Hasil e Lahasil | حاصلِ لا حاصل

19

Chapter 19

The Pillar of Salt

A few weeks after the rift between the the Malik father and son, they received an invitation from the Shah's who were celebrating the health of their child, Daud Shah, his new life after those months lying as a breathing corpse in that hospital bed.

Daud, now capable of walking and moving without difficulty, after the physiotherapy, had been grateful for a new life. He walked around in the courtyard where a few members of the family and friends were seated together involved in the conversation about the accident that had occured months ago. The accident which was long forgotten and remembered today as Daud stood alive and healthy in front of these people.

They weren't actually family members but snakes hidden beneath their skin ready to bite their prey any moment it grasped a hold on it. He could only scoff at the irony of the situation where the people who would have been actually happy about his death were now celebrating his health with his beloved family.

Among them sat Dilawar, the man who irked him. But he also knew that Dilawar was another puppet also being led by the real show holders sitting behind the curtains. That man clearly had a potential to do much better than sit in this village with the intentions of marrying someone he had not known.

He wished he could loathe him, act on his emotions, the jealously, the helplessness, just because like him, Daud was also being led as a puppet.

A big feast was prepared, which included variety of meats: mutton, beef, duck; dishes upon dishes of Biryani and other rice as well as varity of sweets, which included kheer, gulab jamun, halwa, etc.

The women and men were seated in segregation where platters of food were served to the guests and refilled as soon as it finished. A lot of food, clothes, etc were distributed among the entire villagers as the Shah's included them in their celebration.

It was around half past eight, when Dilawar stepped outside the courtyard into the vast garden of the Shah, away from the crowd inside to breathe some fresh air.

He wished to at least get a glimpse of the queen of the night, Laila. But with the segregation, he knew it was not possible. After a few moments of isolation, he decided to go back when a shuffling behind a dark corner in the garden caught his attention.

Instead of disregarding it, he found his feet moving towards the place. There she was, clad in another of her grey dresses, her long tresses falling in waves behind her back as she crouched down underneath a tree, filling in a bowl of food for a cat looming nearby.

Unbeknownst to his presence, she stood up, dusted her hands and turned around only to be stand still, shocked. Her heart beating erratically in her chest which she was sure was galloping so fast that he could hear it in the silence of the night.

As he stood rooted to his spot, taking in her appearance, his thoughts wandered to the verse from the poetry of Ghalib,

شکنِ زلفِ عنبریں کیوں ہے
نگاہِ چشمِ سُرمہ سا کیا ہے

shikan-e-zulf-e-ambaree kyon hai ?
nigah-e-chashm-e-soorma sa kya hai ?

(Why do these fragrant curls exist?
What are these glances from those kajal lined eyes of yours?)

Her brown eyes, lined with kohl, enunciated the depth of her eyes, which held secrets and mysteries hidden deep beneath them.

He yearned to touch her, hold her, close in his arms. Inhale the heavenly fragrance emanating from her by buring his nose deep in her silky hair.