مسجد ڈھا دے مندر ڈھا دے ڈھا دے جو کچھ ڈھیندا
اِک بندے دا دل نہ ڈھاوِیں رَب دلاں وِچ رَیندا
- Bulleh Shah
Wednesday - 12:01pm
Hemayal resembled death.
Mehmal saw as colour left Hemayal's face in all its glory, her already pale face now resembling that of death, making Mehmal curse herself for bringing this topic up in the first place. She should have denied Taya Abbu in the first place when he asked her to bring Hemayal downstairs; she should not even have told Hemayal about Ibrahim's presence.
Hemayal's equation with Ibrahim never settled well with her, but nonetheless, she respected it. If Hemayal did not want to see that man, she had no right to force her. She had tried making a conversation with Hemayal on this particular topic numerous of times but the results have always been the same - none.
The incident of a few days ago when they had suddenly encountered Ibrahim in the restaurant was still fresh in Mehmal's mind. Hemayal had only seen a glimpse of him for a mere few seconds and she almost lost herself. Right now, he was sitting downstairs in their drawing room, along with his family who were expecting to see Hemayal any moment now - Hemayal's reaction was only justifiable.
"Please tell me I heard wrong." Hemayal whispered and what Mehmal witnessed in Hemayal's tone made her brows creased in confusion - dread and hatred.
"No, he really is downstairs, along with his father and brother." Mehmal said, surprised at the amount of dread that had dripped from Hemayal's words.
"I'm not coming." Hemayal said after a moment, voice more stern than she had ever heard and Mehmal's confusion only intensified.
"Hemayal, what's wrong?" She asked a question, hoping to get an answer out of Hemayal but even then, she had little hope.
The expressions that had come out of nowhere to reside on Hemayal's face frightened Mehmal - the stern edges of the eyes, the distasteful rise of eyebrows, the frown on the lips, the lines of displeasure on the forehead and the venom that laced her irises.
And, by Allah, at this moment, Mehmal suddenly feared Hemayal.
"Hami, you are worrying me, what's the matter?" Mehmal asked again after not having gotten an answer before, her eyes never leaving Hemayal's scarred face.
"Mehmal, I won't come downstairs." Hemayal stated without explaining herself, an action that was not much surprising on Hemayal's par who had always been a woman with little words.
"Hami, Taya Abbu asked me in front of them to call you downstairs. I can't go back and say that she refused to come." Mehmal explained her difficult position but the expressions on Hemayal's face showed that she hardly cared.
"Make an excuse or whatever, Mehmal, but I'm not coming." Hemayal shook her head forcefully, not even considering the proposition for even a second.
"For example?" She crossed her arms as she asked.
"Say that her foot is injured, she can't walk. And that is true so you won't even be lying. And look at my face, all scarred. What would I say to them when they ask about it?" Hemayal questioned as she shrugged her shoulders but Mehmal could see how desperate she was to not go downstairs.
Hemayal's reaction was beyond Mehmal's understanding. Yes, she never liked discussing Ibrahim, nor did she use to find any pleasure in the conversation when he was the subject but she never reacted this way. She always kept her calm, despite whatever Mehmal said. And this time, she had not even said anything and Hemayal's reaction was already harder than the strongest of ice.
"That is not a problem, we can tell that you had an accident or something, or maybe even fell." Mehmal stated, falling short for a moment before resuming, "Taya Abbu asked very sternly to bring you down, Hami."
"Your Taya Abbu's sternness is the least of my concern right now." Hemayal responded harshly, eyes narrowed.
"You know what will happen when I will say what you have suggested? Taya Abbu will come here and drag you down himself." Mehmal reminded her in a serious tone, one that silenced Hemayal completely, a pained expressions migrating to her face almost immediately.
"I don't care. Say that I'm sleeping, or maybe even injured. But I will not come downstairs and that is final." Hemayal's reply stunned Mehmal who thought that the threat of Hemayal's father would be enough to get Hemayal walking.
"Hemayal, the people who are sitting downstairs, they have come for Dadu, and for you. Even if you forget the relationship that we have with them, they are our guests." Mehmal spoke gently, trying hard to make Hemayal see and she did, for a second as her expressions softened but after a moment, it was all gone.
"Did I ask them to come here? I didn't. And I think there are plenty of people downstairs to tend to them, my presence is definitely not required." Hemayal repeated again, in words that contained hatred and tone that contained venom, and Mehmal Khakwani could not believe her ears.
