Losing Echoes [Complete]

22. Ultimatum

For the literature Rawalpindi and Islamabad are twin cities. The geography also says so. But the vibe is poles apart. If Islamabad is cold, superficial with a deceptive yet alluring beauty; Pindi is just a normal city, as normal as it can get. It has the same easygoing energy with you'd get in any part of the country. Welcoming and hospitable.

That particular evening, Shamsabad was buzzing with the ever known hustle of a June evening. The congested and warm air was not very kind as the summer had just started setting in with its whole glory but when had weather precluded people from going on about their business. That'd be unnatural and Pindi is as natural as it is breathing.

"So you're sure hun?"

Fareed Haq's inquisitive voice droned on the sizzling of meat he was grilling. His small Shawarma and barbecue point was in full swing, business was pouring in and his favourite costumer happened to stand right in front of him.

"Positive. Baba is not going to come around easily but I think I'll be fine. Ammi is supporting my fully so are my sisters."

"But Army isn't easy to survive, young lad."

Hamid smiled but it had no hint of nervousness.

"I know and I'm fully prepared. Just pray for me, Chacha that I get the needed marks in ISSB tests."

"My best wishes are with you, son."

His expert hands were packing the two shawarmas ordered by Hamid. The intoxicating smell of grilled and fried food permeated in the air announcing to the far and near of their forgotten appetite. The local job owners who had just pulled down the shutter of their shops were making a beeline towards the food streets. Few affluent hotels had put on large screens to make the atmosphere more accommodating for their client body and at this time the 8 PM news bulletin was flashing across it. Hamid who had taken out his wallet to pay Fareed halted in the process. His line of vision was direct at the screen across him. Many other eyes were already glued there and someone did the right thing of increasing the volume.

"The new Pandora box is about to get opened."

"This is nothing short of what happens in movies."

"The man the nation mourned over months back, turns out isn't dead at all. Major Zaviyar Ali's death was a ugly little secret which has now come out of under the rug."

"The guy in question has been spotted in pretty haggard state outside of his grandfather's lavish house. If anyone doesn't know then we must tell you that his grandfather is none other than Yahya Duraid. The reports are suggesting there's so much behind this façade of a death and a press conference is soon taking place to let the nation know what has conspired."

To back their claim, the news channels were circulating a grainy photo of the army officer. The details were not visible but whoever had followed his death news and covering religiously, would know that it was him only. Hamid was one of those. He had no link with the guy, just the knowledge that he was an honest officer and had given his life for his country. Ever the army lover, Hamid had made Zaviyar his role model overnight. But now looking at the news, Hamid was not only shocked but both disappointed and pained as well.

The whispering among the masses had now turned into full on arguments, comments and even mock. Hamid collected his order and without uttering a word turned to his street to get to home.