~Note~
1. I appreciate you reading the chapter, but before you go any further, I'd like you to please vote for it after reading it and give your thoughtful remarks. Okay, enjoy yourself..er, hehe. enjoy the emotional whirlwind that is this chapter.
2. And a chapter chock full of tears, anguish, and feelings.
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|Echoes of Kalopsia: Shattered Whispers|
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The journey to Malik's farmhouse was the epitome of pain and hardship for Murtasim. It felt like his soul was being held captive there, along with his wife. The weight of the situation had left his heart lifeless, devoid of any joy or hope.
As Murtasim approached the farmhouse, a deep sense of despair settled in his chest, causing him to sniffle and rub his weary eyes. The weight of exhaustion and emotional turmoil was etched on his face, leaving him looking rugged and worn. His stubble seemed to have grown heavy overnight, a sign of his lack of rest and the chaotic events of the past few days.
His car came to a sudden halt at the formidable main gate of the farmhouse, casting an ominous shadow over the already tense surroundings. Murtasim's men, unseen and discreet, had strategically positioned themselves around the property, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. Time was of the essence, and the stakes were high.
Murtasim's eyes frantically darted from his watch to the horizon, the seconds ticking away like a ticking time bomb. His heart pounded in his chest. The silver timepiece on his wrist mercilessly mocked him as it counted down the precious moments slipping through his fingers.
He also knew with a single press of a button, his loyal men would be at his side, ready to face any unforeseen challenges that lay ahead.
But as he sat in his car there, his gaze fixed on the distance, a mixture of weariness, determination, and a hint of fear reflected in his tired eyes. The weight of responsibility bore down on his broad shoulders, each decision he made carrying the potential to alter the course of their lives. Yet, it was not only the weight of his duty that burdened him; it was the fear for his wife that haunted his thoughts.
His mind raced with possibilities, each one more harrowing than the last. What if he failed? What if he couldn't protect her? The mere thought of harm befalling his jaan sent shivers down his spine. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he grappled with the unknown outcome that lay ahead.
He took a deep breath, gathering all the courage he could muster. With a steely resolve, he stepped out of his car and approached the farmhouse, ready to confront whatever awaited him within its walls.
His eyes meticulously scanned the pool of bodyguards of Malik within the premises. Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, his gaze locked on one figure that bore an uncanny resemblance nodding through his eyes. A silent understanding passed between them.
Without a moment's hesitation, the man initiated a bold move. With a mere flick of his wrist, he unleashed a torrent of gunfire in the direction of the decoy, intentionally avoiding any harm to Murtasim. The sudden eruption of chaos and confusion was precisely what he had aimed to achieve.
As the sound of gunshots pierced the air, the other guards were jolted out of their composure. Startled and disoriented, they instantly began to scatter in different directions, their instincts kicking in to protect their charge. In the midst of the commotion, the man's voice rose above the tumult, shouting, "Murtasim's men are here!" His words served as a masterful directive, guiding the panicked guards to disperse and search in various directions.
Murtasim's loyal men, now disguised as Malik's guards, wasted no time in seizing him and forcefully leading him towards Malik. The tension in the room was thick, but their unwavering expressions concealed any signs of fear or apprehension.
As Murtasim surveyed the situation, he took in the sight of his loyal men shouting, "Saab, he has come!" Their voices echoed through the hall, alerting everyone to his presence. Malik Zubair, accompanied by his two bodyguards, Rohail, stood before them, wearing a snarly smirk on their faces. "So Romeo is here!" Malik jeered, his voice laced with amusement.
Murtasim's countenance hardened as he locked eyes with Malik Zubair. His gaze narrowed, and with a voice filled with determination, he spoke through gritted teeth. "Take the documents and release my wife, Meerab," he demanded.
Malik, unfazed by the urgency in Murtasim's voice, responded with a smirk. "Why the rush?" he taunted. "Let's savor some snacks and engage in a little conversation before we delve into business." His words hung in the air.
Murtasim's knuckles turned white as he tightly clenched his fists, his anger boiling inside him. With a forceful spit, he released his frustration, demanding, "Where is Meerab? I am not here to engage in childish games!"
Malik, who had been smirking confidently moments ago, suddenly lost his composure. His face drained of color, revealing his fear. Determined to maintain a facade of bravery, he extended his hand towards the stack of papers, asserting, "Hand them over." Murtasim's eyes pierced through Malik with contempt as he declared, "Not until Meerab is standing right in front of me."
Malik sneered, taking a step closer to Murtasim, his voice laced with menace. "I will reveal the whereabouts of your precious Meerab once you grant me one more favor," he snarled. Murtasim, seething with rage, asked through gritted teeth, "And what might that be?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Murtasim lunged forward, tightly gripping Malik's throat. The other bodyguards sprang into action, attempting to separate the two, but Murtasim's speed caught them off guard. Pressing Malik against the wall, he roared, "Tell me where she is now, or your miserable life will come to an abrupt end!" Malik's face turned ashen, his breaths coming in desperate gasps. Finally, with a croak, he surrendered, "Fine."
Tension hung heavy in the air. Malik's piercing gaze locked on Murtasim. His voice filled the room as he gestured towards Rohail. "Do you not see Rohail here?" he asked. His words were laced with poison.
Murtasim's eyes narrowed as they landed on Rohail, his presence causing a sudden shift in the atmosphere. His facial expression changed, a mixture of surprise and disbelief etched across his features. He couldn't comprehend the truth that lay before him.
With an explosive surge of fury, Murtasim bellowed, his voice reverberating through the room, "How dare you! Were you also behind all this?" His words, dripping with accusation, hung in the tense silence, his anger radiating palpably.