Where did her soft spoken and composed sister went? What did the world do to her?
"Fine, as you wish. But be prepared if Taya Abbu comes upstairs." Mehmal said before standing up from the chair, finally giving up, majorly because she had never seen Hemayal this stubborn in all her life, nor had she seen her this broken - it was better not to push her.
"Tell him to don't bother. I still won't come downstairs." Hemayal said, this time voice low and hurt, and pangs of agony attacked Mehmal's heart, compelling her to sit down again.
"Hami, what's wrong? Why are you behaving like this?" Mehmal asked, almost at the verge of crying as she witnessed her cousin's broken state.
"What's right, Mehmal, what's right?" Hemayal questioned in response, a whisper that laced pain, in tone that was absolutely broken, one that effectively silenced Mehmal for a split second.
Sighing, she stood up again, looking down at Hemayal with every inch of her aching with pain. True, she had never seen Hemayal like this but the girl had died a thousand deaths in the past two days, her every inch ached - physically and mentally and above all, she did not have her Dadu with her in these tough times. After being given some time, she sure would recover and right now, all they could do was wait and pray.
"Alright then, I'm going. Don't worry, I'll handle everything downstairs." Mehmal said and Hemayal only nodded but neither the worry nor the pain lessened in her expressions.
These were going to be with her for a long time now.
|¤¤¤|
12:27pm
Mehmal walked down the spiral staircase, steps slowly taken and mind occupied, struggling to find an excuse that will spare Hemayal - for now, at least. However, none seemed good enough in the restraints of her mind. Hemayal's injured foot might just be her saviour, saving her from confronting the Yazdani men, but Mehmal knew that Taya Abbu would hardly buy it. Hemayal's foot was in a bad state, but she most definitely could walk around and Taya Abbu knew it well.
The excuse of a scarred face was a valid one but how will she pronounce it without igniting a fire of concern and curiosity in the hearts of the guests? On hearing of her injured face, wouldn't they want to meet her? Hell, they'd even persist.
And the excuse that she was sleeping was definitely out of question too - not only will that seem insulting to them all; it would clearly give away her lie. Everyone knew that Hemayal Khakwani could not sleep when her beloved Dadu had died just a day ago, and they all knew that she could never sleep when Ibrahim Yazdani was sitting just one floor below her in the house - after many long years. This excuse would never spare Hemayal's skin; if possible, it would only burn it more.
"Mehmal, where is Hami?" Anisha Bhabhi stepped out of the kitchen and walked slowly towards her, eyes going behind Mehmal to look for a sign of Hemayal.
She found none.
"She refused to come, Bhabhi." Mehmal sighed as she said, a heavy sigh that indicated the tiredness in her very bones.
"I understand the girl. She had had a little too much. Baba should not force her to meet them." Anisha Bhabhi sighed too, her all sympathies for the woman who now sat above in her room, scared and most definitely crying.
"I know and I get her too but what can I say to Taya Abbu? He asked me in front of everyone to go bring Hemayal downstairs." Mehmal leaned against the side of the staircase, eyes tired as she shared with Anisha Bhabhi.
"I don't understand Taya Abbu, seriously. Does he not know what condition Hemayal is in right now?" Mehmal complained as she groaned loudly, eyes rolling heavenward, head shaking in distaste.
"I wish Dadu were here right now. He would have saved Hemayal, he always did." A sad smile stretched Anisha Bhabhi's lips as she remembered the one man who had always become Hemayal's shield, even when Hemayal's own father was hell bent on gifting her pain.
Hemayal being in this condition after his death was not much of a surprise at all.
"I know." Mehmal sighed heavily, "I seriously can't imagine how she is even holding up. We were all close to him but Dadu and Hemayal's relationship was something extraordinary. I seriously can't imagine the pain she is going through right now."
"She is so broken; it pains me to even see her." Anisha Bhabhi too crossed her arms as she leaned beside Mehmal against the metal railing of the staircase.
"Yes, and we have to find some excuse for her. She is in no position to see Ibrahim and everyone; it will break her even more." Mehmal said, straightening her spine, looking around the house that was buzzing with people.
People, some of them she did not even know, had come to offer condolences at the death of her Dadu. Voices, strange and foreign rose from all around the house and they did little to ease the headache that had taken over her.
"You can tell them that her foot is injured, that she can't walk." Anisha Bhabhi suggested with a shrug and Mehmal shook her head with a sigh.
