It had been a month since Meerab arrived in Pakistan, and truth be told, she found herself grappling with boredom. The confines of the Khan Haveli seemed to stifle her, leaving her with little to do beyond occasionally observing Maa Begum presiding over the ladies' panchayat. In these gatherings, women would present their problems and wishes, and Maa Begum, with a wisdom Meerab sometimes questioned, provided solutions. Yet, Meerab refrained from interfering, recognizing that it wasn't her place to say anything.
These panchayats, however, proved to be uncomfortable for Meerab. She couldn't escape the peculiar gazes from the women, as if she were an alien among them. The reason remained unknown to her until Maa Begum delicately suggested that Meerab should "dress differently" for these gatherings. Apparently, her jeans and shirts were cause for gossip, prompting Meerab to withdraw from the panchayats altogether.
With her main source of social engagement cut off, Meerab found herself with ample time on her hands. She dedicated herself to improving the orphanage, engaging in online talks with the children there, and managing interactive sessions with the NGOs affiliated with MKGroups. Despite these commitments, her days in the Khan Haveli often felt like aimless wandering, punctuated by thrice-daily meals with Maa Begum, her father, and occasionally Murtasim.
Murtasim Khan, in particular, captivated Meerab's curiosity. She prided herself on her ability to read people effortlessly, yet Murtasim proved her wrong. Meerab could easily label the other members of the Khan haveli with Maa Begum being well-intentioned woman with a heart dedicated to improving the lives of local women. Although her tradition mentality remained the same yet she tried her best to do everything for the betterment of the women who sought guidance from her.
Farukh, Meerab noticed was a soft-spoken, well-mannered, and respectful guy who had an inseparable bond between Murtasim. Although Farukh's role in the Khan Haveli remained unclear to her but he seemed to embody traits that Meerab could easily understand.
Murtasim, in stark contrast to those around him, remained an intriguing puzzle for Meerab. His body language exuded confidence and seriousness, an air of someone who had mastered the art of composure. Every step seemed purposeful, every gesture deliberate, as if he were navigating a world only he fully understood.
Physically, Murtasim cut a striking figure. His athletic build hinted at a disciplined routine, perhaps a testament to a life of order and structure. The perfectly groomed beard and the rolled-up mustache added a touch of sophistication, an element of traditional charm in a modern context. His hair, flawlessly styled and gelled back, further emphasized an attention to detail that mirrored the meticulousness of his demeanor.
In the midst of the Khan Haveli's hustle and bustle, Murtasim spoke sparingly. He kept to himself, creating an aura of solitude that fascinating Meerab. It was as if he harbored a world of thoughts and reflections within, choosing to share them with none. The rare occasions when he did speak were measured and purposeful, each word carrying a weight that demanded consideration.
However, what captivated Meerab the most was the absence of a smile on Murtasim's face. She had never witnessed the curve of his lips in a gesture of genuine happiness. His eyes, which seemed empty most of the time, held depths that Meerab couldn't fathom. They held secrets, untold stories and a complexity that defied easy understanding.
As Meerab observed Murtasim from a distance, she couldn't help but wonder about the mysteries concealed beneath his confident exterior. What experiences had shaped him into this stoic figure? What emotions hid behind those eyes that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken tales? It was a puzzle that Meerab couldn't resist, and with each passing day, her curiosity deepened, driving her to unravel the mysteries that surrounded Murtasim Khan.
One fine morning, when they all gathered around the dining table for breakfast, Murtasim announced, "Maa, I'll be going to the Gaon today for a day. I have some work to deal with." Meerab, at this point, contemplated whether she should return home or if her father needed her to stay and Maa Begum's voice broke her trance.
"Oh, would you mind taking Meerab with you as well then? It's been a month, and she has been stuck in this house for so long. Surely, she must be feeling bored, right Meerab?" Maa Begum said, and Meerab sheepishly nodded.
"But what would she do there? There's not much for her to entertain herself with," Murtasim argued. Meerab looked at him, hoping he would change his mind and take her along, as boredom was beginning to take its toll.
"You can show her the fields, the children's schools that have been established there, and it can just be a simple outing for her. Come on now, Murtasim, I don't want to hear anything else," Maa Begum instructed, firm in her decision as she looked at Murtasim knowingly.
Meerab, though grateful for the opportunity to break free from the routine, hesitated. "Oh, no, Maa Begum, it's alright. I don't want to be a burden. I can find something to do here, really," she insisted, not wanting to impose on Murtasim's plans.
Murtasim, however, interrupted, "It's not a problem. Meerab can come along. We'll leave in an hour." With that, he rose from his seat, his monotonous voice carrying an air of decisiveness, leaving behind an excited and anticipative Meerab.
