Farjaad walked up to the bench. FCC park, the location Umeed had sent. He had been here a few times before, but not for long. This was the first time he felt like he was observing and taking in the surroundings, the greenery, the midday breeze.
She was sat on the bench, legs folded, an oversized hoodie and loggers, looking comfortable. The gentle breeze brushing against her skin, her hair flowing, skin vibrant under the clouded sun.
Farjaad smiled, going to sit next to her, sighing loudly.
It had been two days since the unveiling incident. Fortunately, it took over all their thoughts, mainly hers. They did not have the time to address the little moment they had shared before, the conversation.
That is what Umeed thought.
But it was all Farjaad could play in his head, and it made his past two nights very difficult.
"Everything is done for now." Farjaad muttered, taking in the soothing wind and the peace of the park. No one was there, maybe it was due to the chilly weather or maybe the fact it was midday on a weekday.
"Wow." Umeed sighed. It was time to reflect. Now they were in the end of January, everything that needed to be done was done. Locations, supplies, labour, all the main things were attended to. It seemed impossible, yet it was accomplished.
"Ab aesa lag raha hai na ke pata bhi nahi chala?" Farjaad turned to face her, seeing her lost in thought, her dancing dancing gently against her cheeks, nose a little reddened from the colder weather.
"Pata chala, bohot achi tarhan pata chala. But it's relieving, ab we wait for things to come." Umeed nodded to herself. She was far from done. If anything, her work hadn't even properly begun yet.
But she was oddly at ease, it felt doable. With the right people and convincing results, it all seemed doable. She was gonna make it work.
"Haan..." Farjaad looked at the scenery beholding them. He decided to bring up the subject they were both wanting to address. "Yusuf se baat ki mene."
"Mene bhi Savi se ki." Umeed nodded in agreement, thinking about the conversation they had, the reasoning for them to hide it, the utter shock on Saveria's face when Umeed told her she could not care less. They were not that dramatic. "You know mujhe wo excuse bohot fazool lagi. Hum nahi hain aese."
"I fully agree. It's very inaccurate. Aese bol rahein hain ke hum ne unko maar dena tha. They think we are animals." Farjaad chuckled, recalling his own conversation he had with Yusuf. They acted as if these two simply could not cooperate. And they could, they did.
Or this was a form of denial for both of them. They would have agreed, but now that things are settled, it's better to live with the knowledge that they have dramatic friends.
"We are very civilised. Pata nahi kya socha unhon nein." Umeed shrugged, slowly touching the line of mocking the situation. She was certainly struggling to be civil, she knew it. But playing along with that denial was fun.
"Haan... tum jese meri buraiyan nahi kar rahi thi Saveria se." Farjaad muttered, recalling what Yusuf was telling him about how they would both vent to their respective friends. He did it too, but it was a fair game.
"Don't play innocent, mujhe bhi pata hai aap ka mizaaj. Is hi liye aap ka dost itna ghabra gaya tha." Umeed sweetened her tone, knowing that he had been complaining to Yusuf as well. It was not exactly difficult to gain all this information. Once Saveria let loose, every detail came Umeed's way.
"Aap?" Farjaad raised his eyebrow, tilting his head to face her. She laughed, soft, soothing, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging onto her knees on the bench. "I'm happy for them."
"So am I. Khush khush hai wo, acha lag raha hai ye nayi khushi dekh kar. Time laga baat to absorb hone mein, but I'm happy now." Farjaad spoke truthfully. It was not the easiest thing to adjust to.
His friend, sharing feelings with Umeed's friend, it was bizarre. And it would have been even more bizarre if he had found this out a month ago. But now, for some odd reason, it made him happier. It made him even more excitement. And he couldn't put a finger to what it was.
"Same." Umeed agreed. If was the same for her, but she wouldn't have reacted even if she had found that out before. So her takeaway was more emotional than his, she felt a little disappointed in herself for presenting herself in such a way that her friend had to hide something because she feared Umeed's reaction. There was a small takeaway from the situation.
"Tumhara kya plan hai for the next two weeks?" Farjaad asked her. They had a two week break now. Things were in place, the pending things were to be dealt with later, and it was time for both of them to breathe. He had, after thorough thinking, planned a short trip back home to test the waters.
"Aik bridal shower aur aik dholki." Umeed answered instantly. Unlike him, she did not have any plans. She could not decide on what to do. Going back was a completely different story. But she had many people request for events, and had managed to get her hands on two different events. It was good. It would keep her busy and distracted. Not that she needed something to distract her.
