In Lahore's outskirts,
there stood an old building, worn out by time and weather. The place seemed forgotten, surrounded by a gloomy sky. The building looked tired, like it held stories from many years. Silence hung thick in the air, making it clear that the building kept secrets within its crumbling walls. Despite its age, the structure stood strong, a quiet guardian of mysteries, telling tales of Lahore's past in hushed whispers.
From a distance, a small child observed the building, his gaze filled with fear. He dared not look directly at it, a silent understanding lingering in his innocent eyes. The reason for his trepidation? He knew the building all too well—aware of the secrets it held and the ominous presence it concealed. The child stood frozen, a mixture of curiosity and dread in his heart, as the aged structure loomed large, casting a shadow over his apprehensive form.
As the sky darkened, the child, named Abbas , noticed approaching footsteps. Turning around, he discovered a man. The man knelt down, his expression stern, and instructed Abbaa with a gravelly voice.
" Building ke andar ja , usse dhund oor ko mene bola hai vho bol usko"
["Go into the building, find him, and say what I said."]
The frightened child nodded obediently, his eyes shifting nervously toward the foreboding structure. With a deep breath, he began his hesitant journey toward the mysterious building, the weight of the man's words heavy on his small shoulders.
Stepping into the building, Abbas was immediately greeted by the pungent mix of cigarettes and alcohol that hung in the air like an unwelcome cloak.
The scent assaulted his senses, a stark reminder of the illicit activities unfolding within the dilapidated walls. The dim light struggled to penetrate the gloom, casting eerie shadows as Aya cautiously ventured further. The discordant symphony of hushed conversations and occasional clinks of glass bottles intensified his unease.
The atmosphere was intense. Abbas stood in a corner, observing the sizable room.the strong smell of cigarettes and alcohol filled the air. The little boy felt overwhelmed by the unpleasant odor. The dim lighting added to the eerie atmosphere, and he cautiously moved further into the room, keeping to the shadows.
In the center of the space, people were busy handling large firearms taken from a van, and on a nearby table, various drugs were being placed into a bag. Abbas, hidden in the corner, observed the activities with a mix of fear and curiosity. The scene was unsettling, and he wondered what he had gotten himself into.
As he remained hidden, Abbas couldn't shake off the sense that he was witnessing something dangerous. The adults in the room seemed focused on their tasks, oblivious to the small, terrified observer in their midst.
Panicking, Abbas didn't know what to do; his instincts told him to run upstairs to escape the unfolding situation. Unfortunately, someone spotted him. The men in the room noticed the presence of a child and moved quickly to catch him. Abbas heart raced as he darted towards the staircase, hoping desperately to evade the approaching figures. The atmosphere grew tense, and the room echoed with hurried footsteps as the men closed in on the frightened child.
As Abbad scampered upstairs, the weight of fear pressed heavily on his small shoulders. The staircase seemed to stretch infinitely as his footsteps echoed through the desolate building. Panic surged within him, and his breaths quickened.
Finding refuge on the upper floor, Abbas spotted an abandoned table, its worn surface concealing him like a shield. He slid under it, curling into a tight ball, hoping the men would overlook his hiding spot.
Below, the men grew increasingly agitated, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of concern.
"Baccha kaha gya?"
["Where did the kid go?" ]
one of them muttered, frustration evident in his tone. Abbas clutched the edge of the table, eyes wide with trepidation.
"Dur nhi gya hoga! Jau oor dhundo usse"
["He couldn't have gone far! Spread out and find him," ]
ordered a gruff voice, prompting the men to disperse in their pursuit. Aya's small frame quivered beneath the table as he held his breath, praying they wouldn't discover his hiding place.
The men fanned out, searching every nook and cranny, unaware that the source of their concern cowered just inches away. In the dimly lit space, Abba's heart pounded like a drum, the rhythmic beat matching the intensity of the situation unfolding around him.
Abbas's relief was fleeting, and a new wave of tension gripped him. Just as he sighed in momentary reprieve, the echo of polished shoes against the gritty floor reached his ears. Abbas's eyes widened as he shifted his gaze toward the source.
The shoes were a stark contrast to the dilapidated surroundings. Gleaming black, they bore the marks of careful upkeep, betraying a sense of authority. The child's gaze traveled upward, noting the crisp hem of tailored trousers that accompanied the shoes.
Abbas could sense an aura of significance surrounding those shoes, though the details of the man above them remained veiled in shadows.
As the figure approached, a soft glow from a distant streetlight illuminated the shoes, revealing subtle details—a faint scuff near the heel, evidence of journeys taken. Abbas couldn't help but marvel at the juxtaposition of these immaculate shoes against the worn-out floor of the desolate building.
