Arziyaan

The Ghosts of Past

Noor Aankhon Ka Teri Jaan Leva Hai Bada

Mohabbat Teri Mujhe Ab Jaane Degi Kaha

Fitoor Bhara Hai Tera Nasha Ye Mohabbat Ka Hai

Nikal Ke Jaunga Main Teri Changul Se Kaha

Dil Galti Kar Betha Hai, Galti Kar Betha Hai Dil

Ab Pyaar Dobara NaHoga, Bol Kaffara Kya Hoga

As Dr. Saeed finished giving out everyone's duties and charges to all the doctors and students, Zafar and Tara Ashraf, a first-year medical student, opened the doors to the patients. One by one, the patients started to come in. The silence was instantly replaced by commotion. Tara managed the front desk, allotting people their doctors and stall numbers to do. Zafar placed himself at the entrance today since Ahad Quershi was around yesterday. Today, he provided Meerab with a walkie-talkie, enabling him to monitor her activities while he stationed himself at the entrance. Zafar ensured that the stall assigned to Meerab was directly within his view. As Meerab left her stall to help Dr. Qasim, Zafar turned to follow her when he heard a voice behind him say, "I am here to see Dr. Meerab Khan." Zafar stilled, recognizing the voice. Things just got worse from bad.

"Dr Khan is a student doctor. You have to see a senior doctor first," Tara gave the standard reply, as a few returning patients insisted on seeing Meerab only in the past few days. "Please give me your ID."

"Dr. Meerab Khan is my doctor, and I will only see her," came the stubborn reply. Zafar sighed and turned to his Khan and his boss, Armaan, standing there.

Just then, Tara looked up at him, frustrated, "Zafar, here is another admirer of Meerab Baji. Can you please explain to him that he can't see her?" Then she looked at the ID handed to her. As Tara read the name on it, she froze in panic. Murtasim Khan stood before her, demanding to see his wife. Dressed in dark blue chinos and a white shirt, he was strolling handsome even though his features bore subtle marks of an overnight journey- tousled hair, an overnight stubble and weary yet determined eyes which were shooting daggers at her at the moment.

Before Zafar could reply, Murtasim asked in a dangerously calm tone, "What do you mean by admirers of Meerab Baji?"

"Stall number Seven, Khan Sahab. Please wait there," Zafar cut in before things got out of hand. He did not like many things about Murtasim Khan but could not question his love for his wife. "Meerab Baji is helping Dr. Qasim. I will send her your way."

"What admirers?" Murtasim stood glued to his spot, awaiting his answer.

"Murtasim Bhai, Are you sure you want to pick this fight with Meerab right now?"Armaan chipped in behind the Khan, which made Zafar bite his cheek to stifle the laugh, "I strongly recommend that you choose your battles at the moment." Murstasim nodded in understanding and made his way to stall number seven. Armaan joined Zafar at the entrance as Zafar radioed Meerab that an urgent patient was waiting for her in stall number seven.

Murtasim occupied a temporary room designed to offer the necessary privacy for examinations. In one corner, a small table with drawers contained medical supplies and equipment. He might have acknowledged that his funds were being effectively utilized if he hadn't been concerned about his wife. The room featured an examination bed and a compact chair placed in the opposite corner, which he now occupied. Each second passed like an eternity as he waited for his reason to exist to walk through the door back into his life. Murtasim did not even want to blink just to risk missing her.

The door swung open, and into the room stepped the reason for his existence, clad in a soft pink salwar kameez, resembling his saving angel. Murtasim rose to his feet, beholding his queen. Their eyes locked, and at that moment, Murtasim Khan experienced a resurgence of life. As she moved to leave at the mere sight of him, Murtasim grasped her wrist, his heart pounding in his throat, his gaze entwining with hers, and he implored, "Please, Begum." When she did not leave, he stepped towards hers, leaving a few breaths to linger between them. Murtasim meticulously absorbed her every feature, ensuring that his memories did justice to her essence. Then, he enveloped her in a hug, his arms encircling her, his face nestled into her neck, savouring the fragrance that represented his sanity.