The Anthem of the Rebels | ✓

[11] This ain't as easy as we thought

Chapter Eleven

"The court's a complete mess because of the Shahid Raza case. I sneaked in yesterday and guess who is fighting the case from the plaintiff's side?"

"I doubt it's someone well known."

"Exactly! It's an apparent nobody." Harris's voice came through the phone,  the disgust evident in his tone, "It's obvious Raza is going to win again."

Zahid leaned back, a sigh escaping his lips. At times like these, all of the cases he had fought for seemed pointless. As if injustice was invincible. No matter how much one tried to fight for justice- the amount of tyranny was always greater in comparison.

"Anyways, I'm not planning on going to the office any longer. You're quite an item, Zahid- first, you increase our popularity by winning three cases in a row, go away for a break, leaving me to deal with our increasing number of demands, prolong your break by deciding to get married, and don't even tell me until everything is finalized."

Zahid straightened up on his bed, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't plan any of this- and you're the first person I told. Also, I tell you nearly every day to take a break as well, but you go to the office willingly."

"Ai, It's not my fault that I get at least ten mails a day. Anyways," Harris said, " When I get married, I'm going to take a three-month break."

Zahid laughed. "Sure, dude. That is if you get married- I doubt any sensible girl would be willing to marry you."

"Ha ha. Very funny," Harris said, and Zahid could almost see him rolling his eyes.

Before Harris could go on with his long speech of why every sensible girl would want to marry him- Zahid changed the subject. "You're coming to the Nikkah, right? "

"Yep, Insha'Allah. I'll come- but I'll crash at your place for the night. Can't drive to Islamabad and back in a day."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll inform Khala."

Chatting for a couple more minutes- with Harris trying to tease Zahid, but ending up being teased instead, the two of them finally said their goodbyes. As the call ended, Zahid put his phone aside. He has only just closed his eyes when a knock on the door startled him.

Zahid sat up as Mrs. Ahmed entered. Narrowing his eyes, he wondered if she was going to drag him to the market again, but she barely even glanced at him, her eyes fixed on her phone as she took a seat on the sofa.

"I invited Samina and her family, just now. Zahid-" Mrs. Ahmed looked up at him, "- I was going through the invitations. Do you want me to invite someone from your paternal side-"

"No," Zahid cut her off, his voice firm. "It's not like they'll care anyway."

Mrs. Ahmed sighed, tapping her phone. For a while, she did not say anything, and Zahid watched her cautiously. "What about your Phupo?  She was the only one who kept contact with your father after his marriage. She often calls me now as well."'