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Murtasim understood the reality of his mother's intentions as he prepared to depart for the Gaon. His mind retraced a conversation he had with Maa Begum just a week prior.
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"Murtasim, beta, you know your father's desire for you to marry Meerab was to mend the strained relations between him and his brother. Now that Anwar is here, and you've met Meerab, I believe it's time to take the initial steps toward your marriage."
"Maa, do we really need to go down this road again? I've told you before—I don't—" Murtasim started, but his mother's firm interruption cut him off.
"Murtasim, it's your father's last wish. Can you not respect that? I understand that what happened shaped you into the person you are today, but you cannot possibly spend your entire life like this. You need a partner, someone with whom you can share your happiness and sorrows, someone you can rely on, someone who would love you," Maa Begum urged.
"MAA! Please, I'll agree to do whatever you want, but you cannot expect me to love someone. I'll respect Baba's wish, but I need to make it clear to you and Meerab as well, that this marriage will be nothing more than a contract," Murtasim insisted.
"Murtasim, you won't understand now but eventually, things would change. You will see things from a different perspective once you let your heart out of the abyss you've pushed it into, and I'm sure Meerab is going to be the one that helps you out of this darkness," Maa Begum predicted with unwavering conviction.
However, Murtasim couldn't shake the feeling that his mother would never change her stance, and there was little point in arguing further. Rolling his eyes in frustration, he left the room without saying another word, leaving the weight of unspoken tensions lingering in the air.
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His mother was orchestrating a plan to get them to spend time together—something Murtasim was definitely not looking forward to. The solitary trip he had planned was now entwined with Farukh tagging along. Murtasim, given his own busy schedule, didn't fancy the idea of acting like a tour guide for Meerab. Hence, Farukh's presence would serve as a buffer. He could engage Meerab, keep her company, and perhaps alleviate the boredom that she supposed had. Murtasim was well-aware of Farukh's friendly and considerate nature, making him the ideal companion for Meerab during the trip.
"Are you sure that's the reason, or are you just scared that Meerab would find out what an oldie you are? Worried she'll discover the 'boring-af' side of you?" Farukh grinned mischievously.
Murtasim scoffed, "Haha, very funny, Farukh! I'm just being practical. I've got a busy schedule, and I don't have time to babysit her."
Farukh leaned back, a sly grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever sails your boat. But you do have to agree that Maa Begum isn't stepping away from her agenda. I have major respect for her in that case. Mission: hooking up Meerab and Murtasim is going strong."
Murtasim shot Farukh an annoyed look, "Shut up, you asshole! I guess I was wrong; maybe you do need to get out of the car."
Farukh chuckled, unfazed, "Oh, so now you want to spend some alone time with her? Not bad, Murtasim. And here you were talking about how you can't babysit her."
"Farukh!" Murtasim warned, his eyes shifting to Meerab, who was strolling towards the car. With chestnut wavy hair flowed freely, catching the sunlight as she walked, and a bubbly smile adorned her face, Meerab was dressed in a plain white t-shirt tucked in with blue denim jeans paired with a vibrant red flowy shrug.
Taking in her appearance, Murtasim and Farukh exchanged a doubtful glance. The tension in the air was palpable, aware that Meerab's modern attire might stand out in the more conservative setting of the Gaon.
"Should we, umm, should we say something?" Farukh questioned, glancing back at Meerab.
Murtasim shook his head, "No, just... let her be." The air was thick with unspoken tension as they waited for Meerab to join them.
Meerab, radiating excitement, finally sat in the car and eagerly exclaimed, "Let's go!!!" The atmosphere shifted as her enthusiasm brushed away any lingering unease, and Murtasim couldn't help but notice how her energy infused a positive vibe into the car.
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They were halfway through the journey when Meerab couldn't bear the silence any longer. The car ride had been rather dull, with the two men delving into discussions about panchayat issues that Meerab struggled to comprehend. Feeling the need to break the monotony and forge a connection, she decided to initiate a conversation.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't really have the capacity to stay quiet for so long. I've started to get bored, so I think it would be better for us to get to know each other since we're embarking on this journey," she nervously spoke, uncertain of how they would react.
"Yes, yes, it's our fault. We should have initiated the conversation. Hello, I'm Farukh. I'm Khan's right-hand man and the head of staff at the Khan Haveli," Farukh replied with enthusiasm.
"Oh, I'm Meerab. Nice to meet you, Farukh," she said, extending her hand for a handshake that Farukh awkwardly reciprocated.
"So, Meerab Bibi, have you been enjoying your time in Pakistan?" Farukh asked, aiming to keep the conversation flowing.
"First of all, you don't need to call me that. Meerab's just fine. And secondly, to be honest, I've been feeling quite bored. There's not much to do here, and I'm not someone who's used to sitting in a room only. So yeah, the lack of activity has been getting to me," Meerab replied.
