Haider's voice brings me out of my zone.
I put the phone down and go to the bay window.
He's there, having tea with his father.
I sit there and hug my knees as I watch him.
I move my eyes away.
Don't fall in love.
My shameless eyes go back.
What's meant to happen will happen.
I shut my eyelids.
Nahin yaar Alaya, please don't catch any feelings.
I sit there, procrastinating freshening up.
This dress is extremely beautiful, I don't want to take it off.
Sana Safinaz, Gul Ahmed, Elan, Asim Jofa, Maria B, Sania Maskatiya, HSY, Deepak Parwani.
EEEEK I'll go shopping tomorrow. God, I'll go shopping with Haider, how romantic.
I look at myself in the mirror, everywhere in the room, distract myself for a long time but my mind goes back to him.
He's sipping his tea.
I'm so creepy. Stop it Alaya.
I move my finger on the closed door of the window but my mehendi gets more fun to trace.
That is, until I hear him yelling someone's name.
He puts the cup of tea down and a maid comes to take it to the kitchen.
It's the one I asked him about, the one that behaved weird in the kitchen.
What's wrong with her leg, why does she walk like—
I MUFFLE MY SCREAM.
THE HAIDER GUN HER FOREHEADED
I press my lips together and try not to cry but my inside shakes.
WHAT
I hide myself behind the wall.
what?
Mama, baba.
I take my phone and try to unlock it but my hands tremble and my insides scream.
I can't let go of my lips.
Hiccups, screams, heavy breaths.
I cover my mouth with my hands, a pillow.
My legs tremble and I fall.
HE KILLED HER.
I scream in the pillow, but intentional screams don't come out.
I can't breathe steady enough to let out a sound.
The image doesn't leave.
The bullet on her forehead—
My heart— I'm having a heart attack.
"Baba!"
My heart's dying, I'm dying.
Her eyes didn't close.
Her eyes.
She was, I had met her in life. I had known her. She can't just die.
She was real, existing.
Haider is so cruel.
Where am I living?
How could baba do this to me.
To that lady? Why would he kill her?
I shouldn't have told him anything last night.
I didn't know Haider's so heartless.
Her opened eyes haunt me.
She's going to kill me.
Allah's going to do justice and I'll lose my everything.
The bullet on the forehead. She died! God she died!
I press my face against the pillow and bite on it to stop myself. Her eyes! Ya Allah, ya khudaya reham, end this, erase it, undo it.
Bring her back to life ALLAH MIYAAN PLEASE!
I try to sit up to watch her come back to life but? that's impossible. How could he?
The way she stopped me from helping her, it all travels my mind.
I can't, I don't want to live.
I hear the door open, "Alaya?"
I breathe, walking away, "Leave."
I get up and throw the lamp on him.
I throw pillows and everything I can from the vanity.
"Alaya what the heck, what happened, what's wrong?" He comes and tries to hold me and I step back pushing even the air between us with my hands.
"I hate you. Leave. Leave me alone. Please leave." My soul shivers.
"Are you okay jaana? Did anyone come here—"
"Don't. I'm not your jaana. Leave. Leave before I kill you, Haider. LEAVE!"
My legs betray me and my body gives up.
He sits in front of me and strokes a thumb on my cheek as my vision gets blurry.
I push him away when he tries to help me up.
"You killed her. I saw you, I saw it. You have no heart. You're... you're inhumane. You don't deserve any good in life. I hate you. You killed her, I saw you."
He drags me towards the bed and makes a call.
"Call baba. I don't want this. I want to go home."
"Send a chocolate bar and a packet of chips to my room, quick." He orders on the phone.
I see a glass of water stretched out towards me and hit it away. "No, I wanna go home. You killed her."
"Listen to me, it's okay. You're safe here."
"You killed her in front of me, in this house, how can you say that?"
I move his hands away and stick my head lower to the ground.
"I wanna go home. I don't want to be brave. I don't want to live this story. I was meant for a different book. This was not my story."
I watch him taking my dupatta off.
His hands slide below my knees and I crawl behind.