Rohail quivered under the overwhelming weight of Murtasim's wrath. Before he could even muster a single word, Malik swiftly reached out and firmly patted his trembling shoulder, offering a reassuring presence. "Don't worry, I'm here," Malik whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the storm of Murtasim's heightened anger.
Turning his attention back to Murtasim, Malik's eyes filled with a steely resolve. He knew that he held the upper hand. "Meerab is being held at my estate, far from here," he declared, his voice dripping with a sense of calculated power. "I will release her if you give me what I want."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the tension between the two men reaching its peak. Each word spoken carried the weight of the rivalry of their past, the enmity of their present, and their uncertain future.
Murtasim's eyes blazed with fury as he gritted his teeth, struggling to contain his rising anger. The room was thick with tension. His voice was filled with a mixture of frustration and desperation as he confronted Zubair.
"Then why did you call me here if she is not here?" Murtasim's voice quivered with restrained rage. Every word dripped with accusation, his frustration simmering just below the surface. He took a step forward, his gaze locked onto Zubair, who nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot.
Zubair attempted to feign nonchalance, but the dark fire in Murtasim's eyes told a different story. Malik could sense the mounting danger, and fear washed over him like a tidal wave. He stumbled backward, his voice trembling as he tried to respond.
"Murtasim, please, calm down," Malik pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. But his words fell on deaf ears as Murtasim's blood boiled within him, his patience reaching its breaking point.
Once again, Murtasim lunged forward, his movements fueled by a surge of adrenaline. His hand closed around Malik's throat with an iron grip, cutting off his air supply. The room was consumed by the cacophony of choking gasps, a mixture of desperation. Malik's face turned pale, his eyes bulging with terror, a silent plea for mercy.
Murtasim's voice, now transformed into a venomous growl, reverberated through the room like a thunderclap, shattering every silence in its wake. Each word he uttered dripped with anger and desperation, sending shivers down the spines of everyone present. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice piercing the air like a dagger.
His grip tightened around Malik's throat, veins popping on his forehead as he stared into the depths of his terrified eyes. The tension was suffocating. Malik's voice was strained, his vocal cords constricted by Murtasim's vice-like grip. He fought against suffocating fear, struggling to find words amidst the chaos.
"Rohail," he managed to croak, his voice barely audible, a mere whisper in the face of impending doom. "Bring me the papers!" The urgency in his tone was undeniable, a desperate plea for salvation. Rohail nodded, his eyes wide with fear. In a swift motion, he bolted out of the room, his footsteps echoing ominously in the dimly lit hallway.
The room was left in a state of suspense, the tension lingering in the air like a heavy fog. Murtasim's rage hung heavily, threatening to consume everything in its path. As the seconds ticked by, the silence was shattered only by the sound of Murtasim's heavy breaths, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked within his soul.
Murtasim's eyes burned with intense hatred as he maintained his unyielding grip on Malik's throat. The air hung heavy with tension as Malik struggled to breathe.
The guards, who had been standing by, watching the altercation unfold, did nothing to intervene. None of them seemed to care as Malik's voice strained and his breathing grew more shallow.
.....
Murtasim stood frozen, his hands trembling as he clutched the stack of papers before him. The weight of the world seemed to bear down on him, suffocating every ounce of hope and happiness he had left. The words on those pages were like daggers to his already broken heart - divorce papers.
With a mix of desperation and fury, Murtasim began to read the contents of the document. Each word pierced his soul, tearing him apart from the inside out. The reality of the situation sank in. His Meerab, the very essence of his existence, was at stake. The sheer thought of losing her sent shock waves of rage coursing through his veins. Murtasim's eyes met Malik's. Only unbridled fury radiated from his gaze.
Through gritted teeth, Murtasim shouted, his voice laced with a venomous mixture of anger and disbelief "Are you out of your mind..you bastard? You actually expect me to sign this? To surrender my Meerab, the love of my life?" The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of shattered dreams and broken promises.
Malik, unmoved by Murtasim's outburst, held his ground. A cold, calculated expression adorned his face as he stared back, seemingly unaffected by the turmoil he had unleashed. "Sign it," he said, his voice dripping with a sinister calmness. "And Meerab will be safe and sound back in her home."
The audacity of Malik's proposition only fueled Murtasim's rage further. How dare he think that such a trade-off was acceptable? The fire in Murtasim's eyes burned brighter, fueled by a love that refused to be extinguished. He would fight tooth and nail to protect the woman he cherished above all else.
"Malik, stay within your limits!" he shouted, lunging forward with a clenched fist. He grabbed Malik's collar in his grip, his face contorted in rage. "Don't you dare think you can trade away her freedom like a commodity? I'll chop your tongue if you dare to speak another word, you rascal!" he spat, his voice echoing through the room. Rohail, though afraid, tried speaking, "Sign it... if you want what's best for Meerab, give her the divorce." Murtasim's fury burned brighter than ever before. He was about to lunge at Rohail.
Before Murtasim could react to Malik's audacity, a chill ran down his spine. But before he could gather his thoughts, a shrill familiar sound resonated through the dimly lit hallway, slicing through the tense silence like a knife.
"No, Murtasim, no!" He could hear the voice echoing in his ears as it bounced off the walls. As Murtasim glanced up and heard the voice that his heart recognized, his heart missed a beat and his eyes widened in shock. He could see his wife Meerab approaching him in the distance. Her once worn-out and tormented visage was now glistening with a sense of liberation.
Her eyes, brimming with tears, never left Murtasim's. The hallway echoed with her sobs, filling the room with an emotional intensity.
Meerab's hair flowed behind her like a dark, tousled river as she sprinted towards her husband. The sight of her, liberated from the clutches of captivity, stirred something deep within Murtasim's soul. It was as if time had slowed down, and every second felt like an eternity as she closed the distance between them.
