Arziyaan

Doori

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

― Martin Luther King Jr.

"Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it."

― Candace Bushnell

"Women die in childbirth, Meerab. There is no way I am risking you, Meri Jaan. I don't want kids." Murtasim said, gripping his wife's hands as if she would vanish on him. Her face had turned white at his words, and his heart was in his throat. He had never planned to marry, and when he had married her, Murtasim had never thought they would reach this point where this would be a conversation.

"Do you not want to have kids right now, Khan Sahab or never?" Meerab whispered, looking into the panicked eyes of her husband. He looked scared. Meerab had never seen fear on this man's face before, but she could not get over the words he had just uttered.

"Ever, Meerab," his voice shaking, Murtasim presented his case to his wife, "I have lost my parents, my sister and even my will to live. Then you came to Meerab and brought the colours back to my life. You give me a reason to live and be a better person from the day before. I am not risking you for anything in this world. We already have two kids, Ayat and Azan. Azan will be the next Khan. Ayat will handle the Khan Industries. The future is secure."

"Ayat and Azan are my kids, and they can be the next generation for the Gaddi and the Khan Industries, but I do want kids, Khan Sahab. I want a son who will be his father's shadow or a daughter who brings us joy with her antics," Meerab clarified her intentions and saw her husband retreat into a shell before her eyes, so she urged, "You are great with Dua, Murtasim. You will make a great father."

"That is the thing, Meerab. I do not want to be anything more than Meerab Khan's husband. You fulfill me." Murtasim's heart broke as his wife's eyes welled up, but there would be darkness without her, "Nothing is more important than you. I am not risking you for anything. You are enough for me. Everyone I love leaves me."

"Childbirth is not a fatal disease. Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time. It is the most natural thing." Meerab only saw the denial in her husband's whisky orbs. "I am not Humaira, Khan Sahab. Don't let your past dictate your present and future."

"This is not about Humaira. It is about my inability to live without you." Murtasim clarified, frustrated. "I thought you did not have any problem with Humaira," Murtasim said defensively.

"I do not have a problem with Humaira and your past, Khan Sahab," Meerab said stiffly. A tangible tension filled the air as her husband's accusation hurt. "But I have an issue when you bring it between us. I understand your fears and respect your insecurities, but this is a two-person decision." Meerab tried to show him a different perspective, "I'm not insisting on starting a family immediately. However, when the right time arrives, we can seek advice from multiple doctors and gather various opinions to address your concerns. I simply ask that you remain open to having discussions, Khan Sahab."

"No amount of consultation or assurance from any doctor can guarantee that I won't lose you. The risk of losing the mother is always present. You are a miraculous gift from Allah, and for me, there's no value in living in a world without you," Murtasim declared firmly as he stood up. Repeating with finality, he emphasized, "I cannot fathom any scenario in this universe where I would be willing to take a chance of losing you." With his heart in his throat, he left the room, shaken by her inability to see his perspective.

Seated on the bed, Meerab watched her husband's departing figure, sensing their shared pain and hurt. A sob escaped her lips as his inability to come to the middle ground over an irrational fear. A fear that will stop him from living a fulfilling life. She thought she had helped him move on a little, but now Meerab feared that she would always compete with his past. Life seemed more manageable when there was no love; now, everything felt more challenging.