Gunnah e Shab

14. Sight • نظر

"Where is phopho and Anbar?" [Aunt] Asghar questioned, his eyes looking for the two.

"Anbar is in Lahore and your aunt is in her bedroom". Azan Khan replied, tight lipped.

"Why did you send her to Lahore all by herself?" He questioned.

"Stop it Asghar. Uskay maa baap zinda hain uski fikr karney keh liye, aur mat bhulo uska eik addad mangetar bhi hai". [Her parents are alive to worry for her, and don't forget she has a fiancé as well.] Saheefa tucked at her elder son's sleeve.

Like an innocent kid, Asghar nodded his head, all attention falling on Azmaray who had been silent till now.

"I'll be heading to bed. Wake me up when dinner is ready". He announced, leaving before anyone could reply.

Inside his bedroom Azmaray flopped onto his bed. Sighing at the feel of home, his sheets smelled of lemon and jasmines. The signature scent of the detergent used. Nuzzling his face deeper into the pillow, he shut his eyes. His bones all of a sudden feeling immensely heavy, the tiredness after the long travel finally catching up. The cool breeze that flew in from the north face window, calmed his warm skin. He could feel the rattling of his bones. Cluttering of his teeth against each other.

His body felt like it was burning. Burning in the weight of his uncountable sins. The nightly ones, as well as all the sins he had accumulated with the verbal abuse. Each day he painted his skin black. Each morning, every night, he earned sins as if they were a precious treasure. He had succumbed — fallen from grace. At times Azmaray felt like an angel fallen. From being the child of love and light he had transitioned into a man of hate and dark.

His body shuddered as his toes began to burn, curling with fire as it spread out like a trees root. He whimpered in pain, his head aching immensely, on the verge of turning into a skull shattering one. Gone was the strong arrogant man, replaced with a helpless boy instead. One that needed his mother to kiss his sweaty brow and whisper to him that it would all be okay. One that would hug him from behind and stay awake with him as he suffered.

Azmaray forced himself to sleep. His eyes too heavy to even remain open. Throat so parched that it was near impossible to call for help. He could only wish that when someone came to call him for dinner, they'd notice his condition. It was God punishing him for all his sins. For all the hurt that he had caused to mortals. For all the arrogance with which he had treaded on the ground. In particular, for the way he had treated the woman Rani.

———

The ground was covered in three inches of snow. Pristine white, with tall trees towering above, their thick lush foliage acting as cover from the open sky. Azmaray tread through the snow slowly, calculating each move lest he fall and hurt himself. His body covered in a thick cherry wood sheepskin sweater and velveteen pants. Leather gloves on his hands that he stuffed into the snow, forming a snowball.

"Behind you!" A silvery voice shouted at him.

Azmaray turned around with the snowball in hand, looking out for the voice when a thick snow ball hit the back of his head.

"You're so easy to fool Azmaray," the voice giggled.

Grinning, Azmaray stalked towards her, grabbing her hand softly, pulling her towards himself. Kissing her forehead as she hugged back tight.