"If you let fear rule you all your life,
You will be daunted by more and more things,
To the point, you can't do anything"
𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗♞𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗
One thing was for sure, selfish people didn't leave you alone. Once they have gotten a taste of you, they will come back, again and again, to get that exquisite flavor left. And oh god! If they were pain and demons, you can close your eyes and bet that they will barge in again.
A pattern was forming in the lives of the Khans, Ahmeds, and Sikanders. They all were being linked, once again, and now the evil was coming back. However, as one said, to beat evil, you need to embrace the darkness. That time it was a losing battle, but this time around war was going to rage. Things changed, people changed and so did that luck favoring the sides.
With little to no sleep, Rabail was looking out at the wide lawn of Khan Durbar. The soft light from the table lamp added more to the mysteries that were unspooling itself in that room and her mind. Her gaze was steady, yet she knew not what she was searching for. She pushed emotions back a long long time back. Too long that it feels miles away from where she could reach out. Her family was her life. Her Jaan. She could not, dare say would not lose it all again.
The laptop screen from the back seemed to be glaring at her. Her head was still buzzing with the notions of Sikanders and elections. What if things went south? Would the damage be greater this time? Would it mean losing Aadhilabad?
Sighing deeply, her neck turned to view the paused screen. She has seen the videos on a repeat, every single second, in fact. Yet, nothing was at hand. It would be good news as things were going normal, but Rabail knows better. Normalcy in her life is pretty much nonexistent since that fateful night.
Her hazel eyes were stuck on the screen, hands too lazy to move to play the frozen screen. Slowly, she trailed her eyes with laze on the pixels. A car was there, Sohaib getting out of it, the servants gushing to greet their masters. It was the picture of Sohaib returning from Lahore. Apparently, he was out for three days to build up his campaign image by interacting with prominent businessmen. 'Image' Rabail scoffed at the thought. 'More like propaganda'. The trunk was open with three large pieces of luggage being pulled out. With the hand placements of lifting it looked as if they were heavy. The inside of the car was dark. The driver didn't get out or assist in any way.
And with nothing at hand, Rabail closed the screen as her eyes screamed for sleep. Grabbing her purse and files, she dragged her feet out of her office with whatever energy was left. Passing the doorman her Salaam, she weaved through the magnanimous hallway. Muffled sounds of crickets could be picked up from the lawnside on her right. As she walked, her shadow kissed the walls, paintings, decors, and magnificence on her left.
Maybe it was her tired brain playing the tricks that she was still thinking of Sohaib Sikander and luggage.
'Like who takes three huge luggage for three-day trips, is he a star or something?' Eye-rolling to that, Rabail was close to descending down the stairs to reach her car.
'Even with me being this tired, it is hard to carry this purse and he takes three luggage. Wow!'
"Salaam, Khanum". Her trail of rants stops as Salman, her trusted driver greets her. It could be said Salman has been part of the family, being Nazzakat Chacha's grandson, he grew up in the Haveli.
"Salaam, Salman." Slumping back on her seat, Rabail answered with a yawn.
"Bibi Jaan, aap ko toh Dadi Jaan ki maar paregi kaal." chuckling at the state of Rabail, he informed of the impending doom.
(Bibi Jaan, you are going to get a beating from Dadi Jaan.)
"Kyu?"
(Why?)
"Pehle toh aap itni der se ghar jati hein, toh Dadi Jaan ne toh aaj kasam khayithi ke aapko sabak sikha sake. Bechari wait karte karte, khud hein sogayi."
(Firstly, you go home so late, and Dadi Jaan was hell-bent to give you an earful. But poor her, she fell asleep while waiting.)
A spill of chuckles rippled through the car as both laughed at the antics of Dadi Jaan. The woman was strict, yet such a softie at times.
"Well, well. Thanks for the heads-up."
"Koi baat nahi, Bibi Jaan."
(No issue, Bibi Jaan.)
The guards saluted as they approached the fort's main gates before opening the fort's tall gates. She tilted her head as she looked out the tinted glass. The night was gleaming. She trailed along the lanes of her childhood, counting the stars. Things were much simpler back then. Things were better back then. As her memories began to awaken her senses, she let out a sign. The few guards stationed there pushed the gates slowly.
"Do they always salute before opening the door?"
Having an incredulous look, Salman answer, "It is rather an unspoken rule for anyone serving. Greeting their Huzuur. Obviously, you have to greet them when you meet them, you also have to be sure to bid them goodbye as well. Furthermore, for us drivers, we need to get out of the car and stand till we see our masters into the house or somewhere else."
