Koh-e-Noor

//• aik - chaar •//

[Yeh main hoon yaa phir tum hi ho,
Man uljha hai iss uljhan mein.]

"Man mast magan, man mast magan, bas tera naam dohraae." I play the tabla on the table and move my head to the beat.

The chunkus repeat, "man mast magan man mast magan bas tera naam dohraae."

"Chaahe bhi toh, bhool naa paae,"

"Man mast magan, man mast magan—"

"Since when is Hamza so fun?" Alina, a member of the chunkus, interrupts all of us after suddenly overthinking.

"Yeh tum dono behnon ka hai naa? Do minute baad overthink karna?"

"Bhai waise bhi cool hain. Zaira ne hi aa ke pataa nahin kyun calm down kiya huaa tha."

I look at Nida through the corner of my eyes and she exclaims how that is also a very Zaira thing. So are these songs. And this craze.

And I laugh to hide how ridiculous this past moment was.

Why would I ever play an imaginary tabla?

It reminds me of the day she played the imaginary drums on her desk and hours later showed me NFAK in the car.

"She calmed me down?" I repeat Nida's previous statement.

"Haan naa, you were so fun to be around and even though you hated Pakistan at least you used to chuckle and smirk and have a mischievous side, now it's just you admiring Zaira's mischiefs."

Everyone makes mocking teasing sounds.

"Bas kar. Awain kuj vi. Woh tou, ab, umr ke saath samajhdaar h—"

"—Bas bhai, samajhdaar ho hi naa jaaein aap."

"Haina? Nahin hona chaahiye. Chalo aik aur sharaarat sahi." I look at the clock striking 11:12PM.

—  Z A I R A  —

I rushed in the room and counted to realise everyone was there, only I was late, "Sorry sorry sorry, face mask lagaaya hua tha, bees minute lagaa ke rakhna tha aur Aadee ne kuchh minute aur rauk liya, main tou kasmey aane waali thi, alarm bhi lagaaya huaa tha, snooze kar ke b—"

"Itni kasmein naa khaao ghabraa kar,
Jaao hum aitebaar karte hain.
Abbh bhi aa jaao kuchh nahin bigra,
Abbh bhi hum intezaar karte hain"

I stared in his eyes and felt the rest of the house vanishing until a giggle or two from the girls was heard. I sat down on the floor in front of him, the ahl-e-khana continued to disappear into thin air.

I tried to lower my eyes but they stopped on his neck and stole glances of his dimples through the peripheral vision.

Black background, his black button up shirt's black buttons stopping in the middle of his chest. I looked down and the coffee table between us disappeared too.

I gasped and saved the cup of coffee I had just stolen from his room.

I closed my eyes praying he didn't catch the embarrassing moment, at the same time, swirling the spoon to melt the two mini sugar cubes.