic. Lily, who had been sound asleep next to Eira, shrieked and jumped off the bed, bolting out like a spooked kitten.

“Eifa!” Eira sat up angrily and glared at her sister, who was in the middle of her prayer. With a huff, Eira switched off the alarm and rolled her eyes. “Seriously…”

She climbed out of bed, putting her hair furiously while grumbling under her breath. As she passed Momo, she yanked away her plushie and her blanket.

“What the... Pookie?” Momo blinked awake, dazed, still half in a dream.

By the time the girls had taken turns washing up and praying, the morning chaos had fully taken over.

“Tumhe adat ho jani chahiye ab khudse uthne ki, bachhi nahi ho tum.” Eifa scolded Eira while applying serum on her face.

(You really should start waking up on your own by now, you are not a baby.)

“Main apne time pe uth jaungi, tum bas mujhe uthana chorh do.” Eira snapped back, pulling at a tangle with a wince.

(I would, you just stop waking me up.)

“Momo phir so gayi.” Ishmal pointed out calmly. She was already dressed, neatly putting away her comforter. Momo was sleeping on Huda’s bed instead of her own now.

(Momo’s back asleep again.)

Amidst the chattering, bickering, and half-hearted complaints, Layla sat on the edge of her bed, hands still folded, gaze lowered. She wasn’t part of the rhythm, the banter, the push and pull of this sisterhood. She was there, in the same room, but felt miles away.

Their laughter, their quarrels, their sleepy grumbles, everything was so natural, so familiar between them. She felt like she was watching a scene from a show playing on a TV across the room. A show she hadn’t been cast in. A world she couldn’t enter.

•••

“Yeh teeno ab Nomi ko kya patti padha rahe hain?” Rukhsar asked, narrowing her eyes as she peeked through the window. Outside, Ehan, Kian, and Shahnan stood in a tight circle, Nomi planted in front of them like a very nervous student about to be conned.

(What exactly are these three teaching Nomi now?)

“Abhi abhi namaz parhke aye hain aur khurafat chalu.” she muttered suspiciously.

(They just got back from prayer and already up to something,)

“Rubab, inn teeno ko bulao.” she said, already settling herself at the dining table already preparing for interrogation.

(Rubab, call them inside.)

“Bhabhi, baat hi kar rahe hain woh log.” Rubab said, also glancing out the window. To be honest, something about the scene did look a little off. But she chose to trust her grandkids.

(Bhabhi, they are just talking.)

“Pichli baar jab aise baat ki thi teeno ne toh Nomi hume chatt se ulta latka mila tha.” Rukhsar reminded with a scowl. Rubab quickly turned back to the window.

(The last time the three of them were just talking, we found Nomi hanging upside down from the roof.)

They were still out there. Still talking. And still looking shady.

It was rare for the trio to form this kind of unified front. And when they did, something or someone was guaranteed to suffer.

“Tab bachhe the sab, ab nahi karenge aisa kuch.” Rubab reasoned, though her own instincts were throwing red flags. Still, she didn’t want to encourage Rukhsar’s suspicions too much. The woman wouldn’t hesitate to scold her grandsons in front of the entire haveli.

(They were kids back then, they won't do anything stupid now.)

Meanwhile, on the lawn, Ehan leaned toward Nomi like he was about to share a secret that could change the course of history.

“Tumhe meri baat pe yakeen nahi haina?” Ehan asked. “Kian bhi bharose ke kabil nahi. Par, Shahnan, iski baat pe bhi bharosa nahi?” He said, placing a heavy hand on Shahnan’s shoulder with mock solemnity.

(You don’t trust me right?)

(You don’t trust Kian either. But you don’t even trust Shahnan?)

Nomi looked at Shahnan, uncertain.

“Main bharose ke kabil kyu nahi?” Kian whispered, visibly offended.

(Why am I not trustworthy?)

“Shhh,” Ehan hissed, without even glancing at him.

“Mujhe bharosa teeno pe hai,” Nomi said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than them, “but...”