Something clicked
"All the time?" she delved as her mind was suddenly getting a bit clearer.
"Huh?" Salman had his eyes fixed on the guards who were dragging their feet to open the doors. It took time to open the gate, so generally, they were notified earlier by a system whenever someone were to pass through. However, they couldn't say when the Khanum would leave, hence the delay.
"The greeting?" she repeated with her back straighter this time.
"Oh yes! A must." responded Salman. He had no clue why suddenly his Bibi Jaan was so stuck on the etiquettes. 'Must be the sleep.' he thought.
"So is it just our drivers or for all?"
"It is in fact for all. Especially for any noble lineage or higher stature, you must wait till they enter. Now that you are asking, there is even an incident about this."
"About what?" She had an instinct, things were starting to fall in places.
"One day, Selim was driving Shohaib Sahib to his party office. So, you know how the atmosphere is there, right? Saab log yaha waha toh Selim koh jagai nehi mili ke woh ghari seh bahir nikhle aur Salaam de. And that was it. Before he could even grab to open his door, someone pulled him out and dragged him to the feet of Sohaib Sahib. Started saying he was disrespecting the order and decorum. And Sohaib Sahib snapped for him it was close to disrespecting him. Kicked him out, broke his limbs, and forced his entire family to beg at his feet. A ruthless creature that man. Only knows about himself. Koi farak nahi parta logo ki. Farak parta hein toh sirf or sift aapni shaan aur- Areh, Bibi Jaan!"
(Everyone is running here and there, so Selim had no place to even stand out from the car)
(He doesn't care about anyone. Only has his head filled with himself and his prodigiousness- Hey, Bibi Jaan!)
While the trails of Salman's rants paused, he saw Rabail rushing out of the car back to the Khan Durbar. Facepalming himself, he thought 'Maar toh tujhe bhi paregi, Salman!'
(Even you are gonna have a share of that beating, Salman!)
Reaching the corridors of her office, Rabail was heaving. The adrenaline in her cooled off a bit as she entered her place and again opened her laptop. Her phone started ringing, seeing the caller ID, she picked it up without a delay.
"I am an idiot."
The caller was surely amused at his niece's greetings.
"Sometimes you can be." he jeered as he took his steps to his car. For all that matters, he was back at home. A week in London and he found thousands of intel. Some tracing back to three years back caught his attention and alerted his army senses as well.
"I know right! So why would someone like Sohaib not beat the crap of his driver who didn't get out to greet him? The Sohaib Sikander who loves himself and his taj." She muttered as her fingers worked to pause the video on that particular scene.
"Your point?" Ismail questioned as he knew they did find something in this darkness.
"Either he didn't notice or he ordered him to stay in." Proposing two of her opinions, Rabail waited to hear her Chachu.
"Former is highly unlikely. As twisted as he is, he is observant." Ismail drawled out as his eyes greeted the similar landscapes of Pakistan.
"But why would he, right?" probed Rabail as he tried to zoom into the car.
"Maybe to take out luggage?" offered Ismail.
"Nope. Someone is on to that part." dismissing the suggestion, Rabail worked out to make the zoomed picture sharper.
The silence was in between the call as they both thought out all the possibilities.
"What if someone was inside?" hammering the nail, Ismail murmured.
And things were clearer. Clearer zoomed image, a clear shadow in the rear mirror, a blurry small figure hunched. The mystery cleared out.
"Could you look into the flight details of every plane at Lahore that might have connections to Sohaib, Chachu?"
"Hukum, Khanum." Ismail voiced, as trails of smiles embraced both his and Rabail's face.
(Sure thing, Khanum.)
Ending the call, he stared at the serenity outside. Serenity before the storm.
𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗♞𝄗𝄗𝄗𝄗
Glossary:
i. Jaan: Life (literal meaning)
ii. Salam: Muslim greetings
iii. Khanum: Title for a female ruler. Similar to Begum Sahiba
iv. Chacha: Father's brother, also used to refer to a close male person who is close to family and elder.
v. Bibi Jaan: Sister
vi. Dadi Jaan: Paternal grand-mother
vii. Huzuur: Master. Used more often when addressing someone of a higher level, indicating your respect.
viii. Sahib: A polite title used for addressing men
ix. Taj: Crown
x: Chachu: Paternal uncle who is the younger sibling of a father.
Hey guy!
Update after ages. I guess you might have noticed that I have changed the name to "We Were Restless Things" as it suits my storyline more.
Hope you guys liked the chapter. Don't forget to click the little star.