Originally, I was supposed to write a one-shot and a bonus for my previous story.

Forgive me. Because I have been obsessed with this story.

If you follow me on Instagram, you would know that I did the aesthetic for this chapter a few days ago.

This story starts after 35.8 chapter of tales of love- part one. The main lead (female) will appear few times so you might want to revisit the story.

P.S: Deepika Padukone is 🥵

______________

YEARS AGO

Musa looks at the sky turning black and he didn't like it. He likes the light because he can play all day in his favourite garden.

At night, his mother takes him in saying the devil is out to get him.

He told his mother that he can fight the devil. His mother just didn't trust his words.

Maybe because he is nine?

He sighs looking at the table in the lounge which holds some magazines that his elder sister asked for. Curiously he went towards the table, bending on his knees as he scanned the magazine which had different people face stamped on it.

Out of all the magazine, one stands out to him. He picks the magazine looking at a girl of his age stamped on the front page.

He frowns, looking at her for a long time.

"Kia soch raha hai mera bacha?" His mother warm voice snapped him out of his trance (what is my child thinking?)

His mother sits beside him as he spoke, "Ammi Jaan, yeh dekhain in ko". (Mom, look at her)

His mother looks at the magazine, "Piyari bachi hai. Is ko kyun dekhoon?" (She is pretty. Why should I see her?)

"Yeh khush nahi lag rahi". He said sulking (she doesn't look happy)

"Tumhae kaise pata? Khushi kia hai, Musa?"  (How do you know? What is happiness, Musa?)

His little brain ponders for a moment on his mother's question.

He turned to his mother in dismay, "Khushi kia hai, Ammi Jaan?" (What is happening, Mom?)

His mother places her hands on his cheeks, "Khushi dil ka sukoon hoti hai". (Happiness is when you have peace in your heart)

"Toh in k pass dil ka sukoon nahi?" He said looking at the girl on the magazine  (then she doesn't have peace in her heart?)

"Shayeed. Per tum dua kar sakty ho k us ki takleef kum ho jaye. Dua mai bohat takat hai". (Maybe. You can pray for her pain to lessen. Prayer have a lot of power)

He nodded obediently, "I will pray for her".

For Rumi.

~~**~~

PRESENT

Rumi exits her car when she heard the loud cheering from her admirer. She looked around the bright light that was focused on her and the cameras that were capturing her every action precisely.

She learned at a young age that she should wear a smile on her face and be friendly with everyone to be loved. She did what she was taught almost her whole life.

She nodded at everyone as she passed through the red carpet, feeling the euphoria of being loved by everyone.

Or that is what she believes?

She saw her favourite model Mahak who was looking around clearly upset. She didn't get the time to speak to her about what was troubling her as her team asked her to sit on the seat assigned to her.

She watches the woman performing on the stage while everyone eyes were glued to their movements. She was asked to perform a couple of time. But, she always wondered why will she entertain someone by showing her body movements? Isn't that a form of oppression?

She feels weird that some days, people scream that no one should watch them. On other days, they beg them to watch them. And, for some model and actors who she saw used to be upset when the people didn't see them.

What exactly are people supposed to do?

She heard the anchor asking Mahak the question to which she stood up and called them out for. An act of courage she didn't have in her. She watches as Mahak wore a beautiful shawl around her, running out of the place, leaving everyone shocked.

"I think she needs medical attention". The anchor jokes off

She heard the outrage of the people around her on Mahak's statement. As they tweet things about her and heavily criticised her existence.

"She thinks just because she believes in something, it is right. If she was that pure, why did she ever stepped into our place? Why take such a big project and take all the money?"

"Exactly! Now that she has all the money she needed. She is acting like some saint".

"She should go and get a checkup. World is moving forward, advancing and we are still stuck in stone age because of people like her".

"But is the world really progressing?". She asked unconsciously after hearing her colleague speak ill of Mahak

She remembers these were the same people who benefited from Mahak. They always praised her and stayed around her like a leech.

They glare at her statement and she shuts her thoughts as she continued to hear more of ill talking. The back-biting was something she was familiar with. At one point, she used to engage in gossip until she realised how badly they can affect someone.

She had seen the results.

She sighs.

She excuses herself from the after-party. She had spent almost a whole day outside. From parlour, dressing, award show and after-party. She changed two dresses and they were loved by everyone. But, she felt something missing.

As she stands in front of the mirror, in the silence of her room and away from the cheers of the world. She felt lost, alone and empty. She felt that someone was on her shoulder pressuring her to continue what she had been doing. But, the pressure was bringing her to her knees. She heard the call of prayer and she looks at the time realising that it was morning already and she didn't even pray a single prayer.

Not that it was the first time. She had been skipping for a long time.

She removes her off-shoulder red dress placing it on the bed. The shine of it now looks dull. The way it appeases her audience was important even when she didn't like it.

She didn't have a choice. That is what she believes in.

She picks her phone, dialling Mahak number as it continues to rings a couple of times before she answered.

"Why did you do it?"

"Why do you do this?"

"What do you mean, Mahak? You had everything".

"That's the point. I had everything that wouldn't last".

"I don't understand. Why did you leave?"

"I left because I was done, Rumi. I left because I realised life was beyond what I believed in. I left because I wanted peace".

"But why?"

"Because I realised that they liked me for who I became for them, not for who I truly am. Because I became what was a facade for everyone to love and not what I was meant to be". Mahak pauses, "Try defying their words, actions or rules. You will see, Rumi. Try opening your heart to look beyond the fog that covers them".

"I don't understand you".

She shuts the call, throwing her phone away as the sleep engulfs her.

**~~**

In a month, she saw how people ridicule Mahak. They went as far as to her character just to defame her. No reaction came from Mahak until the end.