(I do trust all three of you,)

“Agar but sochna hai toh rehne do.” Shahnan cut in coldly. “Aap bhi rehne dijiye, Ehan bhai. Bas aaj ke baad ana nahi, Nomi, tum humare paas advice ke liye.” He started to walk away like a betrayed mentor.

(If there’s a but then forget it.)

(You should leave it too, Ehan bhai. And, Nomi, don’t come to us for advice again.)

That alarmed Nomi.

“Nahi, nahi! Aisa nahi hai.” he said, throwing up his hands in panic.

(No, no! That’s not what I meant.)

He didn’t see the mischievous smiles forming on all three faces. That slow, devilish grins that only appear when someone’s plan is working a little too well.

•••

"Main bas itna keh rahi hoon iska humare room mein rehna zaroori hai kya?" Eira said as they descended the staircase. Her tone wasn’t rude, but the hesitation in her voice showed she was unsure how to word it properly.

“Humare room mein kya problem hai?” Eifa asked calmly, but her hazel eyes carried a clear warning, don’t say anything out of line.

“Pata nahi, par woh ladki ajeeb hai.” Eira fumbled, struggling to explain herself. She wasn’t trying to be unkind, but she knew how it might sound. “Look, we have our own routine, our comfort zone. She doesn’t fit into it. Now we’ll have to think twice before doing anything. Even Momo didn’t come out of the room yesterday because she had keep Layla company.”

Eifa let her speak without interruption. Once Eira finished, she responded with quiet firmness.

“Papa asked her to stay with us because she’s already going through a lot. Jitna tumhare liye mushkil hai, ussey kai zyada uske liye hai.” They had reached the last step now. Eifa paused, and Eira stopped with her to listen.

“She doesn’t talk much, she’s probably not used to being around strangers. If she stayed in the guest room, she’d isolate herself completely. But in our room, maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually, she might come around.”

Eifa turned to face her sister. “Eira, hum dono soch bhi nahi sakte woh iss waqt kis cheez se guzar rahi hai. Isliye tum uske sath achhe se rehna. Koi nahi keh raha tum apna routine kharab karo, zabardasti nahi din bhar uske sath baitho, par thora bohot baat cheet karlo.”

(Eira, we can’t even imagine what she’s been through. That’s why I want you to be kind. No one’s asking you to ruin your routine or force yourself to be with her all day. Just try talking to her a little.)

She placed a gentle hand on Eira’s shoulder. Eira nodded.

Eira wasn't someone who let people into her space so easily. So naturally, Layla’s presence felt off. But now, hearing Eifa’s words, she realized she hadn’t even tried to understand what the girl might be carrying inside.

“Tum dono yaha kyu kharhi ho?” Ehan, who had been coming down the stairs, reached them and threw arms around both their shoulders. The girls jumped slightly in surprise.

(What are you two standing around?)

“Kuch nahi,” Eifa replied, brushing it off.

(Nothing,)

All three siblings started walking toward the dining room when Ehan leaned closer to Eifa and asked in a low voice, “Waise, woh kaha hai?” Eira has already walked ahead of them.

(By the way, where’s she?)

“Kon?”

(Who?)

“Batman,” he replied mischievously.

She frowned. “What?”

“Oho, Majnu ki Layla.” Ehan teased with a grin.

(Majnu's Layla.)

“Bohot buri baat hai, Ehan. Tumhe kisi ke parde ka mazak nahi banana chahiye.” Eifa scolded, narrowing her eyes at him.

(That’s a terrible thing to say, Ehan. You shouldn’t make fun of someone’s parda like that.)

“Maine kab mazak banaya? Batman kitna cool hai tumhe pata hai?” Ehan replied, dramatically serious now. “Strong, silent, mysterious. Main toh tareef kar raha tha.”

(I wasn’t making fun. Do you know how cool Batman is?)

(I was complimenting her.)

In response, Eifa smacked him on the head, finally silencing him.

