Hasan
Fucking shit. What was I even thinking? I felt like a hypocrite to myself to be honest. And damn, I hadn’t ever felt this confused in my entire life.
Who was I even kidding when I told her to live just like friends - myself? - and expect nothing more - not that she would, I had initially thought. Not take the relationship seriously? What a joke! At times, whenever I wasn’t preoccupied with work, it was the only thing I could think about. God, the girl had everything I’d wanted in a life long partner, I’d have definitely wanted it to work had the bond between us been tied in normal circumstances, and if she was a bit older as well.
Infact, I think I might have introduced her to my room if she was, forced it might still have been for both of us, but at least she would have been old enough to get married, and would have been ready for what marriage entails. And if I hadn’t proceeded with the relationship then too, I think I’d have denied both of us the peace in life. But now, she still had years infront of her till she could be considered over age for marriage, and until then I’m quite sure her parents would learn the truth of her innocence, as she emphasized, and would make me divorce her. So the reservations as of then, didn’t really apply to the conditions of today. I had no excuse to go ahead with her, and I didn’t even want to because of how young she was. And yet sometimes, I felt my heart divert the other way.
The condition for living under the same roof that I proposed to her, was more for myself than I had meant it for her. Because then I didn’t think she could even want anything to do with the entire marriage fiasco. I was quite taken aback when I recognized the unease and the nervousness of her posture, and the anxious glint to her eyes when she pointed out the girls back at the ice-cream parlour, as if their gestures were highly reprehensible. I wasn’t a fool to not realize what she was leaning for, and it unsettled me if anything. No matter if one of the reservations in my list was unticked, my major issue was still her age and by the looks of it, Warda herself didn’t know the problems related to it. Apart from all that, there was another reason I couldn’t give her a go ahead.
Though all I could do to turn my back was to turn a little too cold for her liking, given that my kindness could be the only reason she was drawing towards me. Looks didn’t count, for women weren’t stupid enough to give in to men that only had good looks. What I achieved through this approach was for Warda to start believing that I wasn’t such a good husband material after all, and that she didn’t have to accept the relationship now that she was already tied and didn’t have anything to lose from it too.
What I hadn’t anticipated was for her to get all distraught because of it. As far as hating me and saying all that stuff she did was concerned - with calling me a bastard she did go overboard I believe and it did piss me off a little - it was expected, but to be miserable all over again, it just made me feel alot worse. Seemed like I really did take the only good thing in her life away from her. And it made me a bastard for doing that, but I believed I was doing her a benefit.
But as the muffled sounds of her sobs escaped through the door and reached me in the tv area, I couldn’t help the budding ache erupting in my head, not knowing what to do. I rarely smoked, scratch that, I only smoked when under a lot of stress and right now, it was the second cigarette in just half an hour that I was discarding in the ashtray. Ironic how I told Reeba all those years ago that a woman would never be one of my primary worries unless I was married - let alone a girl- and here I was today. A scoff escaped my lips as I reclined my back against the couch, and spread my legs up on the table. Whatever happened to my preferences anyway.
Seemed like Agha Jaan had once again managed to imprison me in a mess.
---
As much as I was adamant on not allowing anyone to skip one’s meals, since it didn’t undo the problems, I still didn’t make an effort to call her up for breakfast. While it would certainly make me look like a hypocrite all the more, I was sure this time round she wouldn’t succumb to my summons herself. Hence it was needless to even try.
I ate in silence, feeling the walls of solitude caving in on me once again and hence was in an internal battle of fighting it off, when Amir pulled me out of my reverie. I was already halfway through my breakfast so I acknowledged him and looked up. Amir never interrupted me while I was eating anyway, thus I could only wonder briefly what the matter could be before he spoke up.
“Agha, um, Bibi Jee is sleeping by the pool, on the cold floor, should I wake her up?”
And there came a surge of guilt and regret once again. I clenched my jaw. Was I really at the wrong and went a little too overboard? Fuck, I never really wanted to be a tyrant or a bully.
Was that really how I came off?
“Agha, the floor has to be cold, she might-”
“I heard you the first time, Amir.” I said through gritted teeth, glancing once in his way. “You don’t have to repeat it.”