"Don't touch me." I take his hand off my back. "I didn't do anything. Leave me. Leave the room please. You're suffocating me. Harmeen!"
He walks to the door.
"Harmeen! Help! HELP!"
"Alaya, calm down." He opens the chocolate bar.
"HOW DO I CALM DOWN? YOU KILLED HER IN FRONT OF MY EYES. I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE YOU."
"I'm sorry, Alaya. I didn't know you were watching." He puts a piece of chocolate in my mouth but ignoring the sudden intense hunger, I spit it.
"I don't want to eat. You've mixed something in it, haven't you? I'm not going to forget anything. I'm going to report it to the police. Haider you killed her. Someone your mum's age, you killed her. I'm going to tell everyone."
I crawl to the telephone and dial 112.
"Hola?" My voice barely comes out.
I tap on the hook switch to end the call and dial 062.
It doesn't work, I dial 091.
What, what's the, víctimas de maltrato. 016.
(victims of abuse.)
"Alaya, have some sugar, you'll feel better."
I glare at him and dial 016 again.
I know they pick up. I've tried it after a nightmare. What's wrong with them?
I check the wire.
Am I dialing the wrong numbers?
My phone won't unlock. I wipe my hands with my dress and try again but I can't get my fingers to type the password.
He takes my phone and throws it on the bed.
My insides shiver more and more. I pick the glass of water from the floor and fill it. I take a few sips but the unsteady breath makes me choke.
I cough it out and drink the rest of the glass.
I breathe breathe and breathe before I put my head on my hands and my mind zooms on the bullet.
I whimper in helplessness and get up.
"Where are you going?"
"Let me go, Haider. Please."
"Alaya, it's 10PM you can report it to the police in the morni—"
"I need to remove the bullet."
"Alaya. Stop thinking of it—"
"—No, I won't stop. I'll go, I'll help her, and I'll tell the police I saw it. I'll give her a better house, I'll get her a better job."
"Okay, okay, have this and you can go." He hands me the packet of chips.
"NO YOU DON'T GET IT! I can't just watch her die and do nothing. How can you... How dare you? Did your insides not shiver? A soul was taken in front of you. How could you? How could you do it to a woman? A woman the age of your mother?"
"Alaya, you're not in your senses to understand—"
"—You should have spoken to me. I wasn't complaining last night. WHAT DID YOU DO HAIDER!"
I hit the telephone, the jug of water, everything. Nothing's bringing her back.
"Haider. Kill me. Please!" I join both my hands as I look up at him. "If the police doesn't— I can't live with this. Kill me before the guilt does. I don't want to die a painful death, you get me? Guilt is, it's not. I didn't see anything. It wasn't me. She didn't die." My hands reach up to his gun holster and he takes my hands in his. "Please kill me I swear I won't tell anyone."
"That I killed you? You won't tell anyone that I killed you."
My eyes tear up even more as I mourn for humanity, "How can you smile? I wouldn't be able to breathe, Haider. How can you walk. How dare you? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO HAPPINESS. YOU DON'T DESERVE ME. You don't deserve anything. Nothing good in life. You took an innocent life for nothin—"
"SHE WAS NOT INNOCENT DAMMIT!"
I gasp and close my eyes.
I open my eyes and see his dark black ones staring down at me in anger.
He pulls me up, "Go change into a nightwear."
I step back, "You killed her an—"
"ALAYA GO AND CHANGE! ENOUGH!"
I take another step back and sob.
I watch him disappear and I sit down to grieve for the dead. "Why would you do that? I was falling in love with you? Why would you kill her? What do I do now? I saw her forehead, I saw the bullet,"
He grabs my arm and hangs some clothes on it, "If I hear one more word the next bullet will be on your forehead—"
"—I'm not afraid of you, Haider," My voice comes out meekly, and he gives a microexpression of a smirk, "Don't take me wrong. This vurlnebi— I'm, I'm," He turns me around and opens the knots behind my back. "I hate you so much."