•••

“Aap sab meri wajah se pareshaan na ho.” Layla said softly, not meeting Ishmal's eyes. She didn’t want to burden anyone, but seeing Momo yesterday and Ishmal today taking time out to sit with her made her feel guilty. These people had their own lives, their own routines, surely they must’ve put things on hold because of her.

(Don’t worry about me.)

“Koi pareshaan nahi hota, balki achha hai, tumhare sath mujhe achhi company mil jayegi.” Ishmal replied casually.

(No one’s worrying. In fact, I’m happy, I’ve got good company.)

“Me too,” Momo chimed in quickly, squeezing herself between the two with a wide grin.

“Tumhe company ki kabse kami ho gayi?” Ishmal teased, raising an eyebrow. “Tum toh ped podho se bhi baat kar leti ho.”

(Since when do you lack company?)

(You can talk to trees and bushes.)

“Podho who?” Momo frowned. The word was clearly unfamiliar to her. But before Ishmal could explain, Momo’s phone buzzed. She checked it and stood up in a hurry.

“Al, did you feed Kiwi?” she called out while heading outside the room.

“Yeh angrez hai?” Layla asked after a moment of silence, her voice hesitant. She had noticed Momo’s different accent and broken Hindi but hadn’t found the right moment to ask until now.

(Is she foreign?)

“Hmm, yeh aur iska bhai Shahnan. America mein rehte hain apne parents ke sath. Holiday ke liye yaha aye hain bas.” Ishmal smiled lightly. “Waise mujhe pura yakeen hai ab tak Momo ne tumhe ghar ke ek ek member ke barey mein bata diya hoga.”

(Hmm. She and her brother Shahnan. They live in America with their parents. Just here for the holidays.)

(Though I’m sure by now Momo’s already told you everything about everyone in this haveli.)

Layla gave a small nod, lips tugging slightly at the corners, then fell silent again. There wasn’t much to say.

“Tum bahar kyu nahi chalti?” Ishmal suggested gently.

(Why don’t you come outside for a bit?)

“Main...” Layla hesitated. The words I observe parda had begun to feel awkward on her tongue. She assumed people here must be more open-minded. This was a rich family, after all. Would they understand?

(I...)

“Parda karti ho I know, Momo ne bataya tha.” Ishmal said, almost reading her mind. “Aur koi tumhare parde pe kuch nahi keh raha. Par sabke sath baith toh sakti ho.”

(I know you observe parda, Momo told me.)

(And no one’s going to say anything about it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t sit with people.)

Layla’s fingers fiddled with the edge of her dupatta as Ishmal shifted a little closer, voice softer now.

“Layla, sabka gham aur ussey deal karne ka tareeqa alag hota hai, shayad tumhe meri baatein theek na lage. Maine bhi apne daddy ko khoya hai.” she said, a bittersweet smile appearing on her lips. “Mere daddy mujhe duniya mein sabse zyada azeez the. Unke baad toh jaise zindagi hi ruk gayi thi meri. Hafto tak kamre se nahi nikli, tarah tarah ke khayal atey. Raato ko uthke baith jati thi, aur dil chahta tha kahi durr bhaag jau, yaha yeh takleef mehsoos na ho.”

(Layla, everyone has their own grief, and their own way of dealing with it, maybe you won't understand what I am saying. I lost my daddy too,)

(He was the most important person in my life. After he passed away, it felt like everything just paused. I didn’t leave my room for weeks. Thoughts would come and go in. Some nights I’d wake up gasping, feeling like I just wanted to run away, to somewhere far, where it didn’t hurt so much.)

Layla listened carefully, her eyes locked on Ishmal’s. Every word hit home because she felt the same. That same urge to disappear, to escape the weight of grief.

“Lekin kahi bhi jane se takleef kam nahi hogi.” Ishmal continued gently. “Jitna akele rahogi utna hi tarah tarah ke khayal ayenge. Isliye sabke sath baitho, yaha sab bohot achhe hain.”

