Chaos in the Canvas √

12 | revelare

مسجد ڈھا دے مندر ڈھا دے ڈھا دے جو کچھ ڈھیندا
اِک بندے دا دل نہ ڈھاوِیں رَب دلاں وِچ رَیندا

- Bulleh Shah

Wednesday - 12:01pm

Hemayal resembled death.

Mehmal saw as colour left Hemayal's face in all its glory, her already pale face now resembling that of death, making Mehmal curse herself for bringing this topic up in the first place. She should have denied Taya Abbu in the first place when he asked her to bring Hemayal downstairs; she should not even have told Hemayal about Ibrahim's presence.

Hemayal's equation with Ibrahim never settled well with her, but nonetheless, she respected it. If Hemayal did not want to see that man, she had no right to force her. She had tried making a conversation with Hemayal on this particular topic numerous of times but the results have always been the same - none.

The incident of a few days ago when they had suddenly encountered Ibrahim in the restaurant was still fresh in Mehmal's mind. Hemayal had only seen a glimpse of him for a mere few seconds and she almost lost herself. Right now, he was sitting downstairs in their drawing room, along with his family who were expecting to see Hemayal any moment now - Hemayal's reaction was only justifiable.

"Please tell me I heard wrong." Hemayal whispered and what Mehmal witnessed in Hemayal's tone made her brows creased in confusion - dread and hatred.

"No, he really is downstairs, along with his father and brother." Mehmal said, surprised at the amount of dread that had dripped from Hemayal's words.

"I'm not coming." Hemayal said after a moment, voice more stern than she had ever heard and Mehmal's confusion only intensified.

"Hemayal, what's wrong?" She asked a question, hoping to get an answer out of Hemayal but even then, she had little hope.

The expressions that had come out of nowhere to reside on Hemayal's face frightened Mehmal - the stern edges of the eyes, the distasteful rise of eyebrows, the frown on the lips, the lines of displeasure on the forehead and the venom that laced her irises.

And, by Allah, at this moment, Mehmal suddenly feared Hemayal.

"Hami, you are worrying me, what's the matter?" Mehmal asked again after not having gotten an answer before, her eyes never leaving Hemayal's scarred face.

"Mehmal, I won't come downstairs." Hemayal stated without explaining herself, an action that was not much surprising on Hemayal's par who had always been a woman with little words.

"Hami, Taya Abbu asked me in front of them to call you downstairs. I can't go back and say that she refused to come." Mehmal explained her difficult position but the expressions on Hemayal's face showed that she hardly cared.

"Make an excuse or whatever, Mehmal, but I'm not coming." Hemayal shook her head forcefully, not even considering the proposition for even a second.

"For example?" She crossed her arms as she asked.

"Say that her foot is injured, she can't walk. And that is true so you won't even be lying. And look at my face, all scarred. What would I say to them when they ask about it?" Hemayal questioned as she shrugged her shoulders but Mehmal could see how desperate she was to not go downstairs.

Hemayal's reaction was beyond Mehmal's understanding. Yes, she never liked discussing Ibrahim, nor did she use to find any pleasure in the conversation when he was the subject but she never reacted this way. She always kept her calm, despite whatever Mehmal said. And this time, she had not even said anything and Hemayal's reaction was already harder than the strongest of ice.