He presses me further onto the wall as he traces his finger on my back, getting his face right next to my ear to whisper. "I love you too."
Along with the inability to understand the monstrous behavior, the soft feelings for him rise too, somewhere still alive in my heart.
I hold both the ends of my blouse and turn around, press my back on the wall for it to hold the ends.
"Leave the room."
His indifferent small little smile hints he didn't hear me.
"I said leave the room," I repeat myself, this time, looking in his eyes.
He crosses his arms, taking the challenge.
I want to push him out but that image pulls me down, and I wail on the ground, broken. "Why would you do that?"
He crouchs in front of me, "You don't know her. I'll tell you in the morning when you're more sorted."
"—No, there's no excuse! You can't kill anyone!"
"Even if they have killed someone else?"
"What— Why— Who would she kill? Don't try to manipulate me, Haider. How did she go out? When can she kill anyone if she stays here 24/7? She killed someone on her way to the servants' quarters? Who did she kill? How can anyone kill someone and I saw you! Why would you not hand her to the police? You really think I'm stupid? She had marks and bruises everywhere, she had been tortured—"
"—Alaya, let's just not talk about this. You're not in your senses." He picks me up and puts me on the bed. "You're tired and you need some sleep. Would you like to eat anything?"
"She's sleeping till the end of the time. She's someone's family too—"
"So? What do I do?" he breaks a small tablet from the chocolate bar and pushes it in my mouth, having me lick and suck the melted chocolate on his thumb. "She does not have a family. Stop thinking of her."
I quickly swallow it and wipe my lips, realising how low my sugar was.
"You're so insensitive," I sit up and take the duvet down, "No matter what the case, no one deserves to be killed so mercilessly,—"
"—ALAYA LIE DOWN, NOW!"
I quickly lie down on my side and pull the duvet up.
He locks the door before going to freshen up.
I hate him,
I hate him,
I hate him,
I hate him,
I hate him,
I hate him,
•○●•○°●●
I hate him,
I hate him,
I hate him,
"Alaya, you haven't slept yet?"
"How can you normally pray Maghrib after having murdered someone? You think Allah's easily going to forgive you for an intentional murder—"
"—Close your eyes." He takes off his shirt and lowers the AC temperature before lying down.
He takes my nail out of my mouth and places his hand on my neck for a kiss.
I move my face away.
He kisses the end of my jaw and I have tears slip down my eyes.
"Alaya, she's not worth this fever and all these tears."
"No one deserves their murderer roaming free."
"You can't read one scene and judge the entire plot."
"What I've seen is enough. I don't need to hear anything else. And I can't believe that was the same person that spent the day so beautifully with me."
He nuzzles my neck and I try to catch a glimpse of him.
His lips reach up to my earlobe, "What were you doing on the window?"
"Haider how could you? How? How did your hands allow it. Move away, don't touch me with these hands."
He grips my waist before I go away.
"I don't want to sleep here. I want another room for myself." I try to leave the bed.
He pulls on my arm and pats below my breast, "Al-la-hu, Al-la-hu. Close your eyes and sleep."
I wait for him to fall asleep.
When I hear his snoring I sheepishly get up.
He holds my arm and the snoring stops altogether. I go back before he utters a word.
Enough of this liveliness.
My heart aches and guilt eats me up when I think of how I was enjoying the thought of being loved by this murderer just minutes before her death.
I need to stop living a passive life.
I thought it was a test that would end with just patience, but Allah's shown me I need to actively participate against the wrong.
I supress all sounds of crying.
●•°○●°○●
I hear his voice and my nightmares get interrupted over and over again.
"Jaana? Abbh behtar lag rahaa hai?" he asks a billionth time and I nod.
(Sweetheart? Do you feel better now?)
•●°●°○●●
I wake up and feel the warmth of the sunlight protecting me from the AC's cold.
It falls directly on my face and I cover it with my straightened hair.
I haven't even removed the bobby pins yet.
I turn around and sleep on my stomach.
Yesterday's real life nightmare comes in front of my eyes again.
I sit up in the middle of the empty bed and rub my eyes.
