Himmat na haar, dil chota mat kar,
Sath mere chal mera haath pakar kar,
Aankhon mein tu aansu leke soya na kar,
Baby Badshah ki jaan hai tu roya na kar...
Mainu tu leja kithay dur meraya haniya,
Mainu tu leja kithay dur...
Begum Salma Shahnawaz Khan was known as a tough woman, and she didn't deny the rumour. You didn't get to where she was today by compromising and playing soft. Yes, she was a woman of steel; she had the kind of formidable strength which made the burden of responsibility, power and utmost authority, look regal. You had to be tough-as-nails to watch your husband die young, leaving behind two young children, one of whom was the heir to a dynasty. She had squashed the urge to weep, put aside her grief, and made her son the focal point of her efforts; after all, Khan Murtasim was the beacon of hope to their people, their family, and their empire.
She had always thought that Murtasim was different from her and Shahnawaz; he'd always had an academic flair. From a young age, he had started reading all the books he could get his hands on, sometimes even reading with the servant's children just because they had a book he hadn't read before. He'd then started building models of planes from scratch; assembling, painting and then testing them. If a plane wasn't up to the mark, he would just dissemble it and work on it until it performed the way he wanted it to.
She believed he had inherited his love for academia from his grandfather, Ahmed Khan, who had been a revolutionary leader of their clan. Naturally, she worried that one day, her son's logical thinking and love for academia may clash with his duties as Khan, something she thought was inevitable. Murtasim had never been weak or soft, but he'd always had a quiet control on himself and his emotions, which was uncommon in heirs of feudal dynasties.
It was why Salma Begum had been astonished when her young son, who'd wanted to become a pilot, had returned from Imperial College London and had taken his father's ancestral seat with such ease and authority. Not because he had done so, because she'd always known he would fulfil his duty, but because he had managed to study business and become a pilot, all before taking on the role of Khan on his father's untimely death.
To this day, her heart clenched with unease when she thought about it; had her son somehow known that his world would be tilted on its axis so soon? Was that why he'd worked like the devil to fulfil his own goals before the mantle of Khan had been thrust upon him? She didn't know, but she had learnt one thing about her son during that time; Khan or not, Murtasim did not allow anyone to dictate his fate. He possessed the same strength that his father had; he was just as comfortable sitting in a panchayat with guns as he was with sitting in a boardroom in whatever city he had businesses in. He had a silent strength, his aura never brash; her son had proved to be an enigmatic amalgamation of academics and raw power, and wherever he was, Khan Murtasim's word was the law.
Of course she had some leniency, being his mother, but Salma Begum knew not the test her son's limits; he had already shown her that there was nothing more formidable than a cornered tiger. Since then, she had focused on her own duties as Maa Begum; seeing to the welfare of their women, sorting out their issues and making decisions on their behalf. She presided over the family like an esteemed elder, one who was not to be questioned or trifled with.
Sitting in her lounge in the West wing of the haveli, she looked at her guests. Guests only if you ignored the fact that she had summoned them here. Waqas and Anila looked outwardly calm; a little too comfortable considering they had no idea where their only child was and had been in the dark for the past five days.
"Waqas mai hairaan hu ke tum itnay araam se kaise baith saktay ho?" Maa Begum began archly.
Waqas looked down for just a moment before replying. "Bhabi Begum Meerab ka pata chal chukka hai, woh theek hai, aur kuch hi dair mai yahan aajaye gi. Iss waqt humaray liye yahi sabse zaroori cheez hai."
"Aur Meerab ka pata kaise chala hai? Agar mai tumhe phone kar ke na batati ke tumhari beti Qatar mai ghoom rahi hai, to tum dono ghaflat ki neend mai hi sotay rehtay." She said, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head.
Anila stirred, obviously taking offense to the statement. "Bhabi Begum, Meerab jhoot nahi bolti. Agar aisa huwa hai, to uske paas koi na koi wajah zaroor hogi. Humari beti ne aaj tak humse kuch nahi chupaya aur na hi humne ussey kabhi koi wajah di hai chupanay ki." She would not hear anything against her daughter, not matter who it came from.
Gently squeezing her hand, Waqas became the voice of reason. "Meerab ko aanay dein, phir baat karletay hain."
They sat in silence whilst the lavish tea and assortment of food items in-front of them lay untouched.
Meerab had thought she had faced enough shocks because of her one decision, but she had been proven wrong the minute she'd landed. Surviving the dreadful flight home had been bad enough, made only slightly better by Murtasim strapping her in the seat inside the cockpit. Two jaws had dropped when he'd revealed her identity. Hers because she'd never heard him say it out loud, and the First Officer's because he'd realised exactly who he was messing with.
The remainder of the flight had passed in silence, with Murtasim simmering with unleashed anger. The First Officer had only spoken to answer Murtasim's curt questions during the landing checklist. As for Murtasim, he'd kept an eye on her the entire time whilst flying the plane, and upon landing, had secured the controls, given one last look to Adam, and grabbed her hand to lead her out of the plane. She'd squeaked about her belongings, but he'd just muttered something about them being in the Flight Lounge in a bit.