He felt her presence wash over him like a wave of warmth, and his heart swelled with joy he hadn't felt in years.
But as Meerab neared him, Murtasim noticed two figures in black chasing after her.
What had Meerab endured during her time in captivity?
Suddenly, the hallway seemed to shrink, suffocating him in its oppressive atmosphere. The air grew heavy with tension, and Murtasim's breath caught in his throat. He could no longer contain the mix of emotions welling up inside him. With a gasp, he whispered her name, his voice filled with a mix of relief, fear, and overwhelming love.
"Meerab..."
Murtasim's eyes widened, a mixture of anguish and anger flooding his senses as the realization hit him like a thunderbolt. Malik had deceived him, lying about Meerab not being present. The lie cut deep, fueling a fire within Murtasim that threatened to consume him.
His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythmic thud echoing in his ears as he watched the two women giving chase to Meerab. She ran towards him, desperation etched on her face, her eyes searching for solace in his embrace. Murtasim was on the verge of reaching out, of running towards her, when suddenly, an excruciating pain seared through his back.
Stumbling forward, his body convulsed with the impact of the unexpected blow. The world seemed to spin around him, his vision blurred with a haze of confusion. As he fought to regain his balance, his gaze fell upon the source of his agony. Malik stood there, a malevolent smirk twisting his face, a gun aimed unwaveringly at Meerab's head.
Horror coursed through Murtasim's veins, freezing him in his tracks. His eyes never wavered from Meerab's frightened expression, his heart pleading for it to be just a nightmare, for a chance to rewrite this nightmare.
Meerab's eyes were wide with terror. Her mouth opened with a silent scream. He wanted to shout out, to tell her to run, but his voice caught in his throat. Sparks flew from the ceiling as Malik carelessly fired off a few shots, causing plaster to rain down on the terrified couple. He could feel his own fear and anger rising up within him. The tension in the air was as thick as the smoke from Malik's barrel. He watched in horror as Malik cocked the trigger, his finger slowly squeezing it.
Murtasim's anger boiled over as he glared at Malik with a ferocity he didn't know he had. His breath was heavy and ragged, and his eyes burned with rage. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and he felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.
With an intense fury burning inside him, Murtasim's sole desire was to tear Malik apart using only his bare hands. His jaw clenched tightly, he forcefully bellowed, his voice dripping with anger, "Malik, what in the world do you think you're doing? Release her immediately!" A malevolent smirk spread across Malik's face, his satisfaction evident as he retorted, "Unless you sign the papers, she will meet her demise." The palpable rage within Murtasim was almost tangible, his body radiating with a scorching heat.
How dare Malik threaten Murtasim's heart with such a sinister ultimatum!
He could feel his heart breaking. The pain of his wife at the hands of his enemy was too much to bear. His soul was crying out in anguish and his emotions were threatening to rip him apart.
"No!" Murtasim's voice reverberated through the confined space, sending shock waves of anger and defiance. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, fueling the flames of his fury. How dare Malik lay a hand on her, treating her as a mere object to be possessed? Murtasim's eyes burned with an intensity that could scorch the very soul of his adversary.
"Let her go!" Murtasim's thunderous words echoed, shaking the air around them. The weight of his demand hung heavily in the room, suffocating every breath. Malik's smug smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. It was a stark realization that his power over Murtasim's love was not as absolute as he had presumed.
But Malik's arrogance soon resurfaced, revealing his true colors. "Sign the papers, or I'll kill her," he taunted, his voice laced with a sickening blend of malice and satisfaction.
Meerab's voice trembled, barely audible, but filled with a desperate plea. "No, Murtasim, don't sign it!" Her words hung in the suffocating silence.
Murtasim turned his gaze towards her, his expression betraying a mixture of uncertainty and determination. Meerab's tears began streaming down her face as she pleaded with Murtasim, her desperation painfully obvious.
His hand hovered over the button on his watch, a decision weighing heavily on his mind. He made up his mind. With a resolute click, he activated the hidden mechanism.
In an instant, the once-silent hallway erupted with a mixture of sounds. The sharp, unmistakable sound of boots echoed through the air, reverberating off the walls. Murtasim's men materialized seemingly out of thin air, emerging from the shadows.
Their arrival was swift and calculated, catching Malik off guard. In the blink of an eye, he found himself pinned down, his body restrained by the firm grip of several men. They held him in place, their strength overpowering any resistance he might have mustered.
Murtasim stepped forward and grabbed the gun from Malik's hand, sending a hard kick to his stomach that elicited a grunt from him.
Then he moved to face Meerab, his steps fierce and quick, a silent threat of vengeance in every step. Meerab was trembling with fear, her body shaking uncontrollably as he approached. He embraced her, whispering her sweet words while briefly forgetting the intensity of the occasion. A sob-like whimper escaped their lips as Meerab broke down in his arms, her tears a proof of the harrowing ordeal they had just endured.
After Murtasim's men had hauled Malik Zubair away, the scene was strangely calm.
Meerab nodded against his chest, her body still trembling from the shock of what had just happened. She allowed the warmth of his embrace to wash over her, feeling her fear beginning to dissipate as she felt safe and loved in his arms. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Meerab could feel the warmth of his embrace, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she felt safe. She clung to him, her body still trembling from the overwhelming emotions. She looked up at him, her eyes still filled with tears. "I knew you'd come," she said, her voice soft..trembling. Murtasim smiled down at her, a tender expression on his face. He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears. "It's okay now. I'm here..and I am so sorry for everything..please forgive me" he said, his voice gentle and pleading.