"Good morning," he comes in with the breakfast.
It's his usual.
Everything's back to normal.
I hold my heavy head.
"Feel better?"
I have no memory of what happened in my sleep. I just remember taking a tissue to wipe my eyes and seeing him awake.
He touches my forehead and cheek, "You're okay. Have some breakfast, take these medicines and you'll feel even better. Are you in for the shopping plan or are you in that last night mood of don't touch me."
I watch him and the american breakfast.
I get out of bed and search for my shoes.
Not the heels, my slippers.
"Where the fuck are they?" I roam on both sides of the bed.
"Exactly where you put them?" He answers and I look at him to see him gesture towards the closet.
I tie the last knot of my blouse before I walk in front of him towards the closet.
I take the first salwar kameez I see and walk to the washroom.
●•°○●•●○
When I get downstairs, Haider's there on the breakfast table.
"Nahin, seniorita nahin aa rahi. Uss ke nakhre hi nahin khatam hote." He talks to Harmeen and Harmeen pauses after seeing me.
"Aisi bhi nahin hain abbh bhabhi." She looks down at her breakfast.
"Tumhain nahin pataa kal kaise aasmaan sar pe utthaaya huaa tha tumhaari bhabhi ne."
My chair screeches on the floor as I pull it, and he sees me.
"Oh,"
Harmeen chuckles at him and I'm in no mood of jokes.
I think of how relaxed I've been with it all.
This traumatic experience was my mistake. The happiness right before it made it ten times worse.
I shouldn't have been happy.
Not when Allah had already shown me who he is.
All that love was fake. He has no emotions.
"What do you want?" He asks and I look around the table before losing all interest and getting up to leave.
My dupatta stops me from going any further and I'm about to tell him to leave it when I turn around to see his hand up in the air.
It's stuck on his watch.
And why should I not be happy?
I'm living between these monsters. I need a break. I'm a human being. If some of this relaxes my mind and makes me happy it's not my mistake.
He innocently eats with the other hand as I try to unsnarl it but it doesn't.
Embarrassed by how he's enjoying it and nervous due to the looks thrown at me by his family, I take the dupatta off and leave upstairs to change.
After changing I text Alishba to ask her if baba's okay after yesterday's event.
I really need to go home for a break.
I walk through the corridor to reach the stairs. That is until I reach near the study and hear his father talking to him.
I hear a few lines of yesterday's Zaalima until it gets muted.
"With or without consent, it doesn't matter Haider. One of the guests uploaded it, the public liked it, and it went viral. What matters is that the public liked it. And that means they like you. Take advantage of it. You know how. I'll make sure the press reaches the ...O tomorrow."
Huh?
What did he say? Did he say NGO?
What went viral?
That video went viral?
God I was reacting so bad. Ew.
"Aur khuda ka naam hai apne jazbaat pe kaabu rakho. Kal joh tum ne kiya woh hargiz achha nahin tumhaare ... ke liye. Ghar ke maamlat ... ki hadd tak rakho. Tum apne jazbaat ki iss tarha numaaish karo ge toh tumhaare ... ko sanjeedgi se kaise liya jaae ga? Aik jazbaati aadmi ko kabhi ... sambhaalne ke qaabil nahin samjha jaa sakta."
(And for God's sake, keep your emotions under control. What you did yesterday is of no good for your ... . Keep these private matters in the boundaries of ... . How will anyone take your ... seriously if you keep displaying your emotions like that? An emotional man is never considered capable of managing ... .)
I walk to my room, not able to take any more of their bullshit. They are the worst people I've ever encountered.
My phone vibrates.
Alishba:
nahin, ghar nahin aana.
(no, don't come home.)
Huh? Do I tell her about Haider? How do I deal with the traumatic image that keeps flashing in front of my eyes?
Alishba:
ew tum itni embarrassing videos ke baad ghar aa bhi kaise sakti ho, mama papa ko kyaa shaqal dikhaao gi? 😭
(ew how can you even come home after such embarrassing videos? how will you face mama papa?)
