Sadqay Tumhare

9.

"And this beauty is bijli because she is so fast."

His eyes shone with a certain happiness and appreciation, clearly he loved horses.

"Now don't underestimate this white beauty, she is called Maina, she is my favourite."

"You love them."

"Ofcourse, I do. Horses are so much more understanding, they understand our emotions so well."

He looked at the white horse, smiling at it and rubbing his hand all across it's white skin. It seemed like he knew everything about these beings.

"You spend alot of time here?" I questioned, merely out of curiosity.

"Yes, mostly."

He nodded, gesturing a man to bring forth riding shoes and helmets.

"I have alot of parties at the farm, too. I'll throw you and bhai one as well. Once he's back tomorrow."

Yes, Zaydaan was coming back tomorrow. I was both nervous and excited for his return, but nervous for the most part.

After all, we hadn't talked a bit ever since he left.

"Yeah," I mumbled but Ahad didn't understand my glum tone.

"Finally, yes? Did you hear him speak at the conference?"

I didn't.

I couldn't bear to watch the television, it felt too weird for me. Seeing your own self, seeing the man who slept by your side, seeing the woman you had evening tea with, seeing all of them on the television screen, it felt too different. Not watching the television was working pretty well for me.

"No.." I answered. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"No? It was all around the house, you know that."

"I might have been sleeping, Ahad. I don't know." I tried to come up with an excuse.

He rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, want me to impersonate him?" Since I wanted to see his acting skills, I nodded.

"Okay,"

"So he's in this black suit, right? Eyes cold and icy, and he goes like,"

And then his demeanour changed. I realised that acting was not just his passion but he was good at it too.

His eyes turned indifferent, no tinge of playfulness or amusement in them, his face hardened as he started to speak.

"People often ask me, even journalists back home, they question me why I am so dedicated in my politics, why I do not sit at home and let my father do his job, why am I going on tours and why am I attending all these conferences, why am I trying to present an image with so much passion, especially when I am one of the most targeted men in my country."

I could barely register his words. What?

"Wait what? Targeted?" I asked him.

Ahad looked at me like I was stupid, like I was still living in a bubble of my own.

"Aaina, he's son of the Prime Minister, he's a foreign minister himself, he criticizes the ex governments without any fear, he has helped people of low class get their justice and made some real fucking assholes his enemies, of course his life is at stake all the time."

He rambled on and on, angry that I had managed to break his character. I bit my lip, intimidated.

"Even I'm at threat, and you too."