Farmeed / One-shot Series

~ chitta kukkar baneray te ~

"Farjaad!"

"Acha okay, sorry, ab nahi karoon ga promise"

"Kyun aaye hein yahan is waqt?"

"Wo kya hai ke, meri biwi - I mean bilkul honay wali biwi - ne subah mujhe call ki. Us ne mujh se kaha ke mujhe batayein mein konsa dress pehnoon."

He paused as he took another step towards her, his eyes fixated on her face. 

"Mene us ko buhat mukhlisana maswahara diya. Sara din phir mene intezaar kiya ke ab picture aaye gi, ab dekhnay ko milay ga ke wo suit kesa lag raha hai."

Umeed bit her cheeks to stop her grin. She had purposely been teasing him all day. 

"Par nahi, nothing. Phir mene janaab ko message kiya, mene kaha ke dikha bhi do ab suit. Aur pata hai aagay se mujhe kya mila?"

Umeed was finding it harder to stop herself from breaking into a laugh at this point. Farjaad was still looking into her eyes. 

"Aagay se, madam ne mujhe apnay hath ki aik tasveer bhej di, jis mein peeche suit nazar aa raha tha thora sa. Ab batao, ye koi sahi harkat hai karnay wali?"

Umeed shook her head innocently. 

"Nahi, harkat to waqaye buhat ghalat hai."

"Haina? Mene bhi yehi kaha ussay. Mene kaha ke agar yehi karna tha jo mujh se suit pick karwanay ki kya zarorat thi. Phir apni marzi ka pehan lena tha na."

He was standing merely inches away now. Their eyes bore into each other's. 

"Bilkul theek, phir, us ne kya kaha aagay se?"

Farjaad drew in a sharp, overdramatic breath. 

"Bas na poochein, us zaalima ne jawaab hi nahi diya aagay se!"

Umeed gasped, playing along with his drama. 

"Na karein!"

"Sach mein! Ab us baat ko puray 10 ghentay honay walay hein. Abhi tak mera message seen kar ke chora hua hai."

Umeed stifled the giggle that escaped her lips. 

"Ye to waqaye buhat bura hua aap ke saath."

"Aisa hi hai. Phir mujhe yahan aana para dekhnay ke liye ke aakhir aisa bhi kitna hi haseen lag raha hai jora pehna hua ke achanak mohtarma ke mizaaj aasman mein puhanch gaye."

He finally moved his eyes from her face to the rest of her body - trailing all the way down to her feet, where he saw the red khussas he had specifically asked her to wear. Umeed followed every movement of his eyes as they scanned her. Her breath got caught when she saw his lips turn into a little smirk. 

Moments passed before either of them said anything. Farjaad's eyes had landed back to her face after moving all over her body. They both kept staring at each other. 

"Phir? Dekh ke kis nateejay pe puhanchay hein aap?"

Farjaad's smirk got deeper. 

"Mizaaj aasman pe puhanchna waqaye jaiz tha."

One of Umeed's favourite thing about receiving compliments from Farjaad were how distinct they were. He had this unique ability of moulding the most generic and cheesiest of compliments into his own form, which were so personalised, adding an element of his essence into them. They were mostly very direct and to the point, yet there was always something that made them stand out from generic compliments men gave their lovers.