11 - Gustakhi

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Trigger warning !

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Trigger warning !

After the outburst, Meerab hid within the walls of her locked bedroom for safety, and only ventured out for her classes - using only short sentence with Murtasim, as if he could decipher her from mundane conversation.

But there was no going back when there had been enough friction to reignite a spark between them. In the shadows of which, their childhood silhouette danced and played, both secretly and silently.

In the same way, Murtasim held the lighter up with a thin cigarette balancing between his lips, one hand cupping around the edge, the other thumb flicking the butane lighter in quick succession. His thumb rolled down sharply, until his face was illuminated in the slightest sunset-orange glow. The sky was pitch black.

Other than light, the rest of the Karachi garden was dark, only lit sporadically around the periphery and the veranda- illuminating the bushes into a strange murky shade of green.

Darkness hazed around him, wrapping tendrils of an unknowness around him, squeezing - hence the search for comfort in the tobacco.

The lighter was duly shoved back into his pocket, and Murtasim pulled his phone out. He stood leaning on the wall by the annex, when Mariyum's number was called as she was a compendium of gossip and a possible lead. ''Kya kar rahi ho,'' he asked immediately as she picked up. (What are you doing?)

''Bhai ... parhai,'' she whined. ''Din mein doston ke ghar gyi thi, dessert khaaya, aur ab ghar hun. Koyi kaam hai?'' Her voice was the tiniest bit dry from being so busy, but nothing to awaken concern. She was safe, studying and with friends in Hyderabad - Meerab didn't have the luxury of safety. (Brother, studying. In the day time, I went to my friend's house and had dessert, but i'm home now. Do you need something from me?)

''Sultan family enterprises ko jaanti ho? News se, social media se?'' There was a confidence between them as he practically implored for help. (Do you know of the Sultan family enterprise, the from the news or social media?)

''Those Karachi billionaires? Instagram pe dekha hai - unki beti Alizey Sultan holiday pictures lagati hai.'' (I have seen them on Instagram. Their daughter Alizey Sultan posts pictures of their holiday.)

''Uske baba ki tasveer hai? Politics se koyi link hai? Ya Hyderabad se?'' He pressed, desperate and perplexed as he exhaled the smoke. (Are there any pictures of her father? Do they have any political links? Links to Hyderabad?)

''Mujhe kya pata? Meri personal friend to nahi hai.'' She had just been in awe at the flamboyant excess, now being disturbed from her revision which was already boring. (How would I know, she isn't my personal friend.)

''Aur baba kya kar rahe hai? Daado?'' He missed them dearly, but Meerab had a target on her. (And what is baba doing? Grandmother?)

''Daado so rahi hain aur baba araam kar rahe hain. Shayad news dekh rahe honge,'' she figured, the man was mostly idle as he recovered on bed rest. (Grandmother is sleeping and baba is resting, or maybe watching the news.)

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