Alaya:
haan, maine bhi sunaa.
(yea, i heard of that.)
Alaya:
maine nahin dekhi, bhejo mujhe.
(i haven't seen it, send it to me.)
Alishba:
insta pe bheji hui hain subhah se.
(i sent them on insta in the morning.)
Alaya:
ew, mujhe nahin dekhni 😭 yuckies tou nahin aa rahi main?
(ew, i don't want to see them, i hope i'm not looking bad.)
I open instagram and see a flood of messages.
Alishba:
naa, ttheek hai.
(nuh, they're okay.)
I literally only have like... a hundred followers?
And most of them aren't even active.
Alishba:
buri nahin hai.
(not bad.)
What's this 23 dms.
I rarely get 1.
Alishba:
lekin cringee, mujhe mama papa ke saath baith ke dekhni pari. tv lagaa huaa tha, poore ghar ne dekha news pe.
(but cringee, i had to watch it with mama papa. it was on the TV, the whole house saw it.)
Alaya:
😭😭 ewwww main nahin jaanti kisi ko. main nahin ghar waapis jaa rahi abbh kabhi.
(eww, i don't know anyone. i'm never again going back home.)
I go back to insta and check the messages.
Oh fuck I forgot about the stories from yesterday evening.
I rewatch them all before reading any messages, and they aren't bad. I was happy. They're cute.
But everyone has seen my face now...
I block last night from my mind before opening the messages.
My classmates appraise the outfit and makeup.
It feels so validating.
Specially because I agree that I look beautiful. But it's all because of the makeup.
@mudassirm143
rabba ne tujh ko bnany me kar di hai husn ki khali tijoria
I want to block him but who'll repost my Palestine, Indian muslims, and other social activism stories if I block him? He has a good organic following.
I leave him on seen.
@zulekha.abbas
dress from?
Girls never compliment.
@a.laya.slay.a
idk, it was a gift, alhamdulillah pretty, ik.
The next girl does.
@bano_38e
looking gorgg 😍
Pretty girls do compliment.
@a.laya.slay.a
thank youu <3.
I thank all my friends and classmates and then reach the message from my... my crush before Subhan.
I breathe as I open it.
@mellaman_var
(@theycallme_var)
ey, eso fue bonito.
(hey, that was pretty.)
@mellaman_var
(@theycallme_var)
cómo se siente eclipsar a la novia?
(so, how does outshining the bride feel like?)
I take a deep breath before replying.
@a.laya.slay.a
era mi walima
(it was my walimah)
I look up and around.
High school mein itni attention de dete, mera confidence hi bhar jaata thora bohot.
@marinahk2000
bro, you look like a mix of katrina kaif and sara khan.
@marinahk2000 has shared a post from @divamagazinepakistan
@marinahk2000
is that you?
@marinahk2000
ALAYA I'M OBSESSED 😍😍😍😭🔪❤
@marinahk2000
congrats and well wishes 💝💝 hv a blessed married life.
@marinahk2000
you both are made for each other, the chemistry>>> 😭❤❤ i'm in love
I watch the post.
I can't believe that's me.
All my insecurities vanish.
I hate myself in the camera, I look much better in the mirror but this is something else.
I don't want to think about him but I...
OH MY GOD NOT THIS MAGAZINE.
WHAAT!
I read the comments and my heart flutters in happiness.
That's mee!!
God.
This is unreal.
Netziens saying I'm pretty.
I frown.
Alhamdulillah.
I watch a few more posts shared by Alishba and see the Falak Tak captured on camera.
That was silly.
That's not fair.
It was a private moment.
I turn the phone around.
The excitement comes from being on the media with a man that killed an innocent person yesterday.
I knew the person he killed.
I had seen, talked to them. I knew they were innocent.
It makes me feel guilty to be happy.
My phone starts ringing and Haider's message pops up on the screen.
I want to let it ring but I'd rather hear his voice than have to see his face.
"Why did you throw the dupatta?"
I roll my eyes.
"Do you know what that means?"
What? What does that mean now?