(But running doesn’t help,)

(And the more you stay alone, the louder your thoughts become. That’s why, try being around people. Everyone here is really kind.)

On the last sentence, Ishmal’s voice faltered slightly. A sharp pang flashed across her chest, Kian’s face flashed in her mind, "Thori zyada badi family hai, chaotic bhi hai, par apko achha lagega yaha." His words rang in her mind, but she quickly pushed the ache aside, masking it with a steady smile.

"Bohot badi family hai, chaotic bhi, but achha lagta hai yaha pe." Ishmal added with a smile.

(The family is very big and chaotic, but it's really nice here.)

•••

Zainab’s house was just two streets away. One random evening, Nomi had wandered in that direction for no real reason. Until he spotted Zainab standing on her balcony. And Nomi, who considered love and romance to be a waste of time, promptly tripped and fell headfirst into the cliché of love at first sight.

After that, he began casually strolling down Zainab’s street more often than necessary, just to catch a glimpse of her. Sometimes she was out on the balcony, sometimes not but Nomi persisted like a dedicated postman without a letter.

One day, Ehan caught him suspiciously loitering near Zainab’s gate and confronted him. With nowhere to run, Nomi had to admit the real reason behind his scenic routes. Ehan, being the responsible elder brother figure and part-time troublemaker, took it upon himself to handle the situation.

He gathered intel like a true spy.

Her name was Zainab. Done with college and two years older than Nomi, but that doesn’t matter. She goes for a morning walk.

That was all Nomi needed. A golden opportunity. Unfortunately, he was a rookie when it came to love. So naturally, Ehan, Kian, and Shahnan teamed up to write him a love letter. They even sprayed it with perfume. The scent was so overpowering that the moment Nomi held the letter, he sneezed non-stop for five minutes straight.

Armed with the most dramatic letter and his brothers' blessings, Nomi got ready for his romantic mission.

Since he had never seen the inside of a gym, let alone owned gym clothes, he borrowed Shahnan’s gym tracksuit. On Nomi’s much leaner frame, the clothes looked three or four sizes too big. The sleeves covered his palms like mittens, the track pants drooped so low they had to fight gravity, and his entire look screamed: lost child wearing dad’s clothes. People in the park kept turning to look at him. Some were amused. Some were concerned.

Zainab, meanwhile, had finished her walk and was now sitting on a bench, one leg crossed over the other, gently swinging her foot to the beat of whatever music was playing in her headphones. In one hand she held her juice bottle, completely unaware of the walking disaster approaching her.

Nomi stopped right in front of her. The first thing she noticed was the cloud of perfume that nearly singed her eyebrows.

She looked up slowly, removed one earbud, and asked politely, “Yes?”

Nomi, who had been coached extensively by his brothers, instantly forgot everything. All the confidence, all the carefully memorized lines were gone.

“I… uh… umm… yeh…” he stammered like a broken radio.

(This...)

Zainab raised a brow. “What’s the matter?”

Nomi, too shy to speak, thrust the letter toward her like it was a traffic ticket and quickly turned his face away, cheeks burning.

Zainab, puzzled, took the letter and started reading. The further she got, the more her expression tightened, eyebrows rising, lips pressing into a line.

Then, calmly, she stood up and faced him.

“Yeh kya hai?” She asked, holding up the letter like a piece of evidence.

(What is this?)

“L... lo... love letter,” Nomi croaked, swallowing hard.

Zainab inhaled deeply, and then whistled.

From somewhere nearby, a large German Shepherd came bounding toward them, barking like it was trained for war. The moment Nomi laid eyes on the dog, all his romantic instincts evaporated.

He didn’t look left or right, and just ran.

The dog took off after him.

Now, dogs are fast. But a terrified Nomi, running for his life, was faster. His oversized tracksuit flapped wildly behind him like a superhero cape. The sleeves kept sliding over his hands, the pants kept slipping down, but Nomi was fueled by pure panic.

He finally spotted the familiar gates of Khan Haveli and made a break for it. He flew inside, slammed the gate shut, and collapsed against it, panting for dear life.