He reached down and brushed the hair away from her face, a gesture of comfort and assurance. Meerab looked up at him, her eyes still filled with tears. She nodded against his chest, her body still trembling from the shock of what had just happened. "I know," she said softly, her voice wavering. "We can't go back and change the past, but I'm so glad we have each other now. Let's not make the same mistakes again."
Tears began to well in his own eyes as he held Meerab tightly in his arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and gratefulness so profound for the first time in his life. This profound moment of understanding and connection transcended all the chaos and fear they had experienced in the past.
Time seemed to stand still as Murtasim held Meerab close, his heart racing and his mind frantically searching for ways to protect her. He was vaguely aware of the loud sound of the gunshot echoing through the hallway, but his focus was on Meerab.
He felt her body go limp in his arms and his heart sank as he heard her whimper, the sound of pain and fear piercing through him. He looked up to see Rohail standing at the end of the hallway with a gun in his hand, a look of triumph on his face. Murtasim felt a hot liquid drip onto his hand and he slowly saw the deep red color of blood. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what had happened
He wanted to lunge forward and attack Rohail, but his focus remained on Meerab. In a daze, Murtasim felt like he was in a nightmare. Everything seemed hazy and surreal. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, unable to react or move forward. A deep sense of dread and despair washed over him as he looked at her, her body limp in his arms. He wanted to scream and cry out, but nothing came out of his mouth.
He looked down at Meerab's face and saw her hazy eyes, her hair sticking to her face as she let out a painful whimper. He felt a wave of shock and horror wash over him as he realized what had happened. He hand trembled and touched her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin.
Murtasim's heart shattered into a thousand pieces as he gazed Meerab's face, witnessing the sheer terror and agony reflected in them. He delicately placed his hand on her cheek, his touch providing a fleeting moment of solace amidst the chaos. With a trembling voice, he whispered, "Meerab, Meerab... Meerab... Jaan, no... no."
Slowly, Meerab's eyelids fluttered open, revealing the depths of her fear and pain. Her voice was barely a whisper as she let out a faint, "Ahhhhh..." Struggling to gather her words, she stammered, "I want... to tell you something... listen to me..." Her voice trailed off, as if the weight of her confession was too heavy to bear.
Murtasim's heart skipped a beat, anticipation mingling with his own anguish. "You will be fine," he managed to say, his voice laced with desperation. "But not like this. We have a whole lifetime to discuss this. Wait for me, please."
Tears cascaded down Murtasim's face, mirroring the torrent of emotions surging through his soul. Holding Meerab close, he whispered words of comfort into her ear, his voice barely audible amidst the deafening silence of their shared pain. Time seemed to stand still as they clung to each other, their bodies entwined in a desperate embrace.
Meerab summoned every ounce of strength to breathe life into her next words. Blood oozed from the corners of her mouth. With each painful gasp, she struggled to form the words she longed to express. And finally, she managed to utter, "I love you, Murtasim."
Murtasim's breath hitched in his chest, his heart throbbing with a mixture of joy and sorrow. It was as if the confession of love that was meant to be the sweetest of joys was instead being wrung out of Meerab in a torrent of tears and pain, her emotions so deep and intense that it felt like a physical wound.
Murtasim's eyes were red from tears as he looked upon Meerab's pain, his expression a mix of anguish, sorrow, and love.
As he cradled her, Meerab let out a painful giggle as she said sadly, almost lifelessly, "Give love a second chance, even if I die..." Murtasim painfully shook his head and said, "No, Meerab, please don't say that. Just be quiet now." He wiped away her tears and held her close, trying to soothe her with comforting words and moments of tenderness. He whispered in her ear, "Love will always find a way, even if it's too late for us. Even if it has emerged like that, it has because it was meant to survive. Love will never die, no matter the circumstances, and it will always remain strong."
Rohail's voice reverberated through the air, carrying a sense of madness as he bellowed, "If I am not deserving of happiness, then neither are you two!" His words hung in the tense atmosphere, a chilling reminder of the animosity that had consumed their lives.
Rohail raised his gun, pointing it directly at Murtasim. Reacting with lightning speed, Murtasim reached for his own weapon, leveling it at Rohail in a dangerous standoff.
Just as Murtasim was about to pull the trigger, Rohail fired another shot. The bullet hurtled through the air, its deadly trajectory aimed straight at Murtasim. However the shot that should have struck Murtasim veered off course, hurtling dangerously close to Meerab. In a split second, Murtasim spun around, throwing himself in harm's way to shield her from one more bullet's deadly impact. A searing pain ripped through his arm as the bullet sliced his shoulder, leaving a deep wound just above his clavicle.
As the chaos unfolded, Meerab's voice pierced the air, a desperate whimper filled with fear and agony. Murtasim's eyes flickered open, only to witness Meerab collapsing beside him with a heavy thud. Her eyes closed and her mouth contorted in pain, a tragic consequence of their tumultuous encounter.
The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of Meerab's labored breathing.
Murtasim's heart raced as he watched Meerab's condition deteriorate before his eyes. Every second felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with anguish and desperation. He could feel his own breath becoming labored, matching the rhythm of Meerab's struggle for life.
With tears streaming down his face, Murtasim's voice quivered as he pleaded for help. "Save her!" he stammered, his words interrupted by pauses and gasps for air. "Please, someone, get her to a doctor! She needs help urgently!"
Despite the overwhelming fear and sorrow that consumed him, Murtasim refused to lose hope. He locked eyes with Meerab, desperately seeking the response, a lifeline between their souls. "Meerab, look at me!" he pleaded, his voice barely audible, on the verge of breaking. "Stay with me! Please don't go!"
His grip tightened on her hand as if he could will life back into her fragile body. His anguish deepened.