Come to think of it, it wasn’t his fault, why was I even snapping at the poor guy?
“She could catch a cold, Agha.” He murmured.
“In that case, Amir, get her some medicine. For now, just let her be, don’t go about treading on her heels with food if she doesn’t want it. She needs to spend some time alone to reflect on her priorities, got it?”
“Jee, Agha.”
“Good.” With a nod of finality at him, I cut a slice of the boiled egg and took it to my mouth. Taking the cue, he turned, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.
---
Warda
My eyes fluttered open and the first thing that I felt course through my body was immense pain - throbbing in my lower body. And then shivers ran up my spine and I sat up, blinking in the sheer radiance of the day. With a groan I stood up to my feet, cursing the time of the month that had bestowed upon me unplanned. My hands were cold and sweaty at the same time, and judging by the dull hammering in my head, I knew I had caught fever. Everything all at once. I was so overwhelmed that for a moment I just stood there by the pool, taking in slow breaths as tears pricked my eyes. Swallowing in the lump in my throat, I turned and dragged myself to the room.
To make things worse, I soon realised that I did not have the supply of sanitary pads with me. But I also realised that the reason I felt all worked up and irritated and frustrated and agitated all at the same time was precisely because I was on the verge of getting on my stupid monthlies, and God this stupid cramps.
And I was so stupid I started crying again, that too while sitting on the stupid toilet seat. Who on earth cries like shit on a toilet seat?!
I was least bothered by the fact that stupid Agha Hasan didn’t care to call me for breakfast at the moment, because I was too fussed at trying to control the stupid, grossly hurting flow that there was nothing else I could think about. Periods were always the worst for me. If I had not been too preoccupied by him and his asshole of an attitude I’d have prepared for it beforehand so I didn’t have to go about shopping while hurting like shit.
Covering myself in the huge chadar of my Mama Jaan that she didn’t forget to keep in my suitcase, but forgot one thing that she apparently shouldn’t have, I walked out the main door, only to find out that he hadn’t sent the car back.
Fine. To hell with his car. Public transport zindabad.
I practically stormed to the gate, only to be stopped once again by the same stupid guard as of last night. I thought there were two of them taking shifts, but oh well, whatever.
“Where are you going, Baji?”
“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow as I regarded him with a menacing look. “And why do I have to tell you everything, oh liege lord?”
The poor man looked flustered, not that I gave a shit. “I’m sorry, Baji, but Agha told me not to let you out.”
“Oh for crying out loud, it’s not late night! Can’t you see the stupid sun and it’s glory?!” I cried out, incredulous of the excuse.
“I’m sorry, Baji, but-”
“You have to fucking kidding me!”
“Bibi Jee?”
I turned at the voice and found Amir coming towards us. “Agha specifically told me to not let you go out, he said you might want to leave the house, Bibi Jee.”
“Oh trust me, I’m not. I just need to go shopping.” I protested, more forcefully. The more I had to argue the more the drumming against my skull increased. Why couldn’t these braindead stupid men understand there could be some stuff a woman needs?
God, the sun was burning into my eyes.
“Agha said you could tell me, I will get it for you.”
“No you can’t, you won’t. I want to get it for myself, do you understand?”
“Bibi Jee-’
“Oh for heaven’s sake, please. Look I’m not feeling well, okay, I-”
“Do you have fever? I told Agha you could catch cold, don’t worry Bibi Jee we have medicines at home, I will-”
“Call him.” I cut him short, unable to take it anymore.
“Just call him, please. I don’t have his number.”
At the brief reluctance that he showed, I felt like kicking his ass. “He gets angry when I call him while he’s at work.”
“Don’t be a wimp. It’s not your fault he was born an angry troll.”
The poor man looked blanched at his boss’ sheer disrespect.
“Fine,” I heaved a sigh, getting a strong urge to drag my hand down my face. “Just tell me his number then.” Unlocking the phone his majesty himself got me, I opened the dial pad and pressed the digits Amir relayed. Once I pressed the call button, I took the screen to my ear and listened to the ringtone, and I started walking back to the house.