On the other side, the dog barked furiously.

Still catching his breath, Nomi took off his shoe and flung it over the gate in a final act of defiance. The dog promptly caught it mid-air and ran off victoriously, tail high.

By the time Nomi stumbled into Azlan’s house, every inch of his body ached. He couldn’t even decide which part hurt more to groan about first. His misery announced itself before he even entered properly. His dramatic sighs and pained whimpers echoing through the hall.

Layla, hearing the approaching male voice, instinctively adjusted her dupatta lower over her head and face. She’d only come out of her room because Ishmal had asked her to. Until now, only the girls were present, and the sudden masculine energy made her tense up. But no one noticed her, everyone rushed toward Nomi, who had collapsed onto the floor, panting and refusing to move another inch.

“Nomi, kya hua? Yeh kaise dikh rahe ho tum?” Ishmal blinked, unsure whether to laugh at his comically oversized tracksuit and sweat-drenched hair or sympathize with the visible agony on his face.

(Nomi, what happened? Why do you look like this?)

“Jog pe gaye the toh achhe khase the, yeh aisi tooti halat kaise hui?” Eifa added, equally confused. As far as everyone knew, Nomi had gone for a healthy morning jog, his first, possibly ever.

(You looked perfectly fine when you left for the jog, how did you end up like this?)

“Tumhara ek shoes kaha hai?” Momo pointed out what no one else had.

(Where’s one of your shoes?)

"Pani," Eira handed him a water bottle. Nomi snatched it like a man stranded in a desert and chugged it down in one breath.

(Water,)

“Nomi, theek ho?” Eifa asked gently, sitting beside him.

(Nomi, are you okay?)

That one moment of compassion broke him. Nomi burst into dramatic sobs.

“Main aaj ke baad Ehan bhai, Kian bhai, aur Shahnan bhai se baat nahi karunga.” he wailed between hiccups. As he poured out his tragic tale, the girls listened attentively, sympathetic, but barely able to suppress their laughter.

(From today onwards, I’m never talking to Ehan bhai, Kian bhai, or Shahnan bhai again.)

Momo cracked first. A snort escaped her lips, then full-blown laughter. The other three followed, giggling uncontrollably. Nomi’s misery, it seemed, was unintentionally hilarious.

And then came the culprits, the three so-called mentors whose brilliant plan had backfired so spectacularly. Ehan, Shahnan, and Kian walked in like royalty returning from a victorious hunt.

“Aur, hero, kya boli heroine?” Ehan asked with enthusiasm, settling beside Nomi and patting his shoulder.

(So, hero, what did the heroine say?)

Layla, watching the new arrivals, felt uneasy. She turned her face away and clutched her dupatta tighter, wishing she could disappear from the room.

Kian and Shahnan joined Nomi on the floor.

“Nomi, ek shoe kaha gaya?” Shahnan, like his sister, first noticed the missing pair, and asked. “Dekho, agar usne souvenir ke tour pe ek shoe manga hai toh apna deke aao. Woh mera favourite pair tha.”

(Nomi, where is one shoe?)

(Look, if she asked for it as a souvenir, go give her your shoes. That was my favorite pair.)

“Shoes dikh raha hai, meri halat nahi dikh rahi apko?” Nomi said in despair.

(You can see the shoe, but not my condition?)

“Shoes hi toh nahi dikh raha.” Shahnan replied. He was the only one who’d seen the full debacle from the balcony, including the dramatic shoe-throwing at the dog.

(I can’t see the shoe, actually.)

“Ishmal bhabhi, inn teen villain jaise bhaiyo se kahiye ab mujhse baat na kare, kabhi nahi.” Nomi declared, placing one hand over his heart like a tragic hero.

(Ishmal bhabhi, please tell these three villain-type brothers not to talk to me. Ever.)

“Sunn liya? Ab koi Nomi se baat na karna.” Ishmal said, giving Ehan a knowing look.

