Muntazir

Ilzam | Blame

Dawood Banks HQ.
15:19 pm.

Manha ran a tongue over her lips enjoying the air-conditioned room as her fingers typed over the laptop.

A straightened strand of hair fell over her temple making her tug it back.

The tranquil environment of her cabin was shifted with a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Manha leaned back into the revolving chair, it was soft and comfortable, she never wanted to get up once settled.

The door opened with a soft creak followed by her grandfather's clearing of the throat.

"Abu," she acknowledged sitting up once again and leaned ahead with her forearms on the table.

"How are you going? Haven't seen you around," he unbuttoned his coat taking a seat in front of her.

"Ya, I was in Islamabad for a runway," Manha pressed her lips in a small smile. The elder man nodded as she took a brief look at the wrinkles on his forehead and hands. His beard was almost completely white. He used to colour it but he had left doing it long ago.

She had always admired him for how young he still looked in his sixties but not that day. He looked more than his age at the moment.

"Do you want to talk about something?" She softly asked making him look up from the paperweight.

"I have been reflecting a lot on everything nowadays and to think that I have always worked so hard to build all this up and now my children are taking it all ahead was overwhelming. I have always installed the need for hard work and passion for this business in both of my sons. Hamid became just like I had wanted them to be, career-driven and passionate about my dream. He settled in life and Suleman fell in love. He was always so unbothered about it all, it made me angry and concerned about how will he survive in our world, the business world."

"Niya was just like him, crazy about freedom and I thought she will ruin him," he pressed his lips making Manha stand up, she settled beside him listening intently.

"I got him married to your mother and never bothered to look back at how they were doing and then she died. Your mother. Such a lovely soul she had, she used to keep everything ready when we came back. She used to smile every time no matter what. And then she died. So suddenly it left all of us bewildered. You used to cry day and night, I asked your father to take care of you but he asked me to not worry about you so I didn't." He looked sad and exhausted. Manha reached ahead to hold his hand.

She had never heard about her mother from her father or grandfather before. All that she knew was from Humaira, Nisa's mother, and that too was never detailed.

"You grew up just like that, I only got a glimpse of you running on the stairs or at the dining table all silent and busy in your colour books. You moved to London and then to your own place. I never cared enough to check up on you Manha. I am sorry." Manha stared at the rug silently not knowing how to react, she didn't know why her grandfather was narrating all of it.

"I am sorry that I never cared enough for you and never checked upon how you were doing. Your father became the demon of your life and I couldn't do anything. Please forgive me if you can," he held onto her hands and Manha felt her heart swelling inside her chest seeing the love and apology in his eyes.