He picked up on the third try. I sure wasn’t one to give up.
“Hasan Abdullah speaking.”
“Of course it bloody is. I dialled your number, of course I’d know who could be speaking.”
There was a short pause, and then, “Warda?”
“Tell your minions to let me out.”
“And where do you want to go?”
“Shopping.”
“Make a list and give it to Amir, he-”
“I need to see a doctor too.”
“For?”
“I have fever.”
“Ask Amir, he will give you paracetamol.”
I ground my teeth, as wave after wave of impatience drowned me in.
“Is that it?” He asked when I didn’t respond for some dragged seconds.
“I need to go shopping.” I repeated.
“Well, Warda, I told you Amir will get anything, you just-”
“No, he can’t, okay? He can’t get it for me. I have to get it for myself, and I have to get it now!” I hurled the cushion away in a burst of agitation as I dropped down onto the couch in the tv area.
There was a long pause on the other side, and just as I began to wonder if he’d hung up, I heard his voice. “I think I know what you need.”
And then he hung up.
What? So he knew what I needed, but then? What? Was it going to materialize out of thin air?
God, why was everything so difficult?
Dropping my head onto my palms, I took deep breaths to calm myself down. Tears began to pool in my eyes, and I thought of the burning embarrassment I’d feel when Amir would hand me over the woman stuff he’d get. Why couldn’t that stupid Agha Hasan just let me out? I wasn’t going to run from his darn house. Fine I was taken over by emotions last night, but I still had enough sense in me to know I had nowhere else to go, and to run to the streets was worse than dying.
I got up from there and plodded back to the room where I plopped down on the edge of the bed, the chadar still hanging around me - though not before my eyes caught the burnt cigarette butts on the ashtray kept on the center table, something that I had never seen even once in all the days I’d been in this house.
And then I was stupid enough to cry once again.
---
It wasn’t long though, could be an hour or a half more when the knock on the door came. Although I was expecting it a lot sooner, since I was sure getting just one thing from the market couldn’t take that long, when the door subsequently opened before I could so much as move a muscle to get up and answer it, I was rendered surprised. Because it was his majesty himself. Oh why did he bother, I couldn’t help but wonder.
Oh. That rhymed. I like rhymes.
I gave him a bland look as he took a step into the room, dressed impeccably in a suit, like he usually was, and placed a stuffed shopping bag on the dressing table on his left. As my gaze flicked between the bag to him, I felt my cheeks get warm. I imagined him going to a mart and buying it for me, and I felt my ears burn too. “That’s the stuff you needed. Did you take the paracetamol?”
I dropped my gaze. I was still sitting in the exact same position as I was an hour earlier - the chadar still clung to my body. “No.”
“I’ll tell Amir.”
I wondered if the fight hadn’t happened, would he still have been as detached as he was, or would he have cared a bit more that I was sick?
“I’m sorry, Warda, I can’t let you go out of the house for a couple of days. The guard told me you wanted to leave last night, and-”
“You left no reason for me not to.” I said quietly, as I stole a glance in his direction from the corner of my eyes, and found him standing by the door, but inside my room, with his hands shoved in his pants pockets.
“Right. We’ll talk about it when you get better.”
“No, I don’t want to talk about anything with you anymore.” I felt the anger and bitterness from last night surge back into my heart.
“Well, regardless of what you said about me earlier, you left the door to your room unlocked, so I’ll declare you a bluff.” My eyes went wide as I realised that I really did. “People don’t usually mean what they blurt out in anger. We will talk again, civilly this time, when you’d no longer be feisty, dare I say. Because I believe we need to sort some things out. I also understand your behaviour of last night now, so I’m letting it slide.” He added after a pause when I didn’t respond and kept staring at the floor instead, my cheeks aflame. “Need anything else?”
I shook my head, mentally still stuck on his short speech.
“Let me know if you do. I’ll see you at night.” He said and turned to walk out of the room, and closed the door on his way out.
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A/n: okay, this has to be the longest chapter I've written so far, lol. Enjoy, if you must, and don't forget to vote ;)