(Heard that? No one talk to Nomi now.)

“Hua kya, yeh toh batao.” Ehan asked. Nomi’s physical condition made it clear the plan had flopped but the juicy details were still missing.

(At least tell us what happened.)

“Hum bataye?” Momo offered innocently. All heads turned toward her. Sharfa was a storytelling expert, every facial expression she added made the retelling ten times more entertaining.

(Should I tell?)

Laughter echoed through the lounge, deep, hearty, manly laughter as Momo theatrically reenacted every moment, from the perfume overdose to the dog chase.

Nomi made a weepy face again. “Has lijiye. Bade papa aur chachu se shikayat karunga aap sabki.”

(Go ahead and laugh. I’m going to complain about all of you to Bade Papa and Chachu.)

“Aur unhe yeh bhi batana ki park mein tum jamat parhane gaye the.” Shahnan said, causing another round of laughter.

(And make sure you tell them you went to the park to lead prayer.)

“Meri galti hai, aap teeno pe bharosa nahi karna chahiye tha. Aise bhai ho toh dushman ki kya zaroorat...” Nomi groaned, attempting to stand. But a fresh wave of pain rolled through his body. “Allah,” he whimpered, hobbling away toward his room.

(It’s my fault that I trusted you three. Who needs enemies with brothers like you…)

As he left, more laughter followed everyone except Ishmal and Eifa, who looked vaguely guilty.

“Bohot buri baat hai. Yeh tumhara idea tha na, Ehan?” Eifa narrowed her eyes at Ehan.

(That’s very bad. This was your idea, wasn’t it, Ehan?)

Ehan raised both hands. “Letter Shahnan ne likha tha.”

(Shahnan wrote the letter.)

Eifa’s glare shifted. She was not amused.

“Usme maine aisa kuch nahi likha tha jo main apko kehta hoon.” Shahnan said slyly, resting his chin on his hand. Eifa’s cheeks flushed crimson. She stood abruptly and walked off, flustered.

(I didn’t write anything in it that I say to you.)

She headed after Nomi to make sure he was actually okay.

“Lekin aap log ko aisa nahi karna chahiye tha bechare Nomi ke sath.” Ishmal said firmly.

(But still, you guys shouldn’t have done this to poor Nomi.)

“Iss age mein parhai chorhke aashique arahi hai, uske sath aisa hi hona chahiye.” Kian replied casually, eyes resting a little too long on Ishmal. Ishmal fell silent then she also walked out of the room.

(At this age, ditching studies for love, this is exactly what he deserves.)

“Tum dono ki biwiyan izzat nahi karti.” Ehan muttered.

(Your wives don’t respect you.)

“Tumhari aney do, tab dekhenge.” Kian shot back.

(Wait till yours arrives, then we’ll see.)

“Meri toh...” Ehan was halfway through his sentence when his eyes landed on Layla.

(Well, mine will…)

She was sitting silently on the sofa, cloaked in a large beige dupatta that seemed to hide not just her face, but her whole existence. One hand clutched the edge tightly to prevent it from slipping, the other formed a small fist on her lap. She hadn't moved an inch.

Kian and Shahnan followed Ehan’s gaze and stood up immediately.

“Let’s go outside,” Shahnan suggested.

Kian said nothing, just followed.

Ehan also turned to leave, but of course, his impulsive itch returned, and a line from a song slipped into his head. He mumbled under his breath, loud enough for Layla to hear, "Sharma ke yeh kyu sab pardanashi, aanchal ko sanwara karte hain..."

Layla heard the song clearly. This time, she actually turned to look, to catch a glimpse of him but Ehan was already gone.

All she could do was stare after him in disbelief.

Why was this man so obsessed with her veil?

None of the other girls had said a word about it, but then again. Of course, they hadn’t. They were girls. It hit her with sudden clarity: He’s a man.

And men, by nature, were terrible.

Whether a woman was behind a veil or walking without one, it didn’t matter, men still found a way to poke and prod. Harassment, for them, was as casual as breathing. She had run away from one Zeeshan.

