"Ammi, look. Uncle Hamza wrote a poem for me." Bushra got my attention when I was serving our guests.
I quirked my brows at him. He winked at her and she giggled.
"That's fascinating. I'm sure that Uncle Hamza would have no problem in entertaining us with his poetry reading. I would love to hear what he wrote for you." I placed the tray on the table.
"I.." He hesitated.
"What happened? Isn't it original enough?" I asked, teasing him.
He cleared his throat, "Judgemental, aren't you?"
"No. Please go ahead." I raised my hands in defense.
He closed his eyes.
"I met a girl with a sweet face. It was on one of those busy days.
Our silence had enveloped both of us in a shell.
We were two strangers who didn't know each other so well.
Her eyes held confusion, her lips were pursed.
It took us some time to get along and well versed.
Gone were the momentary awkwardness and gawking.
We weren't aware when we had actually begun talking.
The more we conversed, From it I realised.
If there's anything pure in this world then that is your laughter.
It could make anyone's day exuberant and alot more brighter.
It's as sweet as that twinkling in your eyes.
With your lips stretched upwardly in that adorable and lovely smile.
Even when your kindness and compassion was all you gave.
I wanted nothing except for your presence which I now desperately crave.
I have already missed your existence from the last few years.
Let's start this friendship with only joy and without any tears." His melodious voice had us all enthralled.
When he finished his recitation, his orbs met mine.
I couldn't help but smile.
Everybody applauded including Bushra. The happiness on her face had my heart.
I clapped too while mouthing a quick thank you.
Lastly, everybody called it a night except for Nida, Chhavi, Gaurav and Hamza.
They stayed back to help us tidy the place.
"I don't want to pry but who is this guy?" Chhavi whispered while we were cleaning the dishes.
"He's a friend from my hometown Adilabad." I told her.
She nodded, "He's very handsome." She winked at me.
I cocked my eyebrows at her.
What was she playing at?
"Don't get me wrong. I love my husband alot and no man can replace him but that man is..." She eyed Hamza who was looking after Gaurav and Bushra, "He's package and I saw the way he looks at you." She paused.
I gaped at her in disbelief.
"I'm married." I reminded her, "And you probably misread things. We're friends and we respect each other." I admonished her.
She fell silent for a moment but eventually reached out to me, "Rabia, I'm sorry. I was just saying what I felt. Maybe I'm wrong but I didn't mean any harm. Our friendship is really important to me too. Please forgive me. It's just that I saw a different Rabia tonight. A happy Rabia but I agree, it's wrong to think like that. Forgive me." She apologized, squeezing my hand.
"I know and it's okay Chhavi but I can't think of any man let alone Hamza no matter how great he is. My priority is my daughter and her good upbringing only." I said and she nodded.
We cleared all the mess quickly before it got too late.
"You look exhausted." Hamza told me once Nida and Chhavi had taken their leave.
"I am but so are you."
He smiled, "I had a great time today."
"Me too. I loved your poetry." I complimented.
He shrugged, "I know it was terrible."
"No. On the contrary, it was the most beautiful thing I heard. I underestimated you." I said the truth and he chuckled before seeing his watch.
"I must go now."
"Let me guess. You have a flight to catch."
"No. I'm here to stay. In Lucknow." He mumbled.
"Really?"
"Atleast till I'm required. My company is expanding all over India. There's some work to be done here."
"That's great! Tell me if you need any help." I told him.
"I would definitely."
"I must leave now. Take care. Allah hafiz Rabia."
"You too. Allah hafiz."
I closed the door and peered at Bushra who had fallen asleep on the couch.
I picked her up and carried her to our bedroom.
Normally I would always ask from Allah when I offered Namaz but today, I had forgotten all my woes and worries.
As I prayed to the almighty, I thanked him for my daughter, my friends and for a day like today.
While I was placing my prayer mat on the top shelf, my eyes landed on the package that Hamza had gifted me earlier.
I carefully unwrapped it without making any noise as my daughter was asleep.
It was a diary.
A customised diary with my name on it?
I flipped the first page. It had our pictures. From Iqra's birthday.
I had totally forgotten about it.
We were all smiles in that photographs.
The memories of that day flooded my brain. My whole life turned around in three sixty degree.
I shook my head, flipping another page.
It had a something written very beautifully.
Having a diary is just taking out the labyrinth of your messed up life and pouring about it here.
It'll help you on one of those days when you really need to sort your thoughts. It's like a friend who'd take all out from you without judging you. I hope you treasure it.
This is fate that we met again. A friend like Hamza is hard to find. Even after all these years, he didn't change. He's as humble as he was, way back then.
I smiled as I read the paragraph again.
A loud bang on the door caught my attention, my eyes immediately drifted to the wall clock.
It was almost midnight.
Covering my head, I asked from the other side.
"Who is it?"
"Just open the damn door!" It was Aslam.
I quickly unlatched the door and opened it to meet his eyes.
It was bloodshot red.
I gulped.
I couldn't have imagined what had been going on.
His breath reeked. I covered my nose.
I retreated my steps as he entered the house.
I sensed something was wrong from the moment I looked at him.
His hand struck my face and I fell on the ground, wincing in pain.
"Because of you... You wretched woman. From the time I married you, you brought nothing but bad omen to my life. I lost my job, my money, my house, my health. On top of it, you ... You couldn't do one thing... One thing that I wanted from you. A son." He shouted, slurring on some of his own words.
What happened now? I couldn't take the time to decipher.
My cheeks hurt yet I stared back.
"That's not something that I can control." I hissed at him.
He kicked me before regaining his balance, "Shut up! You've no idea how embarrassed I was when those young lads boasted about their sons. And here, what did I get? A girl! A liability." He scoffed.
Tears pooled my eyes, "Bushra is our daughter. What kind of a father are you?"
"I'm not her father. I bet if she's even mine. Ain't I? Tell me whore, Is she mine?" His words were more agonizing than his actions.
I shut my eyes, thinking it as a nightmare that I desperately wanted to wake from.
I have had enough.
"I wish she wasn't yours to call but sadly you're her father who doesn't deserve her respect or love. Yes, you're right. It's my bad kismet that I got married to you and has been nothing but faithful to you." I spat, finally freeing the huge burden off my chest.
If looks could kill, I knew I was going to be dead by now but I didn't care.
He had ruined everything including this day which had been the best till he returned.
Suddenly, I heard someone cry.
It was my daughter.
I remembered what I had heard from Nida earlier.
I can't let Bushra know any of this.
Without even sparing a glance at him, I rushed back to the room.
I quickly closed the door and reached out to hug my daughter who was shaking in the bed.
"Ammi! Ammi!" She sniffled.
I embraced her tightly.
"Shush! Everything's fine. I'm here..." She relaxed as I nuzzled her hair.
I've to do something. I can't let this continue for long.
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Hello everyone.
There are a lot of things happening in my life right now which is why I'm not quick with the updates. Please bear with me.
I hope you liked the chapter.
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Thank you.
Until next time
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