8 - Surma

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Warning : contains slightly disturbing content.

In the following days, Shah Nawaz was discharged from hospital and Murtasim returned with Meerab to Karachi. The ride had been silent, the internal stillness of the vehicle forcing them to linger in a space between awkwardness and uncanny peace. A thousand questions and accusations were not uttered to preserve the farce of amicability.

He was a Khan too now and he wondered if she new of the newfound association, the prospect that presented itself. The vision of the kohl eyed women remained in his mind, scratching some corner that whispered how wrong it all was- the den, the beating, someone targeting Meerab - a moutain beckoned to uncovered. Being besides her again was.... strange, pulling his mind away seemed futile when he was perpetually greeted with her honey laden voice and slivers of her flesh caught in the periphery of his gaze.

''Kab se ho rha hai ye sb? Ye shooting pehli baar hui thi?'' He asked, his deep voice cutting through the vibrating background noise of the car. (From how long is this all happening? Did the shooting happened for the first time?)

''Pehli baar tha,'' she replied, her acrylic nails tapping on her phone as she typed. The clicking was a melody that echoed her apparent disinterest. It was a sort of seclusion, a cave formed around as her hair flopped forwards and curtained where whilst she sat in the front passenger seat. (It was the first time.)

''Qareeb aaya tha?'' He asked, causing a bulging breath to catch in the confine of her throat by forcing her to re-live the harrowing trauma - the bullet ricochetting in her ears. ''Dikhne mein kaisa tha? Kuch alfaz kahe the?'' The words were cool, he was simply foraging for clues. (Did he come near you? What did he look like? Did he say anything?)

Gliding eloquently, he drove with a finesse, the thick leather wheel held still as they roamed the motorway back with endless flat land on either side. Other than the passing of occasional cars, it felt like only the two of them remained on this planet, a discernibly barren dessert and hollow of life.

''I don't remember. I was too busy focusing on the gun in his hand,'' she replied in a dull tone, covering the way the imagery erupted in her mind, the sudden boom that eclipsed every thought and acts until all she could do was scream in fear of the impending fate of being shot - she knew the bullet had her name on it, to piece her skin, erupt upon  her and inflict with excruciating injury.

Pivoting, another issue sprouted in his mind from his baba's chat in the hospital. ''Tumne bata kyun nahi ke woh party Amar ne arrange ki thi? You let me accuse you in the hospital,'' he remarked, recalling the way he had yelled and blamed her for his father being in a near death state, uncertain as the blood left him by the bucket load. (Why didn't you tell me that Amar organised that party?)

''Meri marzi main bataun ya nahi,'' she replied haughtily, the sun smiling down upon her brilliantly for sticking her ground. (It's my call whether to tell you or not.)

''You were protecting him,'' he scoffed. Around them, the tendrils of their precious lifetime latched, shadowing every gesture and word.

No, Meerab was protecting herself. It was easier to stay away from Murtasim when he hated her, even if the disgust was based on a lie, on a act that was specifically designed to push him away.

So again, she allowed herself to be painted as the villain. ''Of course, mera mangetar hai. Mujhe bardasht nahi hai ke tum usko gaaliya do,'' she fibbed, reasoning that it was a reasonable response if one has even a wisp of attraction for the man. (Of course, he's my fiance. I can't tolerate you badmouthing him.)

''Acha. Itna khaas hai ke tum uski gaadi mein ghar bhi nahi gyi? Ghar walo ko jhooth bola tha mere saath baithne ke liye?'' Murtasim threw back whilst remembering the way she clearly chose him
over Amar - she wasent torn, there was only one obvious and correct answer. (Right. If he's so special to you, then why didn't you go home with him that night? Why did you lie to your family about it?)

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