He'd dropped her off at the lounge and disappeared. She had taken the time to change her clothes, say goodbye to Saba, and check her phone. What she was greeted with was hardly welcoming; seventeen missed calls and one voice note from her parents. They were at the Khan Haveli, and wanted her to come straight there. As much as she pushed down the increasing dread, the sickly feeling Meerab had when leaving Karachi was now back; something had gone wrong, she was sure of it.
Murtasim found her biting her bottom lip and pacing up and down in the lounge. He'd changed into an off-white suit paired with a white dress shirt, any remnants of Captain Murtasim Khan gone. She looked like herself again; her brown hair falling haphazardly over the shoulders of her sky-blue floral kameez. He took a deep breath; their drastic changes in appearance made it look like they'd never had the last week together; suddenly they were just Meerab and Murtasim again, back to their ground realities.
He was going to take her home and leave her there, whilst he went back to Hyderabad, just like how it had been for the past two years.
"Chalein?"
She looked up sharply and his eyes narrowed; something had happened. He raised an eyebrow in question.
As she walked over to him and handed him her phone, Murtasim just knew this was another mess he's be sorting out today. As he heard Waqas Chacha's voice tell Meerab that there a car at the airport waiting to bring her to the haveli, he tilted his head and Meerab with a question in his eyes. He had left the decision to her. Meerab just nodded her head and turned around to pick up her things, but was stopped by Murtasim.
"Aajaye ga luggage, don't worry about it. Let's go."
On reaching the entrance of the airport, Murtasim found her driver just as a porter brought her luggage out to the boot. Meerab looked around confused. They were going to same place, what was the need for two cars?
Catching her expressions, Murtasim leaned in as he opened the car door for her. "Jab unhe nahi pata ke tum mere saath ho, to ab batanay ki kya zaroorat hai?"
The meaning of it wasn't lost on Meerab; she'd been found in Doha by him, but he wasn't going to make that information public or take over the current situation. He was keeping her confidence and letting her deal with her matters. For a man who could easily drag her home and name and shame her, she had been at some fault after all, this action of his impacted Meerab in ways she couldn't explain. He was giving her the space and autonomy to finish what she'd started, on her own terms. That said a lot about a man's character and intentions. But then again, it had never his intentions in question.
The journey from Karachi to Hyderabad had never seemed so long, neither to Meerab, nor to Murtasim, who was following her car with his entourage. The tension which had sparked in the airport lounge had bubbled up to the surface by the time the cars reached Khan Haveli. As Meerab got out of the car and looked at the dominating structure of the house she had once loved, she felt a bitter taste seeping into mouth. Oh how the tides had changed. Waves which had seemed easily manageable were now threatening to engulf her. But Meerab had never been one to run in fear. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and looked around for Murtasim, who nodded at her to go in without him.
To say the atmosphere in the West lounge was chilly would be like saying Antarctica was a little cold. As Meerab met her Baba's eyes, he stood up, making everyone in the room turn to her. He looked alert; neither stressed or worried, just a strange calm on his face and a burning question in her eyes. They knew.
The next ten minutes passed in a suffocating blur; the pretence of normality was carried on as Meerab was sat down, tea was poured and pastries were served, and then finally, it was show time.
"To Meerab batao, kahan se ghoom kar aayi ho?" Maa Begum was good, luring her in with false safety.
"Meerab, betay tum Islamabad nahi gayi?" Anila intervened, wanting to hear the truth from her daughter.
Meerab's voice was low and serious when she spoke. "Mama, mai..."
"Islamabad? Anila ye tum kya keh rahi ho? Jab Qatar dekhne ka mauqa ho to koi Islamabad kyun jaye ga?" Maa Begum taunted.
There was no doubt about it now, they knew everything.
"Meerab, tumhari Mama ne tumse kuch poocha hai beta, kahan thi tum?" Waqas finally spoke, sensing Maa Begum's now hostile mood.
Time to face the music Meerab. "Baba, mein Islamabad nahi gayi thi. Mein Doha mai thi, Saba ke saath. Aur mai apko sab batati hu but please believe me, I was safe and completely fine. Koi parayshaani ki baat nahi hai."
There was silence. Every breath could be counted, every gulp, sigh and scoff echoed.
"Chalo phir to humein shukar manana chahiye, ke humari bahu mulk se bahar chup ke chali gayi, lekin kam se kam safe thi. Ya Allah tera bohat shukar." Every sarcastic word echoed off the hard marble floors and hit Meerab straight-on.
"Maa Begum..."
"Arey nahi nahi bibi, tum ab kuch mat kaho. Hum hi tumhari is bohat araam se di huwi maalumaat ko hazam karke baith jaatay hain."
"Bhabi Begum, Meerab agar keh rahi rahi ke woh bata de gi, to mai uski baat sunna chahu ga. Rahi baat uske baghair bataye jaanay ki, woh bhi mai dekh lu ga. Aap ko kahin aur se pata chala, iske liye mai maazrat chahta hu, aisa nahi hona chahiye tha."
