Mehr-o-Mah (مہر و ماہ) -
The sun and the moon
A collection of short stories filled with love, spice, drama and a roller coaster of emotions and of course, a huge part of my imagination.
(The second generation of Ahd-e-Vafa)...
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Zaahira had her eyes closed in relaxation. The adventurous day and the hyped roaming had surrendered her body and mind to exhaustion. It was a little past Isha, one that she had prayed with Ruqayyah when Dilawar was with his father. The couch she was seated on seemed like an odd item amongst the traditional decor and the charpai in the corner.
She would have fallen into a blissful sleep if not for the sudden commotion from just outside the room she was seated in. Scrunching her nose in confusion, she opened her eyes to gaze at the hallway that looked empty but was surrounded by hushed and slightly agitated whispers.
If not for the humane sounds, she would have feared that jins were having a party around.
Zaahira controlled her urge to go and have a look at what was going on but knowing that it might be a family matter, she remained put. Only when a worked up looking Ruqayyah entered the room did she allow her curiosity to turn into worry.
The older woman held a hesitant look in her eyes along with the an inkling of fear. Ruqayyah had just had a talk with her husband who seemed hell bent to carry on with the decision he had taken.
Without the consent of anyone apart from his own self.
"Aunty, sab theek toh hai na?"
Zaahira couldn't help but ask. Getting up from her position, she walked up to Ruqayyah who was looking on the verge of fainting with how pale her face looked.
And her expression just sparked Zaahira's wish to know what had the commotion been all about?
Ruqayyah stared at the young lady for a good few seconds before gulping in restraint and giving a curt nod. The words of Mushtak rang in her ears and so did Dilawar's heavy protest against it but she was tied by a vow to support her husband.
"W-woh," Ruqayyah paused for a second, taking in Zaahira's form but more specifically, peering deep into her eyes. The action helped anxiety to seep through Zaahira's mind as she tried to avoid the eye contact while being least disrespectful.
Taking a bated breath, Ruqayyah seemed to have convinced herself about something before she took hold of Zaahira's palm in hers, making the younger lady flinch at the sudden touch before surrendering to it.
"Bacha, kuch baat karni thi aapse, suno gi na?"
Such emotional talks always left Zaahira on the edge and by the look and tone in Ruqayyah's voice, Zaahira wasn't very sure if she'd like wherever this conversation was heading.
Trying not to show her urge to turn away and ignore the talk, Zaahira anyhow gave a reluctant nod to the old woman.
"Attaullah sahab, woh jo budhe aadmi Dilawar ke saath aye the, yaad hai?"
She nodded, a confused look mearing her features.
"Humara gaon bahot chota hai bache. Yaha ek baat ko zaban se nikle aur failne mein zyada der nahi lagti, khas kar agar baat kisi ke izzat aur aabruh hi ho."