Farukh chuckled, "Well, I can't guarantee that you'll enjoy the Gaon much. There isn't much to do here either, but we can give you a tour around the school and show you the fields."
"I'm actually quite fascinated to see that. You know, Farukh, when I came to Pakistan before, about four years ago, my dad and I were only here for a week, and we tried to tour around as much as we could, but it still wasn't enough. So, this feels really exciting to me," Meerab shared, sparking a conversation about her past trip to Pakistan. As they chatted animatedly, Murtasim remained silent, focusing on driving the car through the scenic surroundings.
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As the car approached the Gaon, Murtasim dropped Farukh and Meerab off at the fields. Before leaving, he informed Farukh, "I'll be back after attending the panchayat." With that, he drove away, leaving the two of them to explore the vast expanse of the fields.
As Meerab watched Murtasim's retreating car, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. His silent demeanor throughout the ride and the apparent urgency to part ways with her raised questions in her mind. She pondered over how unwelcoming Murtasim's behavior seemed, as if he was intentionally avoiding her company.
Farukh, sensing Meerab's contemplative mood, decided to take charge and began showing her around the fields. He shared stories about the Khan family's history, detailing their influence and how it had grown over the years. Meerab listened attentively, intrigued by the dynamics of the land she was exploring. Although there were moments where she felt like the people around stared at her weirdly, she just ignored those as she focused on her family history and took pictures for her instagram.
As they reached a specific border, marked by an invisible yet palpable divide, Meerab's curiosity got the better of her. "Why can't we go there?" she asked, pointing beyond the boundary.
Farukh cleared his throat before responding, "That's the Malik's lands over there. We cannot pass this threshold, and they can't come here. This land has been a source of dispute between the Khans and Maliks for years. And ever since Anwar Khan...," he stopped, glancing at Meerab.
"Ever since my parents got married, the enmity only deepened?" she completed the sentence, and Farukh nodded solemnly.
"This is why Khan came to attend the panchayat. Malik Zubair, who's Malik Mukhtar's son, tried to threaten the farmers on our land, telling them to leave their work or else he'll beat them up and burn these fields. The villagers have been feeling threatened, so the panchayat was called. Do you know what a panchayat is, Meerab Bibi?" Farukh inquired.
Meerab nodded lightly, "Well, I have studied about it a bit. It's basically a village's council where the elderly and wise people are chosen by the local community to settle disputes and issues."
"Wow, you're quite educated on these matters," Farukh remarked, impressed.
"Well, I did study economics and international relations, and I had an interest in global politics as well. So, yeah, I kind of know about these things," Meerab replied sheepishly as Farukh continued to guide her through the village, sharing insights into the complexities that defined the relationships and disputes in the Gaon.
Their next stop was the local school, a testament to Murtasim's belief that education was paramount for the village's progress. He had initiated the school to provide not only academic knowledge but also to nurture the talents abundant in the villagers. The school aimed to be a hub for honing various skills, including traditional crafts, agriculture techniques, and artistic endeavors. Murtasim's vision was to empower the people to contribute actively to the betterment of their homeland.
Farukh guided Meerab through the school, explaining its multifaceted approach. The talents of the villagers ranged from intricate craftsmanship and traditional artistry to innovative agricultural methods that sustained the village. As they walked through the classrooms, Meerab greeted the children and the teachers, all of whom sang endless praises for Khan Murtasim Khan.
Intrigued by the silent benefactor, Meerab turned to Farukh, asking, "Does Murtasim Khan even speak? I've never really seen him talk much. Looking at how everyone is inspired by him here makes me wonder what sort of person he is."
"Well, Murtasim, he's quite a complex, layered man, I would say. He might seem rude and cold from the outside, but he would do anything for the betterment of the people associated with him. He doesn't really show it much, but he cares for everyone," Farukh explained.
"Oh, so like a coconut? Hard from the exterior and soft from the inside?" Meerab laughed, breaking the seriousness of the conversation but Farukh suddenly stopped and looked at her, then hesitantly nodded. "Yeah, umm, you could say that."
As they continued the tour, Meerab gained a deeper understanding of the intricate dynamics and initiatives that Murtasim had set in motion for the village's holistic development. The school stood as a symbol of Murtasim's commitment to empowering the community, and Meerab couldn't help but marvel at the depth of his mysterious character.
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Murtasim had just concluded the panchayat, a cyclic event where stern warnings were issued to the Maliks, but Murtasim knew that the real solution lay in a definitive decision about the disputed land. The land clearly belonged to the Khans. Malik Mukhtar's father had solidified a peace treaty, naming the land to the Khan family. However, Malik Mukhtar persistently questioned the legitimacy of this accord, continuously asserting that such a treaty had never been established. The ancestral peace treaty validating the Khans' claim was consistently argued against by Malik Mukhtar and his son, Malik Zubair, adding fuel to the age-old feud.