"Ab tou bohot asaan lagta hoye ga." He commented, referring to the ease she would experience after the turmoil he witnessed. It made him a little proud to see that she learned and evolved, there was a ray of ease she admitted, an improvement from the anxiousness she felt through the initial decision-making.
"Compared to the chaos I experience over the last two months? Definitely." She nodded and smiled. "Tumhara kya plan hai?"
"I'm gonna go to Karachi, family se mil lun, bohot time ho gaya hai." He sighed, stretching. Umeed's eyes widened.
"Aik minute... you're from Karachi?" Her whole body swiftly turned to face him, legs now crossed, full focus on him and the statement.
"Haan..." He looked at her weirdly, unfamiliar with hoe stunned she appeared.
"Jhoot!" Umeed exclaimed. "Mein Karachi se hun, aur mein dur dur se pehchaan leti hun." She proudly informed him. This time it was Farjaad who was stunned. Umeed, from Karachi. The same Karachi he was from.
"You're from Karachi?" He pointed to her, and she nodded aggressively, the unveiling dawning on both of them. Two months spent working together and they had just learned something new. But it was adding up, now that he thought of it. "It makes sense." She lived on her own, her mode of transport is taxi. And her aura was all-round independent and self-reliant. It made sense to him. "To tum yahan kyun ho?"
The infamous follow-up question. The first person who had asked her this question was her employer from the retail store she worked in. Then it was the lady who came to buy a dress from the retail store, ask Umeed about about her interests and insisted that she planned her daughter's birthday party. It was what started Umeed's journey to what she did now. Four months in Lahore, she looked for apartments that she could afford.
There were close to none. And where she was living was in poor condition and unsafe to walk around after sunset.
Until she contacted an estate agent who told her he could look something for her. Out of embarrassment Umeed described the ideal studio she would prefer rather than her budget, since it was abysmal.
And that was where things eased out for her. The third studio she visited, the most spacious of them all, the brightest and finest one, the one that she only stepped a foot in and instantly realised that it was way over her budget, that was where she ended up.
The agent informed her that the owner wanted to show it to Umeed as well as the other luxuries that were in the building, the building that had been finished a year ago.
The owner was not there, but the owner's daughter was there.
Saveria.
And the rest of it was history. Their friendship not only fifteen months strong, but also deep and meaningful. Umeed would have been in-debt to all the generosity Saveria and her family treated her with, but she made sure to keep it balanced.
A lowered rent and trust and admiration from the family who appreciated and applauded her for her new step into independence, as well a newfound friendship she grew to cherish.
Six months in Lahore, she was an established wedding planner and a self-made interior designer. She had her BA, nothing that would make her qualified to become a professional designer. But she had one thing, good taste and a sense of things.
"I could ask you the same question." She shrugged with a light smile, not wanting to explain everything, as well at what or how encouraged her to leave. "DHA mein palay bare ho na?" He nodded. "It makes sense." She said blankly, with a poker face, no emotion.
He stared at her.
She stared back.
He laughed.
"Umeed." It was a soft chuckle, the rare one that made her heart dance. It was beautiful, with his dimple showing out and his cheeks glowing. And it suited him. She wanted him to laugh more, it genuinely suited him.
"So you'll be there for the next two weeks?" She asked, a little uncertain, and at unease at that thought for some reason. Two months, seeing one another on average every two to three days, texting daily, calling every now and then to either moan or argue about something. But the habit was made, and as much as the break was needed and relieving, Umeed felt she had nothing to look forward to.
"Aik dou din mein jaun ga. Yusuf ko batana hai so he can babysit Coco." Of course. Umeed noted herself to ask him if she could meet his cat again, she was quite fond of him.
The cat reminded her of something else. His shirt, his hoodie, his smell, his living room. His clothes were in her house, she didn't give them back. And she actively avoided bringing that conversation up. It was not because she found it awkward... Umeed didn't want to give him those things back.
"Uske maamle mein bohot protective ho." She stretched her temple lightly, focusing back onto the conversation. It was so frustrating having these occasional bursts of emotion that made no sense to her. And it bothered her, but she tried controlling it as much has she could.
"Mera bacha hai. He's everything to me." Farjaad shrugged, a hint of exaggeration to made her laugh, but Umeed knew he meant it.
And she laughed, she laughed loudly and openly, Farjaad joining in. They laughed as they sat on the bench, surrounded by greenery and immersed by the weather and the swift breeze.