Now it looked like this place came with a second one.

•••

“Yeh kya tha?” Kian asked, looking at Ehan with raised eyebrows. Kian and Shahnan had clearly heard the song too.

(What was that?)

“Kis barey mein keh rahe ho?” Ehan looked genuinely confused.

(What are you talking about?)

“Ehan bhai,” Shahnan said, his tone serious, “Agar koi parda kar raha hai toh apko unke parde pe aise comments nahi pass karna chahiye.”

(If someone observes parda, you shouldn't make comments like that.)

That’s when realization finally struck Ehan. “Ohhh…” he exhaled slowly.

“Apni biwi ki tarah mat bolo.” Ehan muttered, trying to brush it off.

(Don’t talk like your wife.)

“Meri biwi sahi kehti hain.”

(My wife is right.)

Ehan rolled his eyes and turned to walk away, dismissing the whole thing.

“Ehan...” Kian and Shahnan followed behind. “This is serious,” Kian said. “Tum toh aise nahi the. Kabse aisi cheap harkat karne lage ki ladki ko dekhke gana gao.”

(You weren’t like this before. Since when did you start doing such cheap things, singing a song just because you saw a girl.)

“Main usko dekhke gana thori gata hoon.” Ehan snapped, clearly offended now. “You two act like I’ve lost my mind. Jabse Momo ne parda kaha hai mujhe parde wale sarey song yaad ajate hain meri kya galti.”

(I’m not singing for her.)

(You all act like I’ve lost my mind. Momo just said the word parda and ever since then, all these ‘parda’ songs are stuck in my head. How is that my fault?)

“Warna mujhe kya shauq uske liye gana hoon. Jaan na pehchaan.”

(It’s not like I’m dying to sing for her. I don’t even know her.)

“But the way you’re acting, it seems like you are singing for her.” Shahnan pointed out honestly. “Pata nahi kya soche woh.” Ehan blinked, his smugness fading. That hadn’t occurred to him.

(Who knows what she might be thinking.)

Ehan went silent. That, honestly, hadn’t occurred to him. Embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away, clearly annoyed with himself.

“Chachu sahi daatte hain apko.” Shahnan mumbled under his breath before walking off.

(Chachu is right to scold you.)

“Yeh zyada nahi bolne laga?” Ehan muttered to Kian.

(He’s started talking a bit too much, hasn’t he?)

“Lekin sahi bol raha hai.” Kian said calmly before following Shahnan.

(He’s not wrong though.)

Ehan stood there alone for a moment, grumbling under his breath, “Kitne boring cousins hain mere, gana hi nahi jante.”

(Such boring cousins I have, they don't know songs.)

•••

Layla often wondered who those people, the ones who lived without fear or pain, who didn’t carry sorrow in their eyes, who never felt the ache of loneliness, who were never deprived of a family’s love. Watching the people in this haveli made her realize. They were those people

Everyone in this haveli seemed happy, laughing, teasing, existing in a bubble of affection and ease. Sitting among them had felt nice, warm but it had also stung. Like a window had opened into a life she could never have. A quiet ache of inferiority clung to her, especially when she noticed Shyra constantly checking on Eira and Eifa, sending trays of snacks through maids every now and then, just to be sure her daughters were content.

Ayla, too, was calling out to Ishmal for every little thing, despite Ishmal doing nothing more than lounging beside her. Yet, she kept asking for her opinion like she was more of a daughter than a daughter-in-law.

Sharfa’s phone had rung twice already in an hour, once her father, then her mother. Her brother had popped in to check on her too.

All things Layla had never known.

She quietly stood up and left. Her mind wandered to her mother, someone she’d never seen, not even in a picture. What did she look like? What kind of woman had she been? Years ago, she had come to take Layla. But would she still accept her now?

Lost in thought, Layla didn’t realize when she’d taken the wrong turn. She stopped. This wasn’t the hallway Ishmal had brought her through earlier. She glanced behind her, bright chandeliers shimmered above, casting light across a corridor she didn’t recognize.

