Murtasim Khan realized that he hadn't felt this kind of peace in a very long time while being seated on the restaurant's rooftop. The sun gracefully dipped behind the grand mosque, casting a serene scene that resonated with him. This sense of solace, that rarely visited his heart, spread through his being, offering a respite he sorely needed.
This feeling of belonging, contentment, and tranquility was a stark contrast to the suffocation he often felt due to the the discussions and decision makings at the archaic panchayat. The men, present at the panchayat, held onto traditional and misogynistic values with outdated beliefs, it was as if they remained stuck in the 18th century. His father was no different from these men, adhering to the same orthodoxic ideologies in the name of keeping 'tradition' alive. But Murtasim knew that all better than this. He heart was not willing to abide to these norms but sometimes life has its cruel ways as it doesn't let you have a choice. The weight of societal and family expectations and duties crushed him, yet, he was expected to remain voiceless about it.
However, today felt like a divergence from the norm. This day felt like a breath of fresh air amid his tumultuous life, much to his surprise. Exploring Lahore's heritage brought back memories of his university days, a time when he experienced a sense of liberation and contentment. The history and art of the places they visited fascinated him, and he was grateful for Meerab's exceptional guidance. Exhausted as they returned home, a gentle smile rested on his lips, a witness to the peaceful and joyous day he had experienced after a very long time.
However, this happiness was merely fleeting. His father's abrupt announcement of his marriage to Meerab triggered anger within Murtasim. Was his father truly expecting him to marry a woman he just met? Could a lifetime be built upon such a brief acquaintanceship? A sudden realization struck him. No wonder his father stressed upon getting to know Meerab– this all had been planned beforehand.
Meerab's eyes mirrored her disbelief as she confronted his father, asking if this was some sort of joke. Murtasim knew too well that his father wasn't one to crack such jokes. Even when uncle Waqas tried to explain away Meerab's reaction as shyness and exhaustion Murtasim sensed the depth of her hurt and disbelief. As she excused herself, he observed that her distress was clearly evident.
Murtasim recognized the turmoil on Meerab's face – a sentiment he shared as well. She obviously did not want this marriage, much like himself. As he tried to clear his throat and voice his concern, he was met with his father's sharp gaze. The "don't you dare create a scene here" look was enough to suppress all his disagreements.
Suppressing his inner turmoil, Murtasim gathered his resolve. "Apologies, but I have to go somewhere. An urgent matter requires my immediate attention," he announced, requesting leave and promising his return before their planned departure to Hyderabad tomorrow morning . As he left the stifling room, he breathed a sigh. 'It's going to be a long night,' he thought as he decided to go out for a drive.
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He drove around for hours, trying to sort through his thoughts, not knowing what his destination was. It wasn't until a sharp striking sound of thunder jerked him back to reality and he finally pulled over to take a breather. Of course, his father was behind this whole arranged marriage thing. Murtasim's own happiness and wishes rarely mattered, it has always been like that. His mind was bursting with millions of thought but a creeping realization of how inevitable the situation was drawn over him. His father had already given his word, there was no way out now. Despite that, Murtasim was determined. He knew he had to talk to his father about it, for Meerab's sake as well as his own. He couldn't let Meerab suffer because of his father's decisions. She wasn't a pawn in a game. So, he decided to have that conversation, no matter what.
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Murtasim's return to Waqas Ahmed's house came around 8 in the morning, with just an hour left before their planned departure. Feeling a rush of urgency, he quickly went inside and swiftly changed his clothes. The desire to depart as quickly as possible gripped him, driven by his reluctance to confront Meerab.
The memory of Meerab's pained expression weighed on Murtasim's mind, a haunting image engulfed him in remorse and embarrassment as a result of his father's decision. Amid the farewells exchanged with Waqas and Anila, Murtasim silently prayed for Meerab's absence, hoping to avoid encounter.
However, as they bid their goodbyes, a sudden inquiry from his mother shattered his hopes, "Where's Meerab?" Panic surged within him; he had to leave before she came down. As he spotted his parents engrossed in a conversation with aunty Anila, discussing wedding matters, he seized the opportunity to lean in and whisper to Mariam, "I'll be waiting outside." With nimble steps, he made his way out, a mix of anxiety and determination clouding his mind.