"Alaya have you ever seen someone do that?"
"No."
"Yea so don't do things you don't know anything about."
I realise what he means and the attack of guilt, shame and stress makes me bite my finger.
"Jaana, do you want to go shopping or not?" I hear a door opening in the background and go towards the window to see him sitting in the car.
"No."
The view reminds me of last night and I step back.
"Sahi," he cuts the call.
"Haid—"
I watch his car leave.
Thousands of questions seep in my mind.
Where's he going? Has he hidden the body already? What if he's...
Flashbacks of that girl that I helped run away come to my mind.
I immediately call Haider.
He picks it up after 6 to 7 rings.
"Hello?"
"Haider, come back."
There's a silence from his side, "You... want to go shopping?"
"Y-yea."
A maid comes and hands me the dupatta that got stuck on his watch.
"I'll try to come home earl—"
"—No. You're coming now. Or I'll go alone."
Fuck, that's right. I should have gone and followed his car.
"I'm on my way." he cuts the call.
I go downstairs and step out of the house.
The garden, the grass.
God.
It all replays. The bullet on her forehead and her eyes. The way I desperately tried to undo it in my head. To somehow get a remote and rewind the scene. To jump down the window and stop it.
I can't step outside, the ground on which a human being was killed in front of me.
I stand on the stairs and watch all the guards.
How do they live? How do they go home hiding these secrets in their hearts?
Poverty can have you stoop so low.
They can't be blamed.
I see Haider's car and bite my nail.
"Alaya!" he yells.
I keep my eyes on the ground.
He blows the horn and I give him a glance, "Jaao, mujhe nahin aana." (Go, I don't want to come.)
"Yeh kyaa hai? Abbhi tum ne mujhe bulaaya naa? I'm not coming back."
(What's this? You just called me back? I won't come again.)
I ignore it and go inside.
The second his car takes a u-turn I get out.
My head aches at the thought of stepping on the same grass where a woman was ruthlessly killed.
I walk on the pathway and tell the driver to bring the car there as quickly as possible.
He does and I sit in the backseat. He gets out of it immediately.
It reminds me of that scene where Sawera—
There's no time to think of anything.
"Chalaaein gaari, jaldi!"
(Start the car, quick!)
I hear him talking on the phone.
"Kahaan jaana hai madam," he asks.
(Where do you want to go ma'am?)
"Shopping," I lie.
"Shopping." He repeats on the phone. He hums for a while and I roll my eyes as I tap my fingers on the seat in front of mine.
"Jaldi!!"
(Quick!!)
He sits inside and starts driving immediately.
I guide him and we easily find Haider's car.
I don't tell him to follow it, I just keep guiding him behind it.
Haider's driving gets faster.
"Bhai, baraae meherbaani jaldi chalein!"
(Sir, please driver faster!)
"Sir ne kahaa hai iss se taiz nahin chal sakti." (Haider has prohibited me from driving faster)
He's driving at 50km/h.
I stare at him.
"Niklein gaari se." I'll drive.
(Get out of the car.)
"Ji?" he turns his head to ask, and I see a bullet on his forehead. (Sorry?)
My heart loses it and a thick coat of sweat covers me instantly.
"Ghar, ghar chalein." I let my dizzy head drop on the seat next to mine, "Mujhe nahin jaana kah—" (Home, drive back home. I don't want to go any—)
I can't do this. What if he kills him for not accomplishing my desire.
"Nahin, maazrat. Kisi bhi qareebi shopping mall mein le chalein mujhe." (No, sorry. Take me to any shopping mall nearby.)
I receive a few messages from Haider.
The ID details and password of a bank account along with a screenshot of the credit card part, and the code number.
●○•°●•○•
I see him praying Isha and go do ablution.
My fingers point to the sky after the salah.
I say nothing. I know Allah knows it all.
Aameen.
I put the prayer mat away and take off my hijab.
The Prophet's Heir: The Life of Ali Ibn Abi Talib, the title of his book reads.
The bed's warm. The blanket's soft.
That woman was alive yesterday.