Sitting in his car and checking his phone after the meeting, Murtasim saw a series of missed calls and messages from Farukh. As the clock struck 5 pm and the sun dipped toward the horizon, Murtasim opened a message that added an unexpected layer to his day. Farukh's text informed him about being at the hospital due to Meerab's injury. "Great, one more thing to add to the list," thought Murtasim as he navigated the road to the hospital.
Meerab Khan was someone Murtasim couldn't claim a fondness for. It wasn't a personal aversion rooted in her personality, but rather the looming obligation to marry her. He found himself caught between the echoes of the past and the persistent whispers of his late father's wishes. These conflicting forces created a sense of discord, leading Murtasim to harbor a subtle disliking towards Meerab. Another contributing factor, he thought, might be her tendency for never-ending chattering.
Observing her throughout many days, Murtasim couldn't escape the constant hums of Meerab's voice. Whether engaged in conversations with his mother, interacting with the housemaids, being glued to her phone, or exchanging words with Farukh in the car, Meerab seemed to possess an inexhaustible reserve of words. It was as if she had an invisible button that, once pressed, set off an unending stream of chatter.
Arriving at the hospital, Murtasim was greeted warmly by everyone there. The sterile white walls echoed the hum of medical equipment as he entered the room. There, he found Meerab seated on the bed, bandages meticulously wrapped around left hand. The antiseptic scent lingered in the air, accentuating the gravity of the situation. Murtasim's typically stern voice questioned, "How did this happen? Farukh, where were you?"
Before Farukh could respond, Meerab interjected with a hint of nervous laughter, "It's not Farukh's fault. We were leaving the school when I saw a few baby goats on the other side of the road. I couldn't contain my excitement and rushed towards them. I bumped into a motorcycle, and well, this happened. But I'm okay." Her animated retelling of the incident added to the list of things Murtasim found slightly annoying about her.
"Farukh, you should have taken better care of her," Murtasim scolded, directing his frustration toward Farukh, who looked embarrassed beneath the sterile hospital lights.
"Mr. Khan, I've told you before, it's not his fault," Meerab intervened again, her voice pressing this time as Murtasim looked at her with a confused look. "I hope you don't mind me calling you that. Farukh told me you're older than me, and I truly have respect for elders, you know. But since you're not that old but old enough, I thought this would be a suitable title."
Murtasim inhaled deeply, attempting to suppress his annoyance as he heard the hidden giggles from Farukh. "I think you're well enough to travel. If this IV drip is done, we should start our journey back to Hyderabad." He left the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving a confused Meerab and a laughing Farukh behind.
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They reached back home around 8 pm, when the soft glow of moon bathed the surroundings in dark hues. The night air carried a sense of tranquility as they stepped out of the car. Murtasim, Farukh, and Meerab stood under the moonlight as Meerab turned towards them, the starry shimmer reflecting in her eyes. "Thank you, Farukh, for touring me around. I had lots of fun. And Mr. Khan, thank you for allowing me to tag along. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, though." Her words lingered in the calm evening air, carrying a sense of gratitude and fatigue.
Murtasim simply nodded as Farukh added, "It was great getting to know you, Meerab. You should go and rest now." The words blended with the chirping of crickets, creating a serene backdrop to the end of a day filled with new experiences.
As Meerab left, she stealthily made her way to her room, hoping to avoid her father and Maa Begum's potential overreaction to a seemingly minor incident. Unfortunately, her father had preemptively stationed himself in his room, his face etched with tension as he awaited her arrival. Spotting Meerab, his worries intensified, and he hurriedly approached her. "Meerab, beta, what happened? Are you okay?" he inquired, concern lining his words.
Seated together, Meerab reassured her father, "It's nothing, Dad. I just fell down. Don't worry." As he joined her, the room became a refuge from external concerns, a space where familial comfort could be sought. Intrigued by her father's unexpected presence, Meerab questioned, "What are you doing here? Is there something you want to talk about?"
Anwar, still avoiding eye contact, took a deep breath, preparing to articulate something that lingered on the fringes of peculiarity. "Meerab, I want you to listen to me carefully. I know it's going to sound weird, but please hear me out first," he implored.
Concern etched across her face, Meerab gazed at her father as she gently placed her hand over his, silently urging him to continue. "Dad, what is it?" she asked, her voice a gentle murmur. Anwar closed his eyes, as if summoning the strength to utter words that weighed heavy on his heart.
"Meerab, I want you to get married to Murtasim."
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