" What do you mean, doctor?" I asked.
My heart dropping, putting piece to piece together.
" Yes, Jahangir Ali Khan-" tension was coiling around my pulse.
" your wife has a mental condition in which she wants to attempt chances of suicide more than...
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Hai aankhon me kamal uske,
Jab kalaam karte hain tou dil dharakte hain.
Saboohi
The door opened and Abbas stared at us with wide eyes before a grin made its way to his lips. His little eyes lighting up at the sight of us.
" Saboohi aapa is here."
He yelled before running inside. My heart slammed against my ribcage hearing the shuffling and shifting going on from inside. Jahan's fingers intertwined with mine as he took a step forward, practically dragging me through the door. My breathing picked up as we stepped in the large front room seeing various eyes now scrutinize us. I flickered my eyes up to see the family that had now gathered in the room. First I saw my uncle with the missing tooth, besides him was his wife with her eyes and mouth wide and with them stood their teenage children. Next was my aunty with her husband, from Islamabad, moma's only sister and the only person I liked in the family. Next were my elder cousins and lastly the lady I recognised lived in our neighborhood and was a dear friend of Moma. And then was Abbas who grinned at us.
My throat turned hollow, seeing so many faces but not one was my papa. I almost turned around to leave but Jahan's warm greeting halted me and then the room erupted into shuffling again as everyone greeted and welcomed us in. My eyes didn't move from Jahan as he shook hands with my uncles and then with my cousins. Making me wonder how he managed to look so composed and confident all the time. His aura, God, it was magic. It was so powerful and dominant, the kind of dominant that made you follow him without him even imposing it. Sophisticated and manly-
" Stare at me when we get home, your aunties demand your attention!"
" Huh!"
I breathed out blankly seeing the man hiss before he turned his eyes to the aunties that stared at us. I uncurled my fingers from around his. As he beckoned me with his powerful eyes and I walked from around him to my waiting aunties.
" You were gone for so long, where did you go?"
" What happened to your hand?"
" Why do you have the bandage?"
I remained tongue tied to answer them as they mustered all other questions my way. My eyes moved to the couch where I'd sit with papa and he'd tell me stories of my childhood. Stories of the childhood that was half wiped out from my memory. And I'd always be so impatient to know what I used to do when I was little and papa would patiently sit for hours and tell me stories that I never believed and at the end of the day, he would have tears in his eyes as he'd embrace me.
I still could not believe he was no more. He was such a big part of my distorted life. He was always there to hold me, to support me and push me back up so that I lived just a little longer to see his black hair turn into grey. And now that I looked at Jahan, I knew why papa wanted me to stay longer. He knew that there was someone waiting to show me how beautiful and quizzical this life was at the same time. And for this, I'd be grateful till the lasts of my breaths.
