Based on a request: What if Meerab returned after Haya and Murtasim's nikkah?
What you can expect from this story:
(1) Haya getting Karma for all her schemes.
(2) Murtasim's redemption and self reflection path instead of self pity.
(3) Meerab actually having a voice.
The Mk of this book is Nooran's.
There is no MR.
Meerab being the jolly independent woman as shown in the first ten episodes.
Warning: This is an angst. If you don't want to read it, skip it.
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Warning: Please don't read this if you don't enjoy angst. This book is going to be super angsty. I am not going to change the plot because it was based on a prompt request. This book is going to be continued. Don't read further if you are sensitive. Read a light humour. There are many TB ff with romance. This one is angst. You have been warned enough.
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In a world swirling with unseen mysteries, Murtasim felt trapped in a life that lacked the vibrant colours of love. He grappled with the belief that his deep affection might just be a foolish pursuit. Yet, in that same depth, he found his very purpose.
Driven by the idea that love held the key to feeling truly alive, he ventured into its depths, discovering a sense of liberation that shattered his very will. Love, an all-powerful force, seemed indifferent to his own turmoil-a world echoing with the haunting absence of someone dear.
Amidst this overwhelming ache, he couldn't shake off the feeling of her lingering presence-a love lost but eternally treasured. Everything seemed dull and hollow without her, leaving behind an aching emptiness that only her return could fill.
Why hold onto what's visible when his heart yearned for a connection beyond the tangible? Seasons changed, but his love remained constant, an unchanging beacon in his tumultuous existence.
Drunk on the bittersweet elixir of love, he prepared himself for a future without expectations, finding solace in the freedom of accepting whatever came his way.
Restless within his own skin, he craved liberation, hoping for a chance to soar high and reunite with the one who held his heart.
Struggling to make sense of the world around him, he sought a truth stripped of pretence and illusions, wanting only the raw essence of reality.
Embracing every aspect of existence without judgment, he found solace in the vast emptiness where the echoes of his unspoken love resonated.
Deep within his soul, he clung to the hope of finding the remnants of her love, treasures hidden within the chambers of his heart, forever cherished.
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"...کیا آپ کو یہ نکاح قبول ہے؟"
The maulvi asked. Lost in thoughts, I reminisced about that moment, but with a different person. Meerab Khan, the woman I never wanted to marry. It felt like déjà vu, yet this time, I was filled with remorse. Where was she? I wondered day and night.
I missed her terribly. She had ensnared me, made me fall for her deeply. I immersed myself in every poem by Rumi to feel closer to her. Her captivating large brown eyes, the way she looked at me, and her dramatic actions had completely captured my heart.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I closed them. These eyes longed for her. When would she return? Embrace me? I wanted to gaze into her eyes, but now everything was about to change. Meerab was no longer there, and I was expected to move on with Haya, the woman who had loved me since we were children. I didn't want to marry her; if fate allowed, I would have waited for Meerab my entire life. But I couldn't.
I was furious. How could she leave me after we consummated our marriage and became one in every sense?
I searched for her tirelessly and sent search parties, her posters still hung. The newspapers carried her photos, labelling her as missing. I wished she could talk to me, explain why she fled. I was devastated. I loved Meerab with every fibre of my being, but Meerab remained distant. She never shared her heart with me.
I sighed and uttered the words that finalized my second wedding, "قبول ہے".
There was no joy, no hope-just a lost man behind these deep brown eyes. I was staring at my feet when people began congratulating each other, sharing sweets, and embracing. My sister Maryam didn't show up; she had sworn never to return to this mansion if I married Haya. And she stayed true to her word. Her animosity toward Haya burned like molten lava. Maa Begum forgave Haya, and I tried to as well. But Maryam despised Haya vehemently; she still insisted on searching for Meerab.
However, Maa Begum's patience wore thin; she grew frail. Anwar was fading away, grieving for his lost daughter, blaming himself for everything. The sorrow and anguish in the house turned it into a haunting place. I felt her presence everywhere. As I closed and opened my eyes, I saw her standing before me, just like in my dreams. Initially, I thought it was part of my reverie until everyone fell silent.
It was her-Meerab had returned...
But she was a little too late.
Lost in the chasm of time, I stood amidst the fervour of my nikkah, my gaze fixated upon Meerab-a vision etched in sorrow amid the celebration Her presence shattered the fragile veneer of my newfound reality, reigniting a tempest of emotions within me.
As she stood there, a silhouette against the backdrop of jubilation, her eyes-once the gateway to my very soul-now mirrored a tale of unfathomable sadness and silent lament. The weight of her absence had etched its marks upon her countenance, bearing witness to the story of her unforeseen departure.
My eyes met hers, those pools of deep brown, holding within them the untold tales of a journey we had embarked upon together, now suspended in a liminal space. In that fleeting moment, time stood still, a silent conversation transpiring between our intertwined gazes.
The child nestled in her arms-the embodiment of the years I spent yearning for her presence-stirred an inexplicable ache within me. A daughter, a symbol of a life I had missed experiencing-a poignant testament to the void left by her absence.
Conflicting emotions surged within me, a tumultuous collision of hope, resentment, longing, and the lingering echoes of love. Meerab's return, albeit delayed, was an upheaval-a resurgence of emotions I had sought to bury beneath the facade of acceptance.
The verses of Rumi, once a solace in moments of despair, echoed within the chambers of my heart: "Be foolishly in love, because love is all there is." Those words intertwined with the stark reality of our reunion, a tangled web of emotions entwined with the unsaid and the unspoken.
In that hushed chamber, amidst the resounding cheer, an unspoken understanding lingered between us, an invisible thread connecting our souls. Yet, within the tumult of festivities, the air remained heavy with unanswered questions and the burden of unspoken confessions.
As I gazed into her beautiful, sorrow-laden eyes, I found myself entangled in a silent dance of emotions, grappling with the overwhelming tide of what-ifs and the haunting specter of the unspoken truths that hung between us.
