Bleeding Rose

Chapter 1

The blazing sun was glaring down on them. The humid breeze had a hint of saltiness of the sea. In Karachi, the coastal city of Pakistan, Gul-e-Rana was sitting crossed legged on the dewy grass of the university campus.

The wisps of her raven black hair escaped her thick braid and were flirting with her face. Her lips curling in annoyance, she tucked the loose strand behind her ear as she took another bite of the potato stuffed samosa.

"He is looking this way again," Henna murmured as she slurped her cardamom chai.

Slowly, Gul-e-Rana placed the oil samosa on the paper plate and glanced at his direction.

Henna chuckled, "He looked away the moment you turned to him."

Nonchalantly shrugging, "I don't care," Gul-e-Rana wiped her mouth with the paper napkin and pushed the remnants of the samosa towards Henna, "Here finish this. I just remembered I didn't pray yet."

"But calories..."Henna mumbled as she reluctantly grasped the paper plate. She eyed the remaining samosa for few seconds then gobbled it up before the guilt kicked in.

Shaking her head in amusement, Gul-e-Rana smiled and made her way to the ladies prayer room in the campus building. The empty hallway was a relief. But she wasn't alone. Footsteps on the tiled floor echoed behind her. A shadow loomed over her. Fisting her dupatta to her chest, her hand pacifying her accelerating heartbeat, she whirled around ready to face her stalker but what she saw took her breath away.

The tall man with broad shoulders was only inches away from her. His honey gold eyes crinkled and his soft pink lips turned upwards. Never had she seen him this close. She could see his chiseled cheek bones and his rugged inky black beard framing his jawline. A lock of hair fell on his forehead as he tilted his face.

"Assalam u Alaikum Gul-e-Rana," he greeted in a deep baritone.

He knew her name!

Her eyes met his. Under his gaze, her insides melted and her heart fluttered. Her cheeks shaded in hues of red as the petals of a lustrous rose. "Walaikum salaam," her eyelashes fanned her cheeks.

"Dr. Shah informed me that you are interested in taking part in the Student Body." Sikander stance radiated of confidence. His broad shoulders and sheer height symbolled his strength. Her cheeks warmed seeing how well the formal blue and white checked shirt fitted him.

Her downcast eyes were roaming on the tiled floor. It was far better to admire the tiles than this man. "Yes, I am. Can we talk later? I was about to go for Asr (late afternoon prayer)".

"Of course," he curtly nodded, "Maybe if I can have your number I can text you for the next meeting?"

"Sure," she whispered.

In that hot summer afternoon was the start of their friendship.

Beginning of a beautiful relationship.

****

Jahangeer Khan ended the call as his wife Bushra set the wooden tray on the glass top table in the profusely and elegantly decorated living room.

She offered her husband the floral teacup and saucer. Pensively, gripping the saucer between his thumb and forefinger, he mused out loud, "Bhai sahib (elder brother) called."

She smiled politely, sitting across him on the luxurious fabric sofa.

"He has officially asked me for Gul-e-Rana's hand in marriage for his eldest son Dilawar."

Bushra's worrisome eyes searched her husband's, "She is still studying."

Faintly nodding, Jahangeer concluded, "I told him the nikkah (marriage ceremony) will be in six months."

Her hands shook, teacup clanked on top of the saucer. Tea dribbled on it. "You should at least ask Gul," she said in a hushed tone.

He equably sipped his tea, "Girls in our family are not asked. They are informed of their fate."

"But..." her voice was lost in her throat when her husband's eyes turned hard.

The matter was closed for discussion.

Fate was sealed.

****

Months had passed by in a bliss. With each passing day, distances were erased. Spending more and more time together. They never made the mistake of leaving the campus. It was their safe haven where they learned something new of each other. Last few weeks were left of the last semester. Soon Gul-e-Rana would complete her undergraduate studies and Sikander would complete his postgraduate degree.

Eating their lunch at the university canteen, they were lost in each other, ignorant of the students yelling at each other or the long queue in front of the cashier counter.

"I have spoken to my parents and they are happy to come with me to meet your parents," Sikander informed.

Gul-e-Rana pushed aside her chicken biryani plate and rested her forearms on the table top, "It's not that simple."

"Look Gul, I know I am not as rich as your family and nor am I from the same background as yours. But I am honest and I want to do this the right way. I want to name our relationship in the eyes of Allah and the society."

It was his words that always raced her heart. Oh, how she wished she could just abandon everything and run away with him.

Her eyes widened, that was it!

"Let's elope," she whispered, afraid someone would hear them.

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head slowly, "No definitely not. I want you to become my bride respectfully."

"It's impossible," she huffed.

"Nothing is impossible." His head tilted upwards, eyes wandering to the blue sky above them, "He will make it happen. I have full faith."

"You don't know my family," she tried to explain.

His hand touched the strong muscular wall of his chest, "Trust me."

"With my life," she said back.

Life was not to be trusted in anyone's hands. Especially those who were the closest...