Ishq

1

Zainab

I took in a deep breath of the clean village air.

The small coastal village was a one of a kind resort town. A palace to luxuriate in, with restaurants and cafés that served world-class food.

I got out of the Uber, watching it drive away. The village was pretty much a one way street surrounded by a verdant native forest and the foaming sea. The summer house was right beside the sea, the long stretch of the beach sloping into the water. A serene private property, the beach was littered with dense foliage and tall trees. A tropical paradise.

"Hurry up Zainab!"

"Coming... uff, these shoes!" I cried out just as the black strap came undone and I almost toppled on to the asphalt.

Thank God this hadn't happened in the mall.

My canvas espadrilles were just not supportive enough for the rugged environment, the wedges dwaddling on the stony surface.

"My arms are getting tired, Zainab!" Aleena complained from the doorway. "Hurry up!"

I threw a pleading glance her way, trying to take off my shoe. My fingers couldn't manage to untangle the strings of the espadrilles.

Stupid fashion.

Trying to hop and balance my weight, I squeaked out loud when a pair of rough calloused hands replaced mine, brushing my ankles, helping me untangle the strings. I braced myself by leaning on the strong shoulder, transferring my weight onto my right arm.

"Stay still," he muttered.

"You try standing on one foot," I shot back.

Finally, after a lot of shifting and mumbled curses, we managed to work both shoes off my feet.

I sighed unclenching my toes, wincing at the small popping noises, straightening to meet stormy grey eyes, which were currently filled with an odd mixture of anger and curiosity.

"Why would you wear these shoes to go out shopping?"

My mouth widened into my biggest and brightest smile. "Because I like them." Asad rolled his eyes. I inched away from him, ignoring the light flutter in my stomach. He stared at me, his mouth turning into a slight smirk.

"Also, they make my legs look longer," I shouted, running up to help Aleena , trying to keep my annoyance level in check.

Unwelcome heat bloomed in my cheeks. Why was he here early? Why was he here period?

Asad followed me to the house, walking up the narrow pebbled drive surrounded by the dark green of native ferns and trees, his steps unhurried and precise.

Always in control.

Aleena stood in the kitchen, shuffling through the cabinets. I twirled in, watching the gauzy curtains by the open kitchen doors fluttering with the soft sea breeze. The scent of the morning rain hung in the heavy atmosphere.

The house would soon be filling up with close relatives and family friends. Gulping down a glass of water, my eyes ran over the living room. Thank God, Shameema had come in and spruced this place up and we weren't greeted by dust-ridden rooms with musty furniture covered by moth-eaten sheets. Cobwebs had been removed from the ceiling, the electricity and boiler connections reinstalled.

We moved around, placing the cake in the refrigerator and taking out the gold and green decoration, planning for Baba's 60th birthday bash.

"Weren't you busy writing another novel?" Aleena asked, placing the stack of paper plates on the counter.

"A screenplay actually," he answered, picking up an apple. I glared at him.

"Don't you have fruit at your house?"

"Your father wanted me here Zainab."

"Yes, we're all aware of his questionable decisions."

"Zainab," Aleena chided, her face shocked and tired from our bickering. He blinked, his eyes empty of any discernable emotion. "Tell us more about this screenplay, what is it about?"

Torture probably, I thought, grabbing the ribbons and sticking them on to the table.

"Ishq," A surprise laugh bubbled out of me. Even Aleena looked shocked.

"Ishq?"

"Yes, Ishq. They want me to write about passion and blah blah"

"And blah blah," I repeated.

"I'm very happy that you're amused by my conundrum."

I pressed my lips together. "It's... an unusual problem."

"How far along are you?"

"Not far enough. I've only written a page." Our eyes widened. Asad, behind and not on schedule? "I can't understand this! What is Ishq anyway? It's just a bunch of poetic nonsense."

"Say's the man who writes fiction for a living."

He crossed his arms, leaning against the table. "Thriller, mystery, things with logic!"

Pity swept through me. It wasn't his fault. I couldn't expect a Robot to know what Ishq was."Ishq doesn't have logic."

"Apparently. That's what I've been told."

Aleena jumped into the conversation, trying to be the pacifist, excitement radiating off her face. "Just write a love story."

"How?"

"Boy meets girl, their eyes connect and they fall madly in love."

His lips twisted in a wry smile. "Sounds so generic."

"That's not Ishq," I countered, playing with the tape on my fingers, looking outside. Black-edged clouds gathered in one giant mass.

His eyes narrowed on me. "Then what is?"

I racked my brain for words, trying to find inspiration. Trying to find the words to describe what I thought Ishq was. Wind sprung up as if someone had flicked a switch, whipping the calm sea into choppy whitecaps.

"Ishq is..." A rumble of deep, disturbing thunder echoed in the distance.

A single droplet of rain fell onto the grass.

Perfect.