تصور میں چلے آتے،تمہارا کیابگڑ جاتا
تیرا پردہ بنا رہتا، مجھے دیدار ہو جاتا۔

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The days of the week were passed slowly. Amra was frightened of the doomsday ahead. His dark gaze followed her everywhere it seemed, while she was pouring tea, while she was talking to Dadi or while she was sleeping. She'd feel the warmth of his gaze and the nerves in her body would start trembling.

Her mind couldn't comprehend that Isa loved her. She couldn't even imagine her, she had never felt it so how could he say that? Doesn't a woman recognise a gaze of love or was she too engrossed in Musa to notice? But it disturbed her to think that he thought of her like that when she was married to Musa and was practically his sister. And then she could never imagine in million years that Isa would behave like that with her. The warning scared her, what will she do when the time comes?

Saturday night marked the end of the week and also, the end of her crying for Musa. She would miss him no doubt, but she had taught herself to move forward. Isa was her friend once, he'd understand her.

She was dressed in a baby pink gown, her voluminous hair an ebony black, her eyes scared as she sat on the bed when he entered the room.

Wearing grey work suit and briefcase which he set aside when he entered, his eyes stuck on her figure on the bed. A war was fought between those two pair of eyes, in which the tired ones were victorious as the other surrendered, leaving the battlefield.

His staring continued, one minute, then two minutes.

"Itni jaldi haar maan gayi,Mara?
(You gave up so easily, Mara?)

He came closer to her, sitting on the next to her, he held her hand.
"Bus? Itna hi gussa tha?"
( This was your anger?)

Her eyes watered, turning into a pink brighter than the baby pink of her gown as she raised them to look at him.
"Aur kya karti mey."
(What else could I do)

Her voice trembled, giving away at the end and he bent down, putting her cold her hand on his chest,

" I am sorry for what I said that day. But I do want you to accept me, zarabasti nahi, dil sey. (not by force but with your heart.). You can take all the time that you need.)

Shayad meri kismat mey hi mukkamal mohabbat hasil karna nahi tha Mara, tum mjhe sey kabhi mukammal mohabbat nahi karsakti, jaanta hun. (Maybe it was my fate that I would never get complete love, you can never love me completely, Mara, I know that.)"

He bent down, placing his burning lips on her forehead before standing up.

It was true wasn't it? Even if she started loving him, it would never be whole. A part of her heart would always be Musa's and that hurt her.

                   ////////

Amra felt like she was a glacier, slowly melting into liquid as the warmth increases. She had been noticing things she didn't want to notice, nor did she want these things to effect her but they were. She noticed when she didn't have lunch or dinner, some pizza or take out would magically appear in the fridge. Or when she was sure she had slept without a cover, a warm blanket would envelope her in the middle of the night.
Sometimes on the dining table, he would fill her plate the second time silently, and she was forced to eat it. When she would lay down to sleep, he would immediately put his laptop and files away and turn the light off, even if he was in the middle of his work or on a phone call.

Then one day she was talking to one of the women from the village who had come to the havelli to get the monthly offerings from the Afandi's. The women was thanking her profusely for the numerous gifts she had sent to all the women in the village, some sewing machines too so they could earn more. Amra was shocked, she wasn't even aware of it. Then her eyes drifted to a smiling Isa who was bent in front of an old man, taking his blessings.

In some time, Ramzan was here and they spent there days and nights praying, mostly in solitude. Isa remembered how Ramadan had always been so joyful for them but this Ramzan, Musa's absence was eating them from the inside. There was an air of melancholy, everyone was busy in their prayers but still they smiled, they talked, they ate together.

Amra was melting, she was melting slowly. Shyly, she had started thinking of herself, and sometimes calling herself 'Mara'.
It scared her as she still remembered Musa, still loved him but his love was ingrained into his soul, it was eternal. But this new feeling, a warmth which attracted her towards itself was comforting.

She could understand his outburst at the start, she was emotional too, but now he was patient and calm. There were questions in her mind about his statement of loving her, but they would be answered slowly, she wouldn't confront him.