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As they arrived back in Hyderabad, exhaustion had taken hold of everyone, though a distinct unease hung over Murtasim. He knew he had to address the matter with his father urgently. Spotting his father heading towards his study, he recognized that this was the right moment. With a hesitant knock on the door, he entered the room.
"Baba Sahab, I need to talk to you," Murtasim's voice trembled with nervousness.
"No, Murtasim, I want to speak first. Care to explain your behavior at Waqas's house yesterday? How could you act like a reckless teenager and leave like that? Don't you have any manners or sense? What impression must Waqas have of us?" Shahnawaz interjected, his disappointment and anger evident.
"I apologize for that, but your announcement caught me off guard. Baba Sahab, how could you arrange my marriage just like that? I don't even know Meerab. How can I agree to spending the rest of my life with her?" Murtasim's voice held a blend of concern and nervousness.
"Are you questioning my authority, Murtasim? I know what's best for you, and I don't think that I'm answerable to you for this decision," Shahnawaz's tone grew intimidating, his eyes narrowing.
"But it's my marriage. Don't I have the right to choose whom I marry?" Murtasim voiced his concern.
"Murtasim, what has gotten into you? I'm your father, and I have your best interests at heart. Waqas is a close friend, and I thought this marriage would strengthen our bond. Is that such a grave sin?" Shahnawaz's annoyance was palpable.
"But Meerab is unhappy with this arrangement as well. How can we be forced into a bond like this?" Murtasim whispered.
"What Meerab thinks is not our concern. Waqas assured me she will agree to it eventually, so there shouldn't be any problem," Shahnawaz replied.
"But what if she struggles to fit in here?" Murtasim questioned.
"She's a woman, Murtasim. It's her duty to adjust to the environment her husband belongs to," Shahnawaz's voice held traces of irritation.
Murtasim couldn't help but cringe at his father's remark. The pressure on women to adandon their homes, identities, and former lives to conform to their husband's lifestyle left him disappointed. These traditional norms suffocated him, yet he felt powerless to challenge them.
"Murtasim, I won't tolerate any further objections or disagreements. You've embarrassed me enough at Waqas's house. So, you better accept the reality that you'll be getting married to Meerab in two weeks from now," Shahnawaz instructed sternly.
"TWO WEEKS? That's too soon," Murtasim's surprise was evident.
"The time should not concern you. You aren't a woman who needs to prepare clothes and jewelry. Your role is simply to be present and say those two words. Now, leave. I'm already quite exhausted," Shahnawaz's voice dripped with annoyance.
Murtasim understood he couldn't win any argument with his father, regardless of his efforts. He had no desire to rebel, having experienced its futility before. Nodding slightly, he muttered, "Alright, Baba Sahab," and exited his father's office, consumed by thoughts he could only keep to himself.
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Stepping into his room, Murtasim's gaze caught the gloomy display outside. The sky, shrouded in heavy clouds, hinted a rainstorm—a perfect backdrop to amplify his own hopelessness. Thoughts surged in like crashing waves to him. Despite the passing years, his father's persistent stubbornness and egotistical demeanor remained the same. The mere thought of it distressed him. He realized that his emotional bond with his father had always been lacking, leaving an ache that seemed to grow deeper with time.
The only childhood memories that Murtasim had of his father were getting frightened or cowed by his venomous words. The emotional divide between them, lacking a true connection, had created an emptiness in Murtasim. As adolescence emerged, a sense of recklessness grew in him as his desires to challenge his father's authority dwelled in him but that was all in vain. His father always had an upper hand. With maturity came the realization that perhaps compliance was the most wise path. It was this compliance that provided him with a fragile sense of mental balance, keeping him sane within the limits of his family. The past, with its weight of suppressed sentiments, bore heavily on him.
As the thunder echoed outside, Murtasim couldn't help but draw a poignant parallel. The tempestuous weather reflected the inner turmoil he was feeling - like a storm raging within him. The heavy rain, that had started to pour, symbolized the cascade of tears his heart had held back for far too long. A silent plea for liberation and happiness left him, emotions that had long been foreign to his life.
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"Baarish tab bhi hoti hai jab kisi ka dil rota hai"
I initially did not thought about writing the last scene but I just couldn't help it.