Dedicated to @its_dark_soul_ . Haven't seen her for a long time. Dedicating Baheer's POV to you.

Enjoy the second update for this week!

Basheer's POV:

"I will just come, don't go anywhere else." I instruct her, as I rush out of the shrine, onto the familiar street. The scrawny man at the flower shop just two shops after the Dargah seems busy showing a flower basket to a woman. From this far, I can't hear what they are saying but there's a horde of customers surrounding his shop. It was empty just a moment ago, while we were coming in.

I need to retrieve information, but I can't go barreling there right now. A breath leaves my body as I take the other route laid down with bricks, lined with shops on either side.

"Come here janab,we have fresh flowers at a very low price."

" No come here, we have the best chaddars for you."

" Why don't you try out the sweets -"

I move past the various vendors, making my way steadily through the narrow lane only to waste my time before I get to that shop. Maybe I should have just come out later. It was utterly stupid of me to come out so soon. But, I can't go back now, only to come out again.

A rather empty shop catches my eye. Rather peculiar to be empty in a crowded street as this. An old man sits there, his face scrunched up in worry as he sees every man passing by his shop without a further glance. Before I can move mine away his eyes catch mine and the hope in them is unmistakable.

Maybe I should just pass by like the others? No one is stopping anyway, why should I?

But the hope in his brown irises reminds me of a certain woman who had looked up at me that way for that cellar although masked my contempt later. My legs move towards the shop as if propelled by a pull and soon I am standing near his shop staring at the wooden crafts. No wonder its empty, people here just buy the necessities, crafts aren't one of them.

" Aiye janab, look at these beautiful-"

His words fade as my eyes catch a particular bracelet, woven with sea-green colored wooden beads, interspersed with multi colored stones. Two to three strings tied together to make it look thicker and wholesome.

" How much is that?" I ask the man pointing to it.

"It's a beautiful choice Sahab. It's a very small price to pay for your woman, just 500 PKR." The old man gushes, his eyes lightning up at the price.

My woman. My chest constricts at the notion. If only. . .

" I will take it." I say as I bring out my purse.

I hand over a 1000 PKR note to the man. But he looks troubled upom seeing the note, " Sahab, I don't often have customers so -"

I cut him off in between as I say, " It's a small price to pay for her. Keep it."

The man's face brightens at the prospect but he declines, " No Sahab, how can I?"

" Fine, I will come another day to collect the change. Is that okay?" I ask him, knowing full well I wont come to take the change.

I only bought it at double the price since the man had no change. Not that it means anything to me. As he packs the bracelet and hands it over to me I wonder how will I ever give it to her?

What if she starts seeing the human side to my facade? She must hate me for her own good or she will want to get involved in a thing, she shouldn't be. I wander around the street some more before I decide to make my way to the shop. I hope it's empty now.

A familiar figure catches my eye just as I come back to the Dargah. I see her coming out of the shrine, she seems to be scanning the crowd, her eyes going over me but not stopping at me courtesy of the scarf wrapped on my face, before she makes her way to the southern part of the patio.

My legs follow her as if on whim to find her leaning against the marble railing. I can't see her face, only her backside covered by a long black burqa. She throws her head inviting the breeze. She really needed the break.

For a moment I am drawn into a trance as I see her standing there. I can't help imagine how her tendrils would have flown over her face and my fingers would have skimmed her soft flesh pulling them back. A smile takes over my face as I touch the bracelet, waiting to see her reaction. Perhaps I can slip it in too. I shake my head as if chastising myself for being this way when it's only been a week or so since I met her. I might just risk showing her my human side to see her eyes glow for once. A few light moments here and there won't hurt her.

But the moment is soon broken as I see another familiar figure making his way to her. My eyes narrow immediately and I can't seem to help the jealousy flowing through my veins. She seems hesitant at first but turns back and says something before sweeping her eyes through the crowd as if searching for someone.

Pride sweeps through me and I am about to go ahead but then it strikes me. She must be looking for me afraid to be caught given what happened this morning. And the realization only makes my heart clench in resentment. I wasn't jealous because she was talking to a man, hell she isn't mine for me to feel so. But, I couldn't ignore how perfect they are for each other.

They are both doctors. It's only natural for a doctor to fall for another, given theri mutual understanding and similarities. And as much as it hurts to admit, the lad fairs pretty well in the looks department.

Why would she choose me over him? Not that I want her to choose me, but she should go back to India without getting attached to either of us.

Fine if she wants to be with him, she can, not that I care. My fingers tighten around the beads, as I avert my eyes away looking for the shop. I can't jeopardise my work for her, so instead I focus on what I had initially come here to do. There's only one person now at the shop.

I hurry over there as the scrawny man packs the flower basket for the customer. Just as he looks up, his eyes flash in recognition as his eyes meet mine.

" How much is the best flower basket?" I ask him looking around the shop as if evaluating the flowers.

He waits a moment as the man goes out of earshot before answering, " 1234 PKR, Sahab."

1234.

"Okay, fine." Just as I finish the sentence, I feel warm hands on my biceps as she says my name. I turn my head to look into the familiar pair of warm, dark eyes staring at me curiously through the veil. Her lingering warm hands on my biceps feels intimate, something my woman would do. I don't know why I like him calling my name so much, I can't seem to get enough of it although she calls me by my name a lot. That makes me think how will my real name sound coming out from those lips?

" I told you to wait inside. What are you doing here?" I ask, caught off guard.

" I waited for you, but it's too late. I want to get back home. What are you doing here?" She asks, waiting for an answer.

I waited for you. Why do these words make me imagine things that aren't meant for me?

" I was just getting flowers for you. Anyway since you are done, we can get going." I say, immediately regretting my answer. She's bound to get curious now, given that I haven't even bought flowers.

I take her hands in mine pulling her away, further from the shop, hoping she doesn't think too much into it. Her hands feel soft and warm, always comforting me in spite of my warring emotions, the ice to my fire.

Or perhaps the fire to my fire, matching me for what I am.

________________________________________________________

After leaving her back home, I hurry over to the nearby railway station. Currently, I am standing outside the locker room, learning against the door sipping milk tea from an earthen cup while waiting for the last passenger to get out so that I can get to work.

Just as he gets out, I take another swig of the tea, the hot liquid burning my throat before throwing it away on the sidewalk where it meets several other used earthen cups.

Locker no 1234.

My eyes scan the huge room full of lockers before finally resting on one. There it is, at the farthest end. Now, getting to work I take out the paper clip from my pocket, straightening one end and bending it to 90 degrees. I use the clip, inserting it into the keyhole and pressing my ears to it, pressing it one more time before it dangles open. The metallic door makes a noise like an old hag as it opens to reveal a white envelope. I pick it up, quickly shoving it under my kurta before scanning the crowd for any threat. Satisfied, I close the locker before steadily making my way out of the room.

Back home, I lock the door, before tearing open the envelope to scan the contents only to find three pictures.

Blood rushes to my head as soon as the meaning settles. My stomach knots at the very idea but I don't waste any time lingering on it as I flip over the picture to find a date scribbled on it.

That would be tomorrow. Shit!

Quickly tucking the pictures in the envelope, I throw it on the bed and us thee duvet to cover it before rushing out to convey the message.

Innocents are gonna die.

Author's Note:

Aiye janab- Come Sir.

PKR- Pakistani Rupee.( 1 PKR= Rs. 0.44 =0.0060 US Dollar)

Did you check the bracelet in the media box? Do you like it?

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