Once they found another gossip, they finally let Mahak be.

She looks at the man working on her dress to place it perfectly. The dress was embroidered and backless.

She heard the door opening as her manager walks in.

"I don't know what these young girls think of themselves?" Her manager shouted, "They haven't been in for a day and they have demands".

She turns to look at the young girl who came in two hours ago. She was new in this field, looked scared and when she was asked to do something that went against her values, she rejected.

Now, there is chaos to her rejection.

She holds her dupatta in her hand, walking outside to the location where everyone was. She finds the male model who was going to be in this photoshoot with her.

She nodded at him, placing her dupatta over her.

"What are you doing?" The director shouted which scared her, "Put that thing away".

She frowns, "Thing?"

"This". The director said holding the dupatta and touching the part of her body which sends a disgusting shiver down her body, "We don't use this in our photoshoot".

Try defying their words, actions or rules.

"This is our culture" She argued

"What culture? This is the stone age thing. No one wears it anymore. This is not the trend".

"We can make a trend".

"Why are you arguing on this?" Her manager chipped in when everyone was silently looking at them, "We have always done it. The pictures come out nice".

"I don't understand why can't I do it?"

"Because a modern world likes it that way. If you want to wear it, go to the stone age. Don't waste our time". The director shouted, walking away

Her manager snatched the dupatta from her hands. She stood there, lifeless as she looked around to no one speaking for her. If she had insisted on not wearing a dupatta because it was her right, would they have been this silent?

They would have been the opposite. Then why can't they support this?

"Get close". The photography said as she tries to create distance between the male model and her, "Put your head on her back".

Her heart stopped.

"What? No". She rejected

"Why is she behaving like an amateur? Does she have no value of our time?" The director said frustrated

She tries to fight when the model places his head on her bareback and her manager shoot her a glare to which she shut down. She felt his hand all over her body during the photoshoot as the photographer asked. And she couldn't be more disgusted by his touches.

"Place the dupatta around her feet". The director shouted as someone place it near her feet

A thing that was made a crown of the head, laying on the ground. The irony. A small piece of clothing is oppression on the head and liberation of the ground.

She continued the day with more and more activities which continued to drain her. Her mind remains blank and her heart clenches every minute.

"You need to meet the director, Rum". Her manager said with that cringe nickname

"He is a man who plays with women". She said, closing her eyes

"So what? It's not the first time. That's how we get work here".

She clenches her jaw, "That is not an appropriate way".

"Then you should have found a job with was to your preference. Why did you come in this field knowing that your body is owned by the public and the people in the industry?"

She didn't reply.

"I will meet him. Tomorrow".

"You have to dress right".

~~**~~

"I don't want to wear this". She said frustrated looking at her off shoulder short blue dress

"You have to wear it. Be nice and smile, no matter what". Her manager said

She enters the restaurant, after giving her name to the hostess, she was directed to a private cabin. She could feel the hair at the back of her neck rising at the thought of what could go wrong.

But, it was a famous restaurant so there shouldn't be anything happening.

She enters the cabin to find Qayyum who was a known man in this industry in his fifties. His face had that sickening smile and she felt the need to espace.

You need to stand on your feet. This is your chance. Be a nice child of mine and do it. I worked hard on you.

She swallowed as she sits in front of him.

"It's nice to meet you". Qayyum said forwarding his hand

She nodded meekly, shaking his hand, as she tries to take her hand back, he didn't let go. He rubs his thumb over her hand moaning.

"You hand are so soft. I have always wondered how they would feel". Qayyum said as his eyes covered with a faded look, "I wonder how the rest will feel".

"We are not doing any such thing". She snapped

"Mind your tongue and attitude with me. Or I will ruin you in seconds".

She didn't speak after that feeling helpless. She had to stay here. She cannot break her promise.

You will always do what I say, right?

She felt suffocated. She felt alone. She felt darkness.

She feels a hand over her shoulder and her head snapped towards Kayyum hand.

"We should spend a little more time". He said bending down to press his lips to her shoulder

She pushes him away.

"Don't touch me. This is my body".

"You are the one who walked in here knowing everything. And you are the one who is wearing this type of clothes. What did you expect?"

She fights his hand off, "It's not about clothes. It's about your filthy mind".

He kisses her shoulder taking the strip down and she screams for help. He slapped her face and she starts to cry for help.

Ya Allah! Please.

She fights hard. She fights to the death. Even if she had to die tonight, she won't give up without a fight.

She takes the fork from the table stabbing him. He started to scream in pain and she takes the chance, running out of the cabin.

As she moves out she heard his men running after her. She takes the back exit to hide from them which didn't last for long. She starts to run the street and none came forward to stop the men who were following her or to help her in general.

She continued to weep as she hides behind a tree, looking around to find a taxi. She saw a white colour car and without any thoughts, she enters the car.

"Please, Please, just drive. I will give you all the money you need". She pleaded

The man listens to her plea as he starts to drive and she continues to ask him to drive far away from the place. Not sure how long she weeps, begged the man to continue the drive and stayed in panic.

Not until the man stopped the car. He didn't turn around and she looked around to find beautiful scenery which she would have praised if it wasn't for more panic to set in her.

"Where did you bring me?" She asked scared

The man holds his jacket to her and she immediately covers herself.

The man turned around and her heart stopped as she takes in his features.

This can't be a taxi driver?

"Where did you drive this taxi? How much do I owe you?"

"Do this car looks like a taxi to you?" His deep voice restored through the silence of the car

She looked around the luxurious car and her eyes widen.

She looks at him, "Who are you?"

"Mujhe Musa kahty hain". (They call me Musa)

~~**~~

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