"I considered it but Taya Abbu will not buy it. He knows that her foot is better and she can walk around a bit." Mehmal put forward her problem, massaging her head slowly.
"It does not matter if he buys it or not. Ibrahim and his family will buy it and besides, Abbu will not say anything in front of them." Anisha Bhabhi said and the fog lifted immediately.
"Oh, yes. You are right, he will not say that I am lying in front of them now, would he?" Mehmal instantly exhaled a deep breath, a heavy burden having been lifted from her shoulder.
"Exactly, and hurry up, they have been waiting for quite some time now." Anisha Bhabhi hurriedly patted her arm as she ushered Mehmal towards the drawing room, eyes wide open, gesturing her to not do any blunder.
"Okay." Mehmal took a deep breath before she ran a hand over her clothes and walked towards the door, heart drumming in her chest.
Stepping inside, she scanned everyone with a distant look before any pair of the eyes could land on her. The first ones were those of Ibrahim, who was seated beside Hadeed Lala on the single sofa, and Mehmal saw as his eyes instantly darted past her shoulders, gazing outside for any sign of Hemayal but he was supposed to find none.
The infinitesimal emotion of confusion and disappointment that came to suddenly rest on his face made Mehmal's heart soar in surprise. After everything that had transpired between this man and her cousin, this was the last thing she expected and yet, it was a thing Mehmal wished she could see.
Coughing slightly, she went deeper into the room and sat beside her father who was engaged in a conversation with Taya Abbu and Morad Yazdani, Ibrahim's father. All eyes went towards her but she played an act worthy of an Oscar as she seated herself, looking unfazed as quite a few pair of eyes stared at her.
"Where is Hami, Mehmal?" Mehmal's father questioned her from beside her and she turned towards him before pressing her lips in a thin line, trying and succeeding to look deeply embarrassed.
"Umm, Abbu, you know her foot is injured, she can't walk. She tried real hard to come here but the pain was too much to bear, she could not take it." Mehmal said while chewing the bottom lip, embarrassment colouring her face a light shade of pink.
None of the men here knew her, except her own family members, and Mehmal hoped that it would be not too hard to convince them. Neither was she a good actor nor was she prized at lying, but she had to do this - for Hemayal.
"What happened to her foot?" The question was abrupt and it came from Ibrahim, from the last person she expected, making not only Mehmal's but everyone's eye turn towards him.
Mehmal saw as the man instantly silenced, spine suddenly straightening as he looked between everyone with pressed lips, but fortunately for him, the glances were of a mere second before they were all back on Mehmal, expecting her to answer Ibrahim's question.
"She injured it quite badly a few days ago, shards pricked at it." Mehmal answered a partial truth which she uttered with no shame whatsoever.
Hemayal did suffer from glass pricking at the sole of her foot - at least that is what she told Mehmal when she asked last night. But it was the former part of her statement that was a lie but even then, Mehmal felt no remorse whatever in speaking it, not even when all three guests opened their eyes in worry.
The small, brown eyes of the man who sat in front of her widened almost reflexively as he eyed Mehmal and what she witnessed on his face made her heart clench in her chest - worry. The worry he had just showed for Hemayal made a small rose of happiness bloom in her, compensating, if possible, a small proportion for all the times Hemayal had been disturbed because of him.
However, he did notice Mehmal's gaze on him so his expressions instantly went passive again, hiding the concern behind a façade of distant look. Mehmal, however, had seen enough and despite his frail but fruitful attempt, she did see through him, through all the worries that rested in him.
"My goodness, how is she now?" Ibrahim's father quickly asked, concern coming to rest in his voice as he eyed every family member of theirs.
"Well, she is not fine." Mehmal answered before any of her family men got the chance to open their mouths, knowing that they will ruin everything if they did, "Her injuries, and then Dadu's death - she is not holding up good at all."
The sudden shift in the room's environment was evident to Mehmal but she did no effort to subside it, knowing fully well that it was the only way she could protect Hemayal from harm. If Hemayal did not want to see Ibrahim, Ibrahim would have to cross Mehmal's dead body before he could reach her.
"Let her rest, then. We just wanted to comfort her a little but she needs rest. We will meet her some other time, hopefully." Mustafa, Ibrahim's elder brother, said and Mehmal exhaled a deep breath internally as she witnessed her arrow hitting right at place.
She had not expected everything to go this smoothly when she had first undertaken the task, anticipating that the people in the room would insist nonetheless. But it looked as if the men of Yazdani family had more sympathy in their hearts for Hemayal than the respect she had in her heart for them.