She was lost.

And before she could decide what to do, her phone rang. An unknown number. She rarely answered those. But something made her lift it.

"Hello?"

“Kaisi ho, Layla?” The voice on the other end chilled her blood.

(How are you, Layla?)

“Main toh molvi sahab ko lene gaya tha humare nikkah ke liye, lekin tum ussey pehle hi ghar chorhke chali gayi. Sahiba chachi bhi kuch nahi bata rahi kaha ho.” Zeeshan said.

(I went to bring the molvi for our nikkah, but you left before I returned. Sahiba chachi refuses to tell me where you are.)

“Jaha bhi ho, ghar wapas aao. Tumhara thappar bhoolke main phir bhi tumse shadi karne ke liye taiyyar hoon.”

(Wherever you are, come home. I’ve forgiven the slap. I’m still ready to marry you.)

“Mera picha chorh do tum.” Layla said, her voice cold, though her body trembled. She ended the call before he could say another word.

(Leave me alone.)

She turned, unaware that her dupatta had gotten caught on the corner of the table. Before she could take another step, she saw a stranger standing in front of her.

“Kon tha phone pe?” She recognized the voice instantly. Ehan Khan. The same man who had been mocking her veil since yesterday.

(Who was on the phone?)

“Ka... koi nahi...” she mumbled, so quietly even she could barely hear herself, and quickly turned to leave.

(N...no one...)

Ehan had heard her words. From her voice, her fear, he could tell someone was bothering her. And suddenly, Shahnan and Kian’s words from earlier echoed back to him, words he had brushed off as overreaction. What might seem like a joke to one person isn’t always a joke to the other.

“Layla, sune...” he stepped forward, reaching out instinctively.

(Layla, listen...)

Layla’s dupatta, which had been caught on the table, slipped off her head as she moved quickly. Startled and a little flustered, she turned around, thinking Ehan had grabbed it.

Ehan froze, like ice had settled over him as he looked at her.

Her loose, dark curls framed a face he could only describe as poetry made flesh. Her wide, flushed eyes, deep brown with flecks of red from unshed tears locked onto his, a mix of pain and fury brimming within them.

“Aap jaise mardo ki nazar mein aurat ka koi wajood nahi hota na?” She burst out, her voice shaking. “Agar main apke ghar mein sahara ke liye ayi hoon toh meri touheen karna apne farz samajh liya hai? Sharm ani chahiye apko, khud ke ghar behen hai lekin dusro ki betiyo ko koi izzat nahi?”

(You men never see women as people, do you?)

(Because I sought shelter in your home, you think mocking my modesty is your right? You should be ashamed. You have sisters in this house, do other girls deserve less respect than them?)

Every word struck hard, her heartbreak sharper than her anger.

But Ehan heard none of it.

He could only see her.

A face that silenced him. A presence that turned the world quiet.

She didn’t bother retrieving the dupatta that had fallen. Instead, she lifted the end of her suit's dupatta still looped around her neck and covered her head and left

As she walked past him, her hand brushed a delicate vase on the edge of the table. It toppled, fell, and shattered on the marble floor with a loud noise. Only then did Ehan breathe again.

Only then did he realize he’d just witnessed something far beyond beauty.

Ehan took a deep breath, steadying the rhythm of his racing heart. As his gaze dropped to the floor, it landed on something soft and familiar, her beige dupatta, lying forgotten like a whisper of her presence.

He bent down slowly, picked it up with a gentleness that surprised even him, and let the fabric run through his fingers.

“Layla,” he murmured under his breath, her name curling on his tongue like a secret. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

•••

Kya keh raha tha Ehan? Majnu ki Layla.... only if he knew Layla ka Majnu toh woh khud hai🤭

Khair, how's the chapter? Do vote and comment. Kafi time se intense chapters arahe the, agey chalke phirse intense chapter ayenge toh filhal yeh halka fulka chapter😁

-Ufaq