Life was never simple for Jahanara.
The loud music boomed across the marriage hall accommodating at least dozens of their relatives which were strangers. The ground shook with the thuds of moving feet. Their hands mingled shamelessly swaying hips with the beat and money bills showering like there was no tomorrow.
They hung out not caring about the basic rules of Islam. Jahanara may not be the most practising being on this earth but she knew better. Not mixing with opposite gender's. Here there are no basic human rights and if we start preaching religion.
That's a whole different story.
Her Grey eyes that had a bluish hue of sunlight scowled back. Those eyes roamed lustfully over her body compelling her to feel naked despite being covered but that wasn't enough to ignore the burning sensation around her waist.
"Amir beta come join us," Her so-called foster father wailed, pulling him roughly. A deep sigh left her lips while she glanced at her phone screen.
'Just a few minutes till the nikkah takes place' she thought. The grip on her clutch tightened when her foster mother and her daughter took hold of her dragging her down the stage.
But that was just the outset of her freedom.
They passed a few rooms before entering her room pushing the door and dropping her on the stool.
"Make sure she looks beautiful. We don't want her ugly face to scare the poor boy away and worst cancel the wedding," Replenished with disgust her mother ranted.
Jahanara rolled her eyes.
"Go Ammi," stated Mahnoor waving her hand dismissing the beautician telling her to come in after five minutes. Mahnoor's face broke into a small smile kneeling beside her elder sister.
"Are you okay?" She asked and rested her hands on her giving a squeeze. Jahanara exhaled and nodded with a tender look that was only reserved for her pagli.
"You got this, don't forget me," her honey brown eyes glazed with unspoken tears making Jahanara's heart clench at the thought of leaving her here. Mahnoor sniffed, standing up and grabbing her into a hug.
Their last hug.
"Pagli don't cry," whispered Jahanara, stroking her jet black hair which cascaded till her waist. She remembered her first time holding noor in between her arms. Her doe eyes staring at her in curiosity while her little fingers wrapped around Jahanara. It did not matter that they weren't blood-related but it's the only good thing about her pathetic life.
The couple who adopted her very abusers of power and honour. Nothing good can be associated with them.
Mahnoor gave a last look before shutting the door behind her entered the beautician who envied her porcelain skin and facial features. To say Jahanara is beautiful would be an understatement. But no one knew behind this beautiful face what horrible mysteries were hidden.
"Congratulations on the marriage. May you live a happy life," said the middle age lady clasping her makeup kit shut. She could easily see through the facade as time passed its a skill she grasped and was very proud of it.
"Truth is far better than lying," Jahanara's statement made the lady flinch dropping her brush. It was the first time in the whole day she wasted her breath. But one thing Jahan despised.
Liars.
The wait was over when she stood up removing the heavy dupatta that almost gave her a cramp in her neck. Her hands roamed behind the mirror yanking the small device throwing it on the bed. Under the small coffee table behind the headboard.
"Assholes," she cursed under her breath, very well familiar with these bug devices and threw a glass of water razing it.
She collected all her electronics throwing them out of the window so they could be broken and destroyed once and for all.
Her lehenga choli which cost Allah Knows how much was thrown aside. As she removed a spare Shalwar and kameez jerked it to see if anything suspicious was attached to it.
The abrupt sound of bullets made her grounded in her position as her eyes widened with only one thing lingering in her mind. Mahnoor took her only that name to pull the pistol from her drawer.
"Please noor stay safe," she mumbled, exiting the room. The screams and shouts got louder and its the second time she faced this situation.
She ran towards the hall to see dead bodies over each other soaked in a pot of blood. Jahanara's heart was whacking against her chest. Sweat dribbled on her forehead. She couldn't lose the only person that meant so much to her.
That's until her eyes landed on a familiar yellow dress and a white embroidered dupatta enveloped her body which had stains of red colour. Jahanara sneaked and ran towards the body which was thankfully guarded by the round table.
Her hand hovered above the face removing the veil to see her eyes closed, her breath hitched as she pulled her head on her thigh.
"Noor," she patted her cheek, shaking the blood trickling from her stomach. Her bloodshot eyes stared in her sisters raising her hand in the air. Jahanara did not take a second and wrapped it in a heartbeat.
"No no stay with me," she whispered, peeling off her dupatta and pressing it on her wounded area.
"Jah listen to me," Mahnoor coughed, making Jahanara's eyes moist but she wasn't going to give up. Life never taught her to give up.
But who could fight with death.
For once it's decided no one can do anything about it.
"You have to run and never come back," she groaned. Jahanara nodded absentmindedly not knowing what to do. Her hands which were covered in henna now had her sister's blood all over them. As if her brain has stopped functioning.
"I love you okay live for me," her hands pressed Jahanara's with the little ounce of energy left. In life, Jahanara had seen countless deaths mostly not related to her at all. The first one was the orphan boy who attempted suicide that stirred fear in her heart. The whole night she turned and tossed sleep was out of reach.
And the one she would never forget
"Catch her," A man with masks and rifles hung on their shoulders shouted, breaking her chain of thoughts. With one last look, her fingers dragged themselves across Mahnoors face, closing her eyes to the world and standing up swallowing the lump in her throat.
Jahanara Zahid never cried but now was an exception as she wiped the tear raising her hand with her finger pressed on the trigger at the men running in her direction.
"You're going to have to try harder," her lips turned into a sinister smirk launching the bullet into the man's heart and another shot into the man's head. But she knew better than to act like a superhero. This is no action movie. She has to run.
The cold air of Islamabad hit her making her lips tremble. Her dress half-covered with blood and her light brown hair was all over the place. The burning sensation had decreased a little but her vision blurred as she halted in between the road where the stillness of death lingered.
A soul, not present, wasn't something unusual to her. Her whole life she was deserted. The worst type when you have people but still you feel lonely. Her ears perked sensing someone increasing her pace.
Alone in a place like this is not a good idea.
Until Headlights blinded her eyes making her stop in her place. When the screeching sound of tires pained her ears. Thankfully the person driving stopped it on time as Jahanara looked up and placed her hands on the bonnet.
From this moment she knew how lucky she was and a spark of gratitude rested in her heart before turning into dust.
But when her eyes landed on someone or before she could comprehend her surroundings. Darkness welcomed her with open arms.
Meanings
Beta: In Urdu, it used for son but grown-ups use this term affectionately for males and females significantly younger than them.
Nikkah: In Islamic law, marriage - or more specifically, the marriage contract - is called nikah
Ammi: Mother
Pagli: Crazy, insane but in a sweet way.
Lehanga choli: A long skirt worn by women in South Asia that is often elaborately embroidered with beads, shisha mirrors, or other ornaments.
A/N: Thank you for reading means a lot! Let me know what you guys think until the next update. See ya!