Arziyaan

Take Two, Murtasim Khan

"Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us."
― David Richo

"The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone."
― Jane Austen 

"I am married, man, "Murtasim said, raising his glass to Junaid as they sat, sharing a drink at the gazebo in the garden, looking towards Haveli- a place that is his home, which holds his past and future together.

"You are a married man," Junaid agreed, clinking his glass to Murtasim's, "Welcome to the married side of life, my friend, just like the rest of us."

Everyone had settled back into their rooms after Nikah and dinner. Junaid was more friend than security head for Murtasim. When Murtasim moved to Karachi, the first year, he needed to make his mark which meant having his security out of the shadow of his grandfather. Junaid had just started his security firm just then. Both of them had built their empires alongside. He was a security head at the haveli for a few days as a friend. Junaid was his only friend, who had seen him hit rock bottom, put his broken heart back, and then hit rock bottom again. Junaid witnessed all his fears and accomplished just like Murtasim could attest to Junaid's journey.

"Speaking from experience, I can assure you there will never be a dull moment in your life." But, Junaid reassured, "Wives have a way of simultaneously making your life easy and difficult. And they are always right."

"Wife," Murtasim said out loud, trying to see how the word rolled off his tongue. When he heard it, he was surprised at the contradictory emotions he felt just from one word. It made him feel uncertain and perplexed, yet there was a sense of ownership that he could not shake. "What am I going to do, Junaid?" Murtasim sighed.

"Your old life is no longer plausible, Murtasim," Junaid decided to be honest. "It's time to come back home, Murtasim. You can no longer hide in Karachi. Agha Sahab is getting old, and he is visibly tired. You have to take over the responsibilities that come with this haveli. You are the real Khan of this Haveli and the people attached to your clan." Junaid took a sip of his drink and turned to look at Murtasim, who was looking at the Haveli with complaints in his eyes.

"They have given you time to heal. Now it is your turn to give them time, heal their wounds and solve their problems. When Bakhtawar Chacha was here, it was different. He dealt with the day-to-day issues, which took off the stress from Agha Sahab's shoulders. Life has thrown you a curveball, my friend, and you do not have the luxury of dropping the catch. But you already know all of that, and knowing you, the wheels are already in motion to achieve that; otherwise, you would not have left for Karachi, leaving Agha Sahab in this condition. You can manage Karachi and Hyderabad both easily. You are not fooling anyone. " Junaid pointed out, which made Murtasim scoff. "Meerab Murtasim Khan- that is your real crucible."

"God damn it, Junaid!" Murtasim swore, "Do you have to call her that?" He wanted another drink. But after Junaid married three years ago, they had committed to only having one drink for special occasions.

"That is her identity now, like it or not," Junaid said matter of factly, "In fact, her only identity at this moment is that she is Murtasim Khan's wife."

"I can't trust anyone again, Junaid. I don't know how to build a relationship anymore. She is eight years younger than me." Murtasim closed his eyes, trying to shove away all the emotion and pain that was flooding back. " She gets a broken shell of a man. How is that fair to her?"

"I can't live your marriage for you. That is something that you both have to figure out among yourselves," Junaid advised, "But the only way to make any relationship work is to communicate. Start there. Eight years younger, yes, but from what I have observed, she is very sorted for her age." Junaid took the last sip of his drink, stood up, and declared, "I will do my rounds and call it a night. I have a busy day planned with Agha Sahab tomorrow."