Posheeda (پوشیدَہ) -
Concealed; Hidden
*****
Marwan Qureshi, a commando in the Indian army had two goals set in life. One, not to let his father's poisonous words get to him and two, spend the rest of his life serving his...
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*****
The winds moved at an anxiously slow pace, the curtains hardly dancing with its rhythm. The sky looked dull as if not having anything to brighten for, the sun remained half hidden behind the grey clouds and the haveli resembled a silent abode that had not been visited by anyone for ages but the reality was far from it.
In the longue of the huge brick structure, sat a woman in mid-forties. The wooden rocking chair creaked every now and then while a hukka lay in her hands, smoke leaving her lips as if it were a common thing- and it was.
Khurshida begum looked wise as well as cunning. Her eyes that had seen years and met people of different aims reflected in her demeanour. Her relaxed looking features could deceive anyone but the mirth dancing within them could only be spotted if she wished for it to.
"Bech aaye use?"
Her calm question resonated through the eerie silence, sending fearful chills down the spine of the person to whom the question was asked. Badar stood in front of his amma, his hands fisted behind his back in an attempt to hide the nerves but the beads of sweat that trickled down his forehead and neck easily gave it all away.
"A-amma, woh maan-"
"Wajah puchi hai maine? Haan ya na bolo."
Her cold voice hit his ears and his heart shuddered with the fear of what was about to come. Gulping the fearful lump in his throat, he gave her a weak nod and meek,
"Haan."
As soon as the words left his lips, a burning stick was thrown at his cheek. A horrified scream left his lips as his hand on instinct raised up to touch the wounded skin that was crippling slowly.
Khurshida begum did not get up from her seat but the rage in her eyes screamed destruction. Her movements continued, she kept smoking her hukka with her eyes trained on her useless son who had demolished all her plans of a luxurious future.
"Kis se puch kar ye harkat ki?"
Badar winced as he opened his mouth to speak. His left cheek ached badly but he knew better than to voice his pain.
"A-amma, usse nikah karne ki zarurat nahi thi. Uske sar par banduk rakh ke bhi uski jaidat-"
"Apne betuke mashware apne paas rakho! Bhulo mat yaha faisle kaun leta hai. Agar itna hi aasan hota yeh sab, toh kya main dimaag se kamroz hu jo woh tareeka na soch pau?"
Badar gritted his teeth, his hands fisting and unfisting themelves behind his back. His eyes didn't dare make contact with his mother's and that might be the only thing that kept him alive after his stunt.
"Gussa aa raha hai?"
Khurshida begum's mocking tone made it difficult to not yell or scream in anguish. Badar had the same blood flowing through his veins and any minute now his last thread of patience might break but he knew better than to let it go.
