Ittefaq Say (MeeraSim FF)

13 - Tiyaar

The stop at Hyderabad came faster that expected, Meerab's train was cut unexpectedly short. But it's the only option she saw whilst confused, the path seemingly dissassembled and left incomplete. It seemed as though there was a rickety broken bridge infront of her, she was unsure if there even was a path infront of her beneath the fog. How can a person take the next step if they dont know if ground awaits beneath their feet, or a mighty plummet through a missing pannel of the bridge?

That route is what she seeked from the dargah; clarity, reassurance and peace of mind.

The train tracks screeched, coming to halt and the rumbling vibrated through her body as a sign that her path would forever diverted as she took her first step with Murtasim.

'Tiyaar hou, samaan utah leeya hai?' Murtasim asked turning over his own shoulder, his own brief case and suitcase in hand, that brown jacket over his wide shoulders, all ready to go. (Are you ready? Have you got your luggage?)

Meerab nodded, biting her lip in contemplation as to why her heart was so settled. She had never given a second though to Hyderbabad, it was just inconspicuous town on her route to the mega city Karachi where she could easily camouflage into the shadows- or so she intended.

'Tiffing mujhay deydo,' he instructed, her hands already occupied in holding the black gifted pashmina over her shoulders and the shopping bag tightly huddled under her shoulder, holding on for dear life. No doubt leaving moon marks into the fleshy part of her palm. (Give me your lunch box.)

Murtasim had an inkling that it housed her valueables, her 'zevaraat' that she intended to split so he didnt even offer to carry it on her behalf. He retrieved the tiffin off her and opened the booth's door, finding the outside world suddenly more busy. Rushed as people moved, in transit to the exit doors. 'Exit us taraf hai,' guided her through the crowd and out the opened doors. (The exit is that way.)

A sense of urgency washed over of them and he began moving, and Meerab's feet somehow formulated a pattern, left, right, left right- his right hand hovering behind her back, careful not to knock into her. It was almost like a shield so no one would attempt to shove past her. 'Tumhara Hyderabad hamesha itna busy hota hai?' She asked  over the bustle if the midday rush. ( Is your Hyderabad alway this busy?)

'Taqreeban,' he replied, eyes searched for free space to huddle outwards, free from the traffic. His heavier luggase firmly in his grasp. (Pretty much.)

As soon as they stepped onto Hyderbads'a platform, a stale air attacked them, reminding of the static of the ground beneath.

'Aapko paani, snacks chahiye?' He asked her, eyes glacing ahead. It had been a while after their breakfast. Several vendors at the ready just outside, their stalls propped up with crisps, sweets, minifridges of drinks and a scattering of newspapers. (Do you want water or anything to eat?)

Her tummy was almost empty, but she craved another sign, a tug of the heart to lead the way. 'Nahi shukria,' she replied nonchalantly whilst peering off to the side, the white and blue minaret towering over the skyline- a guiding beacon of light for all travellers. A promise of rest and prayers to soothe the soul. (No thankyou.)

Hungry eyes searched the tuck shop, finally resting on some lays crisps and mango juice cartons. 'Yeh aur yeh, dou dou kardo,' Murtasim mumbled to the kid whilst change rattled in his pocket as he dug around, clinking from the contact as his fingers grabbing in the confined space. 'Yeh toffee-an bhe daal dou,' he added whilst his eyes darted to some sweets that he knew his little Noori loved. (Give me that and thay, 2 of each.)

The younger boy nodded, his over grown hair collapsing on his forehead in a shaggy manner. It was a small shop, an older man tidying up in the back of the tuck shop- a garlands of packets of nuts hung across the storefront.