"Meerab, look at me," he whispered again, his voice filled with love and desperation. "I love you...please don't leave me. Stay with me, fight for us." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their shared memories and dreams for the future.
Meerab's eyes fought opening up and gazed sideways at Murtasim, her eyes heavy with sorrow and pain. With each passing second, the light in her eyes grew dimmer, as if she was surrendering to the inevitable.
Her voice trembled, a mix of pain and longing, as she struggled to find the right words to express her feelings."I...I love you too, Murtasim," she finally managed to say, her voice barely audible. "I...I never truly comprehended the depth of my feelings until this very moment." Her words were filled with a sense of realization, as if she had finally come to terms with the intensity of her love for him.
Tears streamed down her face as her voice softened. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice filled with regret. "I'm sorry for all the time we wasted, the moments we never got to share, and the things we will never get to do together."
As she spoke, a sense of regret and remorse overcame her. "This month of our marriage has been the epitome of happiness in my life," she confessed, her voice filled with a touch of sadness. "But it's also been marred by my shortcomings. I'm filled with remorse for all the anguish I've inflicted on you."
"I'm sorry for failing to be the wife you deserve..." Her voice trailed off, a mixture of guilt and pain evident in her words. "Umpph...p.p.p..please find it in your heart to forgive me."
Meerab's love for Murtasim was immeasurable, and she wanted him to know that. "The love I hold for you... it will endure forever," she whispered, her voice filled with a deep sense of sincerity. "This might me harsh but I can't m..m..miss the chance to say good bye to you so..G..Goodbye... perhaps we shall reunite in the afterlife."
Murtasim's face contorted with pain and anguish. He wanted to scream out his anger, but he found himself unable to utter a single word. He clenched his fist tightly, his heart aching with unbearable pain. He wanted to tell her to stop, to cease her words, but he could not bring himself to say it. He felt his heart breaking as he listened to her, and he wanted to make it stop. He wanted to deny her words, to tell her that she was wrong, but he could not bring himself to do so.
Meerab's face engraved a flimsy grin, masking the intense suffering she was experiencing within. She pleaded with him while feeling heartbroken, "I want you, give love another chance, even after I am gone."
Murtasim, however, couldn't stand to hear any more. He was unable to endure the pain and discomfort it brought to him. He shut Meerab down in anguish, unwilling to believe what she had spoken. He continued, his voice trembling, "Meerab, you're talking rubbish. You'll stay with me, I promise."
He shouted in pain, "Bakhtu! Where are you? Help us!" His eyes started to close as he felt his slowed heartbeat drumming in his ear. Meerab lay motionless beside him, her hand still held tightly to his. Murtasim could feel his breath becoming more labored, and he knew his time also was running out.
Suddenly, he heard Bakhtu's panic-filled voice. "Saab Malik, Rohail, and the others have been arrested. You two will be fine now. Please..P..P..Please don't worry. Please hold on I'll take care of everything."
In a weak voice, Murtasim managed to utter, "Bakhtu, please hurry. We can't hold on much longer. The pain... it's unbearable." His words were barely audible, a mere whisper in the chaos that surrounded them.
Murtasim's vision started to blur as he watched the two men forcefully dragging Rohail and Malik out of the hallway. Their voices echoed down the corridor, mixing with the chaos that surrounded them. The sound of distant sirens reached his ears, signaling the arrival of help, yet it felt far away, like a mere echo in his dazed state.
A rush of people surrounded him, their figures merging into an indistinct blur. Murtasim struggled to stay conscious, but the excruciating pain shooting through his body made it nearly impossible. Each breath became a battle as he fought to keep his eyes open, desperately trying to make sense of the disorienting scene unfolding before him.
He became vaguely aware of the paramedics arriving, their presence announced by the blaring sirens and flashing lights. Their hurried movements and urgent voices filled the air, creating an atmosphere of chaos and urgency. The sound of their footsteps and the echo of their conversations blended together into an incoherent cacophony, overwhelming his senses.
Through the haze, he caught glimpses of the paramedics working swiftly and efficiently, their trained hands maneuvering with precision. They approached Meerab's lifeless body with a sense of urgency, their focus unwavering. As they gently lifted her onto the stretcher, a surge of desperation welled up within him, compelling him to protest. But his voice was feeble, drowned out by the pounding of his own weakening heartbeat.
Murtasim's hands grew tighter around Meerab's as he yearned for comfort from her contact. The heat from her hand gave him a little moment of relief from the searing agony that felt like it would swallow him. It was a tiny comfort, a ray of optimism amid the shadows all around him. However, her fingers slipped from of his grasp as the paramedics quickly carried her away, leaving him feeling very bereaved.
The weight of his own body became unbearable, dragging him further into the abyss of darkness that engulfed his being. The world around him blurred, the sounds fading into a distant hum. He felt himself being pulled deeper into the depths, the pain and sorrow threatening to consume him entirely.
Time was suspended. The paramedics' confusion and the gravity of the situation all seemed insignificant. The void created by Meerab's absence and an overpowering sense of grief were all that were left. His mind drifted to the warmth of her touch, the love they'd had, and the memories that would live on in his heart forever as he began to fade into the dark hours.
As the world around him continued its chaotic dance, Murtasim's voice whimpered, barely audible, "M...m... Meerab jaani... don't leave me." The words escaped his lips, a plea filled with vulnerability and fear, before everything faded away into a haze of blurred memories and engulfing pain.
*********
The premises of the hospital were filled with a choas of sirens and wheels rolling, as two motionless individuals were being rushed in on stretchers. The white building of the hospital buzzed with activity, as nurses and doctors swarmed around the patients, their faces etched with worry. The white stretchers were stained with blood, one more than the other, indicating the severity of their injuries.