-
Four days. Four days since they had been apart, and at dawnt he took off to Karachi. Did she know this because she spoke to him? No. Did she know this because she tried texting him many times and refrained and then breathed a sigh of relief once she saw his Instagram story? Yes.
But that relief was replaced by irritation. She missed him, and she was angry at herself that she missed him.
-
"Baby tum ne itna acha surprise diya hai, mera tou dil hi khush ho gaya." Niggo sat down opposite him. He arrived a few hours ago, slept, woke up, freshened up, went for a jog, came back and showered, and now sat in his home. It was a relieving feeling. This was only his third time coming since he had left, four years ago.
"Waqayi bhai I'm so happy. Mein kya bataun." Mimi pushed his shoulder, the happiness emitting from her face. He didn't even tell her, just showed up.
There was obviously a whole strategy behind showing up unannounced, but that was only for him to know of.
"Beech mein choti si break mili thi, socha aa jaun." He smiled.
"Wese Farjaad tum itna busy office mein bhi na hotay jitna tum wahan ho. Aesa kya kaam hai?" Niggo paced one leg over the other, genuinely curious.
She knew what he did, briefly, but it didn't make sense how that kept him as busy as it did. Part of it was because Farjaad blatantly lied about it, making it seem as if he was surrounded by constant chaos when in fact, he was quite controlling of his surroundings and had everything balanced.
"Maa aana jaana bohot hai wahan, sirf raat ko ghar hota hoon. It is chaotic." And again, the exaggeration now on the tip of his tongue, the repeated words no longer needing thorough thought, it had become a muscle memory at point.
"Khair, mein tou bohot khush hun. Tum batao kya khao ge? Ghar ka khaana tou yaad karte ho ge." He chuckled, she wasn't entirely wrong, the taste of home was incomparable. However, he had his 'dhar ka khana' source there.
"Itna nahi, thanks to Yusuf, but kuch bhi kha lun ga." Two generations of chefs. His maternal grandfather being one and then his mother taking it from there. Yusuf had taken those skills, it was in his genes. Although he owned a few gym's across the city, he had online diet programs and also worked as the rightful stakeholder of his family's hard work by going around and checking the restaurants every now and then. He had the entrepreneurial approach, and it clearly worked.
"Great, I'll call Shumail bhai, aaj saare raat ko dinner akath-"
"Maa... mein aik saal baad wapas aaya hun. At least mujhe apni family ke saat sukoon se time spend karnein dein." Farjaad's jaw was instantly clenched. Last time it was two days, this time a few hours after he landed. He did not want to do this at all.
"Farjaad wo bhi family hain." Niggo reasoned, causing Farjaad to breathe in deeply.
"Maa." It was Mimi this time, sending a requesting glance over to her mother to not start this now. His tense muscles were fairly visible, and it wasn't hard to see that he was clearly trying to avoid the conversation.
"Okay fine. But tum unse milo ge, is par aur kuch nahi sunna mene." Niggo stated firmly before standing up and heading to the kitchen. Farjaad let out a long exhale, Mimi looking over to him apologetically, but both the siblings knew that this chapter was once again going to be reopened, and it's going to have the same old ending.
-
"Acha hua tum aa gaye, zara training bhi ho jaye gi tumhari." Umeed held two ends of the sheet while the other two were in Anthony's hold. It was a baby-pink one, since the bridal shower theme were soft pinks.
"Umeed baaji aap ko pata hai mein bhi Jackie aur Hasan ke mohale mein rehta hun." Anthony shared as they placed it onto the table, making sure there was not a single crease on it.
"Waqayi?"
"Haan. Jackie ke ghar se agli gali mein meri khala ka ghar hai, aur usse agli waale mein Hasan rehta hai." Umeed smiled brightly, this information making her even more ecstatic. Having her staff get along was the most she could have wanted, and this was adding to the excitement of working together for the mass upcoming events.
"Chalo ye tou bohot acha ho gaya." They now reached for the patterned net sheet to place over the pink one for affect. This table had to be the most decorated one since the pictures and cake-cutting were to be done.
"Umeed baaji, aap ko Farjaad sahab kese milay?" Out of the blue, against her will, she was reminded of him once again.
It was the fifth morning without him, not that she was counting. But it pissed her off. She could not stop thinking about him. She could not stop missing him. The t-shirt hung in her closet haunted her. Every time she opened it she got a whiff of that musky scent, and it pissed her off because it made her want to see him, talk to him.