A polished shoes stopped near the edge of the table, and Abba's heart raced once more. The ominous silhouette of the figure loomed over him, yet the shoes conveyed a sense of assurance. Despite the fear, Abbas couldn't help but be captivated by the silent narrative etched into those well-kept shoes.
Terrified and convinced that his fate was sealed, the child felt a shiver run down his spine. But then, a voice cut through the ominous silence, interrupting his thoughts
The ominous atmosphere in the room shifted slightly as a calm voice remarked,
"Aaj phir se barish hogi na bhaijaan"
["It looks like it's gonna rain again, brother"]
The child, hidden under the table, strained to hear the conversation unfolding behind him.
The polished shoes, symbols of an unknown figure, moved away from the child's view. The child breathed a sigh of relief, believing that they were unaware of his presence. In the safety of his concealed spot, the rhythmic tap of raindrops against the window offered a strange comfort, juxtaposed against the tension within the room. The child, despite his fear, found a peculiar solace in the mundane observation about the weather, providing a fleeting distraction from the shadows that lurked nearby
The child, unable to resist the pull of curiosity, cautiously peered out from his hidden sanctuary. His eyes fixed on the mysterious figure, shrouded in the dimly lit room. The man, tall and imposing, stood near the window, his silhouette outlined by the city lights outside. A watch adorned his wrist, catching occasional glints from the dim room. Wisps of smoke spiraled gracefully from the cigarette held between his fingers.
The man's back, a stoic barrier concealing the enigma within, was momentarily turned towards the child. The air in the room seemed to ripple with an unspoken intensity, the aura surrounding the figure transcending the ordinary. The child, spellbound, couldn't help but wonder who this person was and why his presence felt like an unwritten chapter in a mysterious tale.
Suddenly, the man pivoted, revealing a face that bore the marks of life's myriad experiences. His gaze, penetrating and wise, met the child's wide-eyed innocence. Despite the apparent severity, a fleeting softness lingered in his eyes.
The child, awestruck by the unexpected encounter, remained frozen under the table. The man's presence, a paradox of strength and vulnerability, left an indelible impression. As the man continued to observe the rain outside, the child grappled with a myriad of emotions—fear, curiosity, and an inexplicable connection to the enigmatic figure standing before him.
In that suspended moment, the child realized he was not merely witnessing a passing scene but a glimpse into a world unknown. The man's stature, the dimly lit room, the sound of rain against the window—all coalesced into an indescribable tableau, etching itself into the canvas of the child's memory.
He said.
" Hone do barish Amir "
The man's voice lowered, almost a whisper, as he uttered these words.
The child, hidden beneath the table, strained to hear more. The man continued,
" Aakhir usse barish hi jo pasand hai "
(She loves rain anyways !)
The child, trembling with curiosity, caught glimpses of the man's stature – tall and commanding. A silver watch adorned his wrist, a silent witness to the passage of time. The man, enveloped in a mysterious aura, smoked a cigarette, the tendrils of smoke dancing around him. His back remained turned, an enigma, yet his voice resonated like a melodic secret, echoing through the dimly lit room
The child, paralyzed with fear, prayed that the man he envisioned wasn't who he dreaded. A shiver ran down his spine as he envisioned the worst. The atmosphere was heavy with tension, and the child felt the weight of the unknown pressing upon him. The room, filled with the pungent smell of cigarettes and alcohol, seemed like a labyrinth of secrets. The child's breaths came in shallow gasps, and his heart pounded in his chest. In that moment of uncertainty, he clung to the hope that his hiding place would shield him from the ominous figure, a guardian against the impending threat.
"Kya aap bhi Arsalan bhaijaan"
Amir laughed looking at his khan sa his bhaijaan.
The uttered words echoed in the child's ears, sending shockwaves through his terrified frame. A gasp escaped his lips, and his eyes widened in disbelief. It was a revelation that struck fear into his heart, a realization that his worst fears might be coming true. The child's mind raced, grappling with the implications of the name spoken in that ominous tone. In that moment, the hidden figure became a specter of dread, and the child clung to the hope that his presence would remain unnoticed, shielding him from the unfolding mysteries of the darkened room.
But the world is unfair and so is Abbas fact
" Bahar aa ja bache"
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Word count: 1,983
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Hello loves.
Lol I'm writing this for the 3 Rd time rn
(╥﹏╥)
Anyways here's your Sundays update.
Hope you'll love this chapter.
And I really hope you all like the MLs entry. Thod next chapter mai oor bhi bohot kuch hai😉 .
Anyways someone loves barish huh!!
Comment down what will Arsalan Khan do to little Abbas now.
What was Abbas reasons to do something like this. Moreover who was that guy ? Oh and moreover what does Abbas has to say ?
To know this vote , comment and share.
If this chapters gets some love so I'll think of an suprise update.
Till then see ya.
💗💗💗💗💗💗