The hushed whispers and murmurs of people echoed through the hallways, spreading the news of what had transpired. It was revealed that the patients Murtasim and Meerab, had been shot. Meerab's condition was far more critical, as she had suffered two gunshot wounds to her back, causing significant internal and external bleeding. Meerab had been shot in the back, and the bullet had passed just beside her spinal chord.
The nurses gathered around Meerab, assessing her condition with a sense of urgency. One of them reported her vital signs to the attending doctors. Meerab's blood pressure was dangerously low at 80/50 mm Hg, and her pulse rate was rapid, reaching 130 beats per minute. The medical team worked swiftly to stabilize her, administering intravenous fluids and preparing for emergency surgery to repair the damage.
Meanwhile, another nurse attended to Murtasim, who had been shot in his clavicle. The vital signs reflected the trauma he had endured. His blood pressure was slightly elevated at 140/90 mmHg, and his pulse rate was 110 beats per minute. The medical team carefully examined the wound, ensuring there were no additional complications.
The doctors discussed treatment options, labs were ordered, and imaging studies were scheduled.
Outside the hospital, Bakhtu dealt with the formalities of the situation. He dialed Ma Begum, Murtasim's mother, and informed her of the unfortunate events that had transpired. As he spoke on the phone, his voice filled with concern and worry.
*********
The air was heavy with the weight of his existence hanging in the balance. As the doctors prepared to remove a bullet from his body, Murtasim's mind succumbed to the chaos of his subconscious, plunging him into a nightmare. It was a dream that would haunt him, leaving him gasping for breath in reality, as his heart teetered on the edge of life and death.
The room was dimly lit, with the sterile smell of antiseptic hanging in the air. Murtasim's body was laid out on the operating table, his chest exposed, revealing the scars of his recent encounter. The doctors, donned in their surgical attire, rushed around, their voices filled with urgency.
Dr. Saim and Dr. Masood both had a sense of urgency as they prepared for the procedure. "We need to extract the bullet quickly," Dr. Saim said, her voice strained. "His condition is deteriorating rapidly." Dr. Masood nodded in agreement, his face grim. "Prepare the patient for surgery," he said gruffly.
As the doctors prepared for the procedure, Murtasim's mind slipped into the depths of his nightmare....
....
He found himself standing on a majestic mountain, the wind howling through the peaks and whipping his hair around his face. The crisp air filled his lungs, invigorating his senses as he held his wife Meerabb's hand tightly. The sun, hanging low in the sky, bathed them in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows across the rugged terrain. The world seemed to pause, as if nature itself was in awe of their love and their kalopsia.
But as they ventured further, a sense of unease began to creep into the dreamlike ambiance. The once clear path became shrouded in a thick, swirling fog that clung to their bodies, obscuring their vision. Murtasim's grip on Meerab's hand faltered, his palms growing clammy with anxiety. His heart raced, pounding like a drum in his chest, as his mind struggled to comprehend the sudden loss of clarity and direction.
With desperation in his voice, Murtasim pleaded, his words carrying through the dense mist, "Please, stay with me! Don't leave me here alone. We're so close, I can see the peak. We can make it together!" But his words hung in the air, unanswered, swallowed by the eerie silence that enveloped them. Meerab's grip on his hand loosened, her fingers slipping away one by one, until she was gone, swallowed up by the fog that seemed to devour her presence.
Time stood still for a moment, as Murtasim stood frozen, paralyzed by the sudden emptiness that surrounded him. He let out a single, anguished cry, a cry that echoed off the mountainside, reverberating through the vastness of the landscape. The mountains seemed to echo his pain, their towering peaks bearing witness to his heartbreak.
As Murtasim watched Meerab disappear into the depths of the fog, a profound sense of loss washed over him. The world around him became a blur, the once vibrant colors fading into shades of gray. The mountain that once stood as a symbol of beauty and triumph now felt like a prison, trapping him in sorrow and despair.
With tears streaming down his face, Murtasim fell to his knees, his body trembling with grief. The wind howled around him, carrying his sorrow into the vast expanse of the mountain range.
As he stood there, stunned, blood dripped from his trembling hands, staining the pristine white snow beneath his feet. The vivid red against the pristine backdrop painted a haunting image of despair. Murtasim's anguish intensified, pain coursing through his veins. Murtasim's anguish-filled shouts echoed off the mountainside as he watched the blood in his hands turn to daisy flowers. The daisies were in stark contrast to the haunting image of despair he had painted on the pristine backdrop of the mountains.
....
The dream abruptly shifted, transporting him to an operating room. Murtasim's body convulsed uncontrollably on the cold, sterile table. Each spasm caused his breath to grow shallow and ragged. The monitor beside him beeped erratically, displaying the erratic line of his faltering heartbeat.
Frantic voices filled the room,"His vitals are dropping! We need to stabilize him, now!" The medical staff scrambled, their hands moving with practiced precision."Increase the dosage of anesthesia. We have to finish the procedure quickly," their voice laced with urgency.
Murtasim caught glimpses of Meerab, lost and unreachable. She appeared as a mere mirage, fading in and out of his vision. His heart yearned to reach out to her, to bring her back into his embrace, but she remained like a cruel illusion taunting his pain.
As Murtasim's physical condition deteriorated, the dream and reality intertwined, blurring the boundaries between his subconscious and conscious mind. The sterile walls of the operating room seemed to melt away, revealing a hazy landscape that mirrored his internal struggles. The sound of medical equipment merged with distant whispers, echoing the turmoil within his psyche.
Despite the chaos surrounding him, Murtasim's thoughts remained fixated on Meerab. She was the only sign of hope in his darkest moments, the one who brought light to his existence.