She did not have the bravery to wear those clothes again, she felt he would somehow find that out, and it frightened her.
"Bas mil gaye, hum donon ko option mili thi akhatay kaam karne ki, bas phir kiya." She explained very briefly, very simply. Keeping out any details, not that there were many that were noteworthy.
"Aur wo maan gaye?" Anthony, looking a little taken-aback, even made Umeed stop from what she was doing to look at him. "Mera matlab, Farjaad sahab kabhi bhi lagte nahi thay larkiyon se milne waale. Achi baat hai." Was that an insult? A compliment? Umeed had no clue.
She was even puzzled to take something away from that piece of information. Was he shy? Was he reserved? Was he taken? Or did he just hate women? She didn't want to start picking things up and thinking along those lines, it was very dangerous.
-
"This is ridiculous, Mimi ye kya tamasha hai?" Farjaad sighed as he spoke on the phone, pushing through the glass door and entering a new location, one he already knew he was going to love.
"Bhai aap ko kya pata, abhi tou phir bhi kam baat ho rahi hai. Warna bas yahi chalta hai." Mimi spoke across the phone.
"Acha let's not discuss it right now, mein aa gaya hun. Agar kuch na pasand aaye tou cake le aun ga." He muttered, saying his goodbye and closing the phone. This was no time for that discussion.
Against his will, to his lack of surprise, his dear uncle had been informed of his presence in the city, and of course as was his dear cousin.
And within hours they were sent a formal invitation for a dinner, which already gave him a headache. And his mother pleaded for him to check a new place that would be of his taste, and buy something to gift the family.
It was all pathetic. But he tried not losing it, at least not in the initial days. He worked on his patience and tolerance, it was take more than a few demeaning and threatening statements to get a reaction out of him.
And to his fortune, it was easy to convince Reena without committing anything. He didn't know if love made people foolish and stupid, but Reena's patience with him also had him wondering.
Speaking of... not love of course.
Umeed.
It was odd. For the first time, he felt uneasy. Not the kind of unease that is stressful and work-related or comfort-related. It was an unease that reeked of emptiness, as if there was something missing. Something he had been getting treated with for some time, all of a sudden gone.
He hadn't spoken to her since their little meeting at the park. And it was the most warm and lively he felt. It was like the walls began descending on their own, there was laughter, there was comfort, there was joy.
And at that moment he enjoyed it and embraced it.
When he went back to his apartment he feared it and told himself that an escape was good to extinguish the emotions that were building up.
But now, he missed it. He missed her. And it worried him. It was impossible to deny that there was a spark within him that would start a fire every time she was around. He was beyond coming into terms with that.
That was easily sorted the night she stayed over, the night she was surrounded by everything that he recognised as his, and he realised that it suited Umeed. She complimented everything that was his. It felt right.
But how was it going to be dealt with? How was he meant to go back and continue working with her? And what happens after that? This was a one-time thing, this was something that he found to be impossible within his books and amendments. But she was there, she ripped through it and she conquered it. He wondered if things were ever going to be normal for him again.
Her laugh, her smile, her plump lips, her sparkling eyes, her dancing waves. Her big boots that gave her a few extra inches but made no difference in front of him, her variety of hoodies and her collected of cargo pants of every possible colour. It got way too familiar.
And here Farjaad was, thinking that being away would help. It was making things much more worse.
"Hi." A man walked up to him, brown hair, soft curls, a multicoloured t-shirt. Unique fashion sense, complimenting the environment around him. "Welcome sir."
"This is a lovely gallery. Nayi hai?" He looked around, every piece having its own story, own style, own essence. Farjaad was an admirer or art, of the thought-process, and of the interpretations he had compared to what the artist initiated. He loved comparing perspectives. He valued art a lot.
"Opened around a year ago." The man pointed around.
"Aur sab aap ka kaam hai." Farjaad pointed to him, his assumptions solely based off of the man's body language and the way he just... felt like he belonged there. It oddly made sense.
"Every single canvas." An accent to him, something he just caught on to. Farjaad was a fan, and he was already tempted to look around. If he was going to be late, there was the perfect excuse of traffic now.
"Wow." He saw the wall that was covered in canvases, in awe of every piece. He then remembered to introduce himself properly, this was definitely going to be a place he would come to more often. "By the way, I'm Farjaad Khan." He brought his hand out to shake, the man smiling and taking it.
"Sameer Pasha."