She's never going to feel this comfort.
I used to post about Palestine. Of how ungrateful we are, living in all this comfort while they suffer. How the topic tires us, but they are living it 24/7.
And here I am today. Sleeping comfortably next to the man that snatched the life of an innocent poor woman.
It feels like I have no right to comfort until she gets justice.
I get blocked everytime I try to think of her.
Life's moving so fast.
"She does not have a family."
Who's going to mourn for her if not me?
Her face from that kitchen incident comes in front of my eyes and I close them.
"Kyaa haal hai? Tabbiyat behtar hui?" He asks and I realise I probably had fever last night. (How are you? Do you feel better now?)
Quite obvious. It's the most human reaction I could have had.
I wasn't in my senses.
I've never had someone I know die, Alhamdulillah. Not just the death, the murder was crushing for me.
I went shopping today.
I breathed. I functioned.
She's there, hopefully in a grave.
She has lost all chances. To breathe, to think, to become a better person, to get closer to Allah.
My heart aches.
"Kal NGO chalna hai tumhain mere saath," he closes his book, "wahaan kuchh bache—"
(We need to go to the NGO tomorrow, some kids there—)
"—Media ke saamne kuchh charity kar dete hain, naujwaanon ke dil toh jeet liye hain, abbh buzurgon se bhi thore votes haasil kar lete hain. Dil mein jazbaat hain nahin, insaaniyat hai nahin, lekin dikhaawe ke liye NGO chalte hain, claro."
(—Let's do some charity for the media, we've already won the hearts of the youth, let's get some votes from the elders too. What do emotions and humanity bring anyway? The NGO act is just a show-off, clearly.)
"Bilkul. Tayyaar rehna."
(Exactly. Be ready.)
"Main nahin chal rahi."
(I'm not going.)
He turns the lamp off.
The more I think of what my life has come to, the more tears drop down my eyes.
The worst thing isn't even the lack of humanity. It's the difference of religion. If he were a muslim, at least I'd be able to convince him to follow the right path.
We can't pray together.
I hear him getting out of bed and out of the room.
●•○•●°○●
"Main. Nahin chal rahi!"
(I'M. Not going!)
"Mujhe tum paanchh minute mein tayyaar chaahiye ho." (I want you ready in five minutes.)
"Mujhe nahin jaana Haider. Iss dikhlaawe ki zindagi ka hissa nahin bann'na mujhe."
(I don't want to go Haider. I don't want to be a part of this fake life.)
"Paanchh minute," he glares before leaving the room. (Five minutes.)
I sit down and chant how much I hate him for the first four minutes.
Then rush to the closet and wear the minimally designed lavender sharara his mother sent a while ago.
I hear the door of the room opening and I open the closet's door.
"Mere saath zabardas— ti..."
(Don't you even— dare...)
An unfamiliar white lady walks in the room, I see her uniform and the name on the huge bags.
Charlotte Tilbury
"Hi, ma'am." She smiles brightly.
I smile back at her, "I'll be right back,"
I go out and look for Haider ka bacha, (haider's ass) "Mujhe makeup nahin karwaana." (I don't want to get makeup done.)
"Sultana beghum ka hukum hai."
(It's sultana beghum's order.)
"Toh? Tum pe chalta ho ga un ka hukum, mujh pe nahin." (So? You might follow her orders, I won't.)
"Yaar, Alaya, zaroori hai naa, mujhe toh tum khud abbhi bhi bohot khubsoorat lag rahi ho but we have to present ourselves in a certain way. There are some rules and regulations that we need to follow. Comfort isn't the priority."
(Yaar, Alaya, it's important. To me you look gorgeous the way you are but we have to present ourselves in a certain way. There are some rules and regulations that we need to follow. Comfort isn't the priority.)
"Mujhe kyun ghaseetta iss mein? Mujhe tou nahin karni thi tum se shaadi—"
(Why did you drag me in this? I didn't want to get married to you—)
"—Haan, haan, of course, main marr rahaa tha tumhaare baggeir, maine zabardasti ki, sab ko pataa hai Alaya, jaao tayyaar ho khuda ka naam hai." (Yea, yea, of course, I was dying without you, I forced you, everyone knows Alaya, please go get ready for God's sake.)