"We need to stabilize him, now!" shouted one of the doctors. "His vitals are still dropping!"another doctor said. "It's not working. We're dealing with a subclavian artery injury here," one of the doctors said. "We need to act quickly. We need to perform an emergent anterolateral thoracotomy," he continued.
He shouted at the medical staff. "Prepare the necessary instruments and get ready to make an incision over the third intercostal space. We need to do this quickly. Move!"
.....
But Meerab remained just out of reach, an elusive figure in the labyrinth of his consciousness. Her form flickered like a distant star, teasing him with brief glimpses before disappearing into the void. Murtasim's desperation grew with each passing moment, fueling his determination to find her, to bring her back from the cosmical black hole that held her captive.
Murtasim clung to the image of Meerab, a lifeline in the chaos. He drew strength from the memories they shared, the love they cherished, and the promises they made. With each convulsion, he fought not only for his own survival but also for the chance to be reunited with her, to hold her in his arms once more.
********
A weed of grief and shock passed through Ma Begum as her phone slipped from her trembling hand and plummeted to the floor. The sound of its impact reverberated through the room, magnifying the weight of the moment. Overwhelmed by all of it, Ma Begum instinctively clutched her chest and collapsed onto the unforgiving surface beneath her.
Reacting quickly to her mother's distress, Maryam rushed to her side, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Ma saa kya hua?"
(What happened?)
Tears welled up in Ma Begum's eyes, streaming down her face as she struggled to find the words to convey her anguish. "Ya Allah..Ya Allah..mere bacche..." Her voice trailed off into a heart-wrenching sob, unable to adequately express the depth of her pain.
Maryam pleaded with desperation, "Tell me Ma, what happened?" Anwar and Waqas, their faces etched with shock and confusion, burst into the living hall, followed closely by Anila, a look of disbelief etched upon her features. Sensing the chaos unfolding, Haya emerged from her room, her own expression mirroring the others. The air in the room felt thick with tension, as Ma Begum's anguished cries filled the space.
Ma Begum let out a heart-rending cry, her voice filled with raw anguish, "..M-M-Meerab and M-Murtasim...t-t-they've b-been shot...." Ma Begum stammered in gibberish, her words incoherent and unintelligible, her body wracked with sobs as she tried to convey the news. The room fell into stunned silence, a collective gasp escaping from everyone's lips. Their faces drained of color, a mixture of pain and disbelief etched upon their features.
Anila's voice quivered as she desperately asked, "What happened!!?" The air was thick with tension as the family struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy that had befallen them. Anila let out a sob, and Waqas rushed to her side. He held her close, tears streaming down his face. He was unable to comprehend the tragedy that had befallen his daughter and son-in-law, and all he could do was utter a broken, "Anila, samabhalo." Haya's face drained of all colour as a gut-wrenching cry escaped her lips. She acted like a maniac, her hands shaking as she wiped away her tears, muttering, "Mera Murtasim..."
Maryam held Ma Begum close as Anwar raced to take out the car.
Ma Begum's voice trembled with fear and shock as she pleaded, "Take me to the city hospital now!" Her desperate words reverberated through the room, shattering the stunned silence that had gripped everyone.
The scene that followed that was a tumultuous mix of cries, chaos, and disbelief. Each family member present was caught in the grip of overwhelming emotions, their faces etched with a blend of shock, despair, and confusion. The air was heavy with an indescribable sense of apathy and devastation.
As they made their way to the hospital, their lips quivered with unspoken words. Ma Begum's trembling voice barely managed to form a whisper, "Ya, please let them be okay." Anila, her voice choked with tears, murmured, "I can't believe this..My child..ahh..Bhai Sahab drive faster".
Maryam, her own eyes brimming with tears, squeezed her mother's hand in reassurance.
Anila, her mind racing, felt the weight of the unknown pressing upon her. In a hushed voice, she murmured, "How did this happen? Why them? It's just too much to bear." Her words hung in the air, a desperate plea for answers that seemed impossible to find.
As they reached the hospital, Ma Begum's voice trembled as she called Bakhtu, desperately seeking information about Meerab and Murtasim's condition. "Bakhtu, please tell me they will be okay," she pleaded, her voice filled with anguish.
As Anwar and Waqas hurried towards Bakhtu, their faces grew even paler, reflecting their desperation. Anxiety gripped their hearts as they urgently sought information. "Where are Meerab and Murtasim? What is their condition? Tell us, Bakhtu!" Anwar's voice trembled with fear as he pleaded for answers. "Please, tell us what is happening!"
Bakhtu responded urgently, "They are being operated on." His voice carried the weight of the unknown, adding to the tension that hung in the air.
"Maalik andar hain," Bakhtu continued, pointing down the hallway, "and Meerab bibi is down the corridor." Anila's heart raced as she dashed down the corridor, her motherly instincts driving her to find her daughter. Waqas and Anwar followed closely behind, their eyes wide with worry, fearing what they might discover.
Meanwhile, Ma Begum's voice quivered as she called out to Bakhtu, desperately seeking reassurance. "How is Murtasim? Is he okay?" Her voice was filled with both hope and trepidation, clinging to the possibility of good news.
"We don't know yet," Bakhtu replied, his voice strained with uncertainty. "We just have to wait for the doctors to tell us."
Maryam sat on a chair, her eyes filled with fear and tears, unable to escape the weight of the situation. Haya stood by her side, her face strangely pale. Her hands trembled as she nervously twisted her dupatta between her fingers, the physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.
Meanwhile, Ma Begum's voice quivered as she called out to Bakhtu, desperately seeking reassurance. "How is Murtasim? Is he okay?" Her voice was filled with both hope and trepidation, clinging to the possibility of good news.