It was a night among numerous other nights, but this night the crescent blue moon shined on the tall haveli with all its light, the dew kissed the little flower buds, two smoky floating clouds held their hands while drifting across the moon, It was the night when Amra had surrendered.

Amra was standing in the balcony,  was dressed in a white knee length frock, the net of the dupatta
  Isa was standing in the balcony, look at the mew month's moon, with in a soft black shalwar kameez, having just changed from his work clothes when Amra entered the room with a cup of chai in a tray and placed it on the coffee table when Isa turned to look at her. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand to remove some kinks, he slowly walked inside the room.

Two minutes of silence stretched between them, Isa silently taking sips from his when Amra cleared her throat a little. Isa looked at her through the golden frame of glasses, putting the cup of tea away.
"Jee?"
Amra felt slightly nervous under his attentive gaze and slightly embarrassed due to her situation. When she spoke, her voice came out lightly, like a drift of wind in the air.
" I am sorry."

With raised eyebrows, Isa propped his face on his hand supported by his knee, the palm of his hand half covering his mouth. The other hand enveloped hers slightly, the warm skin trying to love the cold one.
"Why?"

Amra's face turned slightly red for a reason that she was unable to explain.
"For everything. Aap mjhe maaf kardein. (Please forgive me)."

His gaze was very attentive, those honey eyes never even blinking, but his head was tilted towards her and she could see the prominent movement of his Adam's apple even with her eyes lowered.

" Kardia maaf. Aur kuch?"

Amra raised her eyes to meet his when she felt the amusement in his tone which was proved by his eyes later.

"I- I am serious."

He pulled her hand to make her move a little closer to him.

"I am very serious, too."

Amra shook her head, pulling her hand to stand up,
"I will talk to you later when you are not hiding your smile behind you hand."

She was asking for forgiveness and hinting to the start of their new life and he was smiling behind his hand like a moron.

She stood up and he quickly grabbed her hand to stop her from going away, abruptly standing up too. With this angle, they were standing so close that Amra could see the honey in his eyes, the reflection of the golden light of lamp and... her own reflection.

Amra's pink palms turned a little more pink and all the blood in her body coloured her face when he lowered his face a little to look her in the eyes, long fingers tucking a curl behind her hair.

"What else did you want to say, Mara?"

Amra was hypnotised, she could only part her lips to speak but then all words left her mind. Her eyes immediately lowered which were shamelessly staring into his a second ago, haya surrounding her in a warm blanket.

Isa's finger brushed her cheekbone and her eyes immediately went to him who was looking at her in question. Eyes asked eyes and her's lowered in submission when his lips brushed hers. She felt she was breaking, then falling into an endless abyss and then, she was in his arms. Lips told each other tales that were untold before, the eyes looking at stars behind closed curtains.

His hand cupped her cheek, the warmth seeping into her already blushing face as his lips left her's, slowly like they were pained to do so.

"Yey churiyan kiyun pehni hain?"
(Why are you wearing these glass bangles?)

His hand touched her arm which was filled with a dozen red churiyan, the red a contrast against the cream of her skin.

Amra's eye brows furrowed at the strange question in such an intimate moment.

"Kiyun? Achi nahi hain? Chaand raat hai iliye pehni hain."
( Why? Aren't they pretty? Its Chand raat, that's why I wore them.)

Isa bit his lip from a corner to stop his smirk but it still peeked out, his eyes as mischievous as the sliver of the moon in the sky which was playing hide and seek with the clouds,
"Achi hain. Lekin subah pehn lena, abhi toot jayein gi."
( Hmm they are good but wear them in the morning, they will break right now.)

All it took was two seconds for her to understand his mischievous wrapped with innocence and she tried to run away, but the iron of his arms enveloped her, lips silently drinking in all her innocent excuses.

That night the new moon hid behind a wispy cloud in shyness, the stars whispered among themselves secretly and when the sun decided to come out, it hid behind the mountains for a while, watching the two bodies intermingled, their souls intwined.

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Chandraat: the night when the moon is sighted for the next month Islamic month, deciding if the next day will be Eid.