I blink my eyes to dry the tears as I walk towards the room.
He takes my wrist in his hand and I turn to see his orbs sparkling with love, "Thank you."
●○●○•°●○●
The walk from the car to the foundation was calming. Being helpful to the hundreds of needy people in the center makes me forget that one woman I was worried for.
On the entrance I learn that the whole family comes here on every happy occasion. The orphan kids and the homeless elders of the center pray for such occasions and wait to receive the generosity.
They pray for such occasions. This is so messed up.
The moment I get to distribute gifts and talk to every child, my mind relaxes completely.
"Shuperman pashand hai aap ko?"
(You like superman?)
He nods shyly, "Iss mein kyaa hai?" he points towards the gifts hamper and a kids store's bag. (What's in this?)
I shrug, "Mujhe toh nahin pataa. Aap ko kyaa lagta hai?" (I don't know. What do you think?)
He shrugs and stretches his hands up out of shyness, "Mujhe ni pataa," (I don't know.)
"Khol ke dekhna hai?"
(Do you want to open it and take a look?)
"Alaya," Haider's brother addresses me for a fifth fucking time, "Make it quick. The queue is long."
"Sir," I show him a hand and move back towards the kids after an eye roll.
Fuck it.
Shit, I really did that?
Fuck it, he's going to kill me.
Oh my God, he's been polite with me all this time. Why would I be rude.
Yea, okay, I know we've been here for two hours and I've only distributed the gifts to three hundred kids and I've conversated with every single one of them, but that's how it's meant to be done.
God, Alaya. Shut it. He's not Haider.
I look at Haider.
His stance seems a bit changed. A bit warm.
He looks at me and I gesture towards his brother with my eyes.
He narrows his eyes and shakes his head,
no big.
I look ahead and bite my lip.
But I said sir because I don't know his name.
I'll search it up on the internet. I'll never ask Haider.
This is horrible. How can I live under a roof with these people without knowing their names.
He's right, Alaya, make it quick.
The line moves faster, and he was right, I should have been quicker. The kids in the queue are tired as well.
I frown.
I have a chance to make their lives better. They might do it just for show, but I mean every action.
My heart aches every time a kid with a big smile leaves the queue without talking or leaving a kiss on my cheek.
While the helper stacks more gifts on the table I grab the arms of the kid in front of me and hug him. The jhumkas make my ears hurt. I take his shoulder's support to help them up.
I see cameras recording it and immediately get back up.
"What's this—?" I remind myself of his father's words from yesterday morning.
Haider holds my wrist.
He turns it around and reads his name on the mehendi I tried to erase so badly yesterday.
"You know I love you?"
I roll my eyes and try to subtly pull my hand out but he caresses my wrist bone.
I look at it, he looks at me, I raise my eyes and see his on my lips.
"How many people do you kill on a daily basis for this to be so normal for you. How inhumane do you have to be, how insensitive, to not understand that everyone is just as human, as existing as you. You can't love anyone. You don't have emotions, understanding. I hate you and your family. What are these cameras for? How fake can you all be for more power? This ritual of yours doesn't matter. The charity done out of your haram income won't be of any good for you. I'll never let this happen. I'll never let this country in your hands. I'll tell everyone everything."
That was the most stupid move, I realise instantly.
I shouldn't have told him.
But even if I hadn't told him and had gone with my plan, he'd make his threats come true.
His one glare turns down my volume to zero, and I'm not planning on any such things anymore but he still makes sure I don't utter a single word against his name.
"My abbu is just as important to me as your baba is to you. I've been very lenient towards you and your family but I won't bear anyone, even if it's you, distorting the image or ruining our reputation. In case you try to act smart, just remember that I know the location of your baba's house. And I own many excavators, and way more many rifles."
I watch him walk away.
[break timee, but won't be long InShaAllah.]