"We don't know yet," Bakhtu replied, his voice strained with uncertainty. "We just have to wait for the doctors to tell us."
Maryam sat on a chair, her eyes filled with fear and tears, unable to escape the weight of the situation. Haya stood by her side, her face strangely pale. Her hands trembled as she nervously twisted her dupatta between her fingers, the physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.
After what felt like an eternity, the heavy doors of the operating theater swung open, revealing a weary-looking doctor clad in scrubs. The anxious family members, still clutching onto glimmers of hope, turned their attention towards him, their eyes filled with anticipation.
The doctor approached Ma Begum and Maryam, his voice carrying a mix of relief and professionalism. "Alhamdulillah, the surgery went well," he began, his words laced with a hint of exhaustion. "We were able to successfully remove the bullet and control the injuries. Murtasim is now stable."
A wave of relief washed over Ma Begum as she clasped her hands together, tears of gratitude replacing the ones of despair that had stained her face just moments ago. Maryam, her eyes shining with gratitude, gently squeezed her mother's shoulder.
The doctor continued, his tone reassuring yet cautious. "However, Murtasim will need some time to recover in the Intensive Care Unit. He will be transferred there soon, and once he is settled, the family will be allowed to see him."
He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "It's important to note that it may take a few hours for him to regain consciousness. The anesthesia needs to wear off, and we want to ensure his vital signs stabilize before we allow any visitors. Rest assured, we will keep a close eye on him, and as soon as he is awake and ready, we will inform you."
Ma Begum nodded, a mixture of relief and apprehension etched on her face.
As the doctor left to attend to other patients, the family remained seated, their hearts filled with a renewed sense of faith.
Together, they clasped their hands, offering fervent prayers for Murtasim's speedy recovery and now hoping to hear the same about Meerab.
*********
Anila anxiously sat on the chair outside the operating theater (OT), her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of worry pressing down on her as she waited for any news about her daughter, Meerab. Her face had lost all color, and she looked pale and fragile. It seemed like she would pass out at any moment.
Besides her, Waqas held her hand tightly, his own eyes filled with tears. He silently prayed for Meerab's safety, his lips moving in silent pleas.
Anwar paced back and forth in anger. His voice raised as he spoke on the phone. He was talking to police officers, urging them to ensure that Rohail, Malik Zubair, and every other person faced the worst consequences for their actions.
The doors of the operating theater burst open, causing Anila and Waqas to snap their heads towards the entrance. A medical professional emerged, his face filled with tension and weariness. Their hearts raced as they looked at the doctor, hoping desperately for some positive news.
As he took a deep breath, the doctor's voice quivered slightly, adding an undertone of uncertainty to his words. "The bullets have been successfully removed from Meerab's body," he began, his voice hanging in the air, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "However, she has lost a significant amount of blood," he continued, his tone filled with concern, further heightening the sense of urgency. "We have her on saline now, but we will need to administer blood through an intravenous line to replenish her blood volume."
Anila's hands trembled uncontrollably as she struggled to process the information. Fear and worry gripped her heart, as she grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. "Will she be alright?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation, seeking reassurance in the face of the unknown. "Is she out of danger?"
The doctor nodded solemnly, his eyes conveying a hint of caution, fueling Anila's apprehension. "We have stabilized her for now," he explained, carefully choosing his words to convey the delicate balance they were treading. "However, she is still in a critical condition. The risk of blood loss has put her in a precarious situation, making the potential for hypovolemic shock a real concern." With each word, the doctor's disclosure added to the uncertainty that hung in the air. "We will closely monitor her and do everything we can to ensure her recovery," he concluded, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing uncertainty.
Anila gasped in fear and anguish, her mind reeling with the gravity of the doctor's words. "Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered, her voice trembling with fear. "Is she going to be okay?" she asked, desperation and worry in her voice. The doctor nodded solemnly, his expression grim. "We are doing our best," he said, his voice heavy with concern. "But we must remain vigilant and monitor her closely. We cannot be sure of the outcome until we see how her body responds to the treatment."
With that, the doctor bowed his head in a gesture of respect and sympathy and then turned to leave.
....
Ma Begum smiled, "Murtasim is safe. He is out of danger now." Anila, overwhelmed with emotions, couldn't contain her sorrow and burst into uncontrollable sobs. She sought solace in Ma Begum's warm embrace, her face etched with fear.
Ma Begum's confusion grew. Her smile faded as tears welled up in her eyes and she turned to Waqas for answers. "How is Meerab?" His eyes were clouded with sadness as he met Ma Begum's gaze. In a sorrowful tone, he revealed, "The doctor said Meerab is stabilized for now, but she remains in critical condition."
Ma Begum's heart sank further, and she whispered a prayer under her breath, "Ya Allah khair... May the Almighty have mercy on us."
Anwar, who had been on an urgent call, let out a deep sigh as he disconnected. The weight of his anger was evident as he clenched his fists and questioned, "Where is Haya? Have you seen her?" Ma Begum and Maryam exchanged anxious glances, unsure of how to respond. The tension in the room was thick, mirroring Anwar's fury.
Caught off guard by Anwar's outburst, Ma Begum sought clarification, "What happened? Why are you so furious?" Anwar's anger simmered beneath the surface as he gritted his teeth and replied, "We will know soon enough. Right now, I need Haya here."
Anguish and uncertainty hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room.
What has Haya done to make Anwar so furious?
************
Your thoughts?
What do you guys think is going to happen to Meerab? Will she be able to come back to life in Murtasim's world?
I apologize in advance for any mistakes I may have made when using the medical jargon. My path in medicine has not yet begun and I am not a doctor. However, I'll rectify these whenever I begin to become one, Insha'Allah. Hehe!!
PS: And before writing all of that, I did my share of research.