Meerab felt like she'd been pierced in the chest. Her Baba was apologising. For her. He had no fault in this and yet he was asking for forgiveness. Like most daughters, Meerab could take many things, but anyone coming for her Baba was like showing red to a bull.
"Waqas ab ye sirf tumhari beti nahi hain. Iss khandaan ki bahu hai aur sabse zyaada zaroori, ye Khan Murtasim ki begam hai. Mujhe Sabra ka isko Qatar mai dekhna nagawara nahi laga. Lekin iska aise jhoot bol kar mulk se bahar chalay janay ka hum kya samjhein? Ke kya chal raha hai iss larki ke dimaagh mai aur ye kis tarha ki tarbiyat hai jo isne itna bara qadam utha liya aur kisi ko khabar bhi na huwi?" Maa Begum was now seething, her voice taking on a harsh pitch.
Meerab had heard enough; her eyes burning with unshed tears and her throat choked with emotion, the last straw was her Mama and Baba's love and competence being bought into question.
"Maa Begum apko jo kehna hai aap mujhe keh sakti hain, aur jo sawal hain mai uske jawab bhi du gi, lekin aap iss tarha mere Baba se nahi baat karsaktein. Isme unki koi ghalti nahi hai." She deliberately kept her voice low and respectful; the last thing she wanted was to come off as badtameez.
"Meerab..." Waqas began but was cut off by Maa Begum's scoff.
"Bibi saari ghaltiyaan aap hi ki hain, lekin jo sab se bari ghalti hai woh humse hogayi hai. Jis din se nikkah huwa hai, mai to hairaan hu. Ab bas mujhe aur kuch nai sunna. Waqas, apni beti ko Karachi lekar jao, aur jab tak isko yahan ke tameez aur takazay nahi samajh aatay, isko wahin rakho. Waise bhi kaunsa isko ghar basanay ki jaldi hai."
Meerab saw her Mama's eyes flash as she gasped. Her Baba looked away from Maa Begum with his head hung low and told Meerab to leave. Meerab felt as if her heart was being squeezed painfully; her hostility increasing because she hadn't forgotten what this woman had tried to do to her two years ago.
"Baba ek minute. Maa Begum, mai maanti hu mai bata ke nahi gayi, lekin aapka iss tarha se Baba se baat karna bilkul theek nahi hai. Apko baat karni hai to aap mujhse karsakti hain." Her voice was heavy with frustration and unshed tears.
"Meerab chalo beta..."
"Nahi Baba, kaise chalo? Hum sab araam se baith kar, respect ke saath bhi baat kar sakte hain, is tarha tarbiyat pe aanay ka kya tuk hai?"
"Meerab maine kaha chalo, ye tumhara kaam nahi hai."
"Aur rahi baat nikkah ki, to woh mera aur Murtasim ka personal matter hai. Isme kisi ko bolnay ka haq nahi hai." Meerab wouldn't admit it in a thousand years, but how she wished Murtasim was here right now; one look from him would silence everyone.
She could see she'd just pissed off Maa Begum even more. Well, too bad. No one disrespected her Baba. Not even Khan Begum. Three voices clashed then; Maa Begum's sharp call to Waqas, Waqas's harsh demand for Meerab to leave and Meerab's loud denial. In hurried anger, Waqas grabbed Meerab's arm and yanked, causing Meerab's painful yelp to echo in the lounge. What happened next silenced every single person in the room. Waqas felt resistance as he tried to pull Meerab, his grip on Meerab's arm loosening and causing him look back.
One look at the source of resistance was enough for Waqas release his daughter's arm. With his back to Waqas and his hand holding the arm Waqas had just held, Murtasim Khan stood in-front of his wife, shielding her from the room. As Meerab gasped and shut her eyes in pain, a growl emanated from her husband's chest; her face was pink and splotchy with tears. He didn't know who had made her cry like this, but everyone in the room was going to pay for it.
Frozen in astonishment, the three elders watched as Murtasim turned around and slowly swept his gaze across each of them; his frame taut with fury, his eyes calm and alert, flashing with warning.
"Meri biwi se unchi awaaz mai baat karne ki ijaazat maine kisi ko nahi di, uski marzi ke khilaaf ussey haath lagana to bohat dur ki baat hai." Each growled word was leaden with fierce intent.
He brought Meerab forward to stand next to him, his gentle movements so at odds with the rage his body and eyes emanated.
"Aur rahi baat Meerab ke jaanay ki, to woh mere kehne pe Doha aayi thi. Maine ussey bulaya tha. Bas, ya kisi ko aur kuch poochna hai?" Clearly a rhetorical question, everyone stood silent, unsure of how to process this new information.
Standing next to him, side by side as they faced the room together, Meerab felt a strange calm take over her reeling mind and body. No one dared to question her or what was being said; Murtasim Khan had spoken.
Hello my dear readers, happy MeerAsim reading! Feedback will be much loved and appreciated.
Till next time, D xo