"Yes, I think that is right. The girl needs to rest, she is already in a bad condition due to Abbu's sudden death." Her father said and Mehmal nodded her head, sighing in a relaxed state as she witnessed everything being easier than she had initially thought.
Hemayal's father, however, had not uttered a word and throughout the conversation, Mehmal had made sure to not look in his direction, which was quite easy because he was sitting beside her and not in the front like Ibrahim, who had made his face impassive after initial broadcast of emotions. Mehmal knew she would have to face Taya Abbu at the end, but right now, she did not want to corrupt her mind with these thoughts.
"Yes, we will meet her some other time, there is no rush." Ibrahim's father had remarked and like that, the conversation came to an end, with Mehmal emerging triumphed.
Mehmal's eyes darted towards Hadeed Lala who was eyeing her with narrowed glare, confusion settled between them and Mehmal gave a small shrug of her shoulders, lips pressing as she did. She knew Hadeed Lala understood well enough what was going on around here, understood that Hemayal must have refused to meet Ibrahim and his family but nevertheless, Mehmal knew that he would understand.
Hadeed Lala always did.
Beside Hadeed Lala sat Ibrahim who, while leaning casually against the sofa frame with legs crossed, regarded Mehmal with a steady gaze, one that made her think that he could see right through her, through all the lies she had so effortlessly spoken. On the clash of the eyes, he nodded towards her with a small, genuine smile and diverted it afterwards towards Hadeed Lala who had said something to him.
"I have some work. Excuse me." Mehmal hurriedly excused herself and stood up from the couch, eyes narrowing as she exited the room without a single glance in any direction.
"Allah, it looked as if he knew I was lying." Mehmal murmured to herself as she made way through the house quickly, coming to rest only when she had reached the driveway outside the house.
Exhaling a deep breath she did not know she had been holding, Mehmal closed her eyes momentarily, images of the past few minutes playing in her mind. Placing her hands on the waist and raising her head, Mehmal inhaled the fresh air of the last days of September, each one reviving her lungs.
The air along with the pleasant weather due to a long spell of rain last night did wonders to her as it eased the beats of her erratic heart, making her shoulders sag in relief. After the heaviness of yesterday and lies of today, she needed any little strain of peace she could possibly grasp. By Allah, she did deserve it.
"Mehmal?" A small, unsure voice sounded from behind and Mehmal's eyes flew open.
Before even turning around, she knew who the voice belonged to and took a deep breath before turning around on her heels, bracing herself for the conversation she knew would come one time or another. With a small, formal smile stretching the curve of her lips, Mehmal regarded the intimidating personality of Ibrahim Yazdani with an air of indifference, her insides, however, clenching in fear.
His face which was previously contorted up in hesitancy crumpled in relief as Mehmal's face entered his vision, probably from the fact that the house was filled with people and the odds of his encountering someone else were quite high. And she knew he would not want that.
"Assalam-o-Alikum." He greeted her with a tight smile which Mehmal returned with a slight nod of her head.
"Waalikum-Assalam." She replied before studying his face, waiting for him to declare the reason of his approach.
Ibrahim, however, only stood his ground and that too, silently. He only observed Mehmal's face for a second before taking a step forward and coming to stand beside her instead of in front. Looking ahead with face held high, he gazed out at the vastness of the lawn sprawled before him and the hues of blue that covered the sky in perfect sophistication.
"Yes?" When Ibrahim failed to utter a word, Mehmal questioned, a polite smile now curving her lips as she too joined shoulders with him, staring out, trying to find one final spot of beauty where her eyes could rest.
"Why did you lie inside?" Ibrahim began with a small voice, but the firmness and confident in it made Mehmal instantly turn her head towards him, his sharp jaw and planes of cheek entering her vision, making her declare that the man really was handsome - the rumours were no exaggeration.
"Excuse me?" She said after a moment of shock - how could he possibly know that she was lying? Other than him being a mind-reader, which he clearly could not be, there was no way on earth he could know that she was lying.
Mehmal, however, decided to stand her ground and test the waters, not going to give in to him as of yet. There was no way he could possibly know, he might just be deducing. If she was fortunate enough, she could falsify his deduction, make him believe that he had just assumed wrong. After all, he was no mind-reader - he could not be.
"Why did you lie to everyone inside, Mehmal?" He repeated, still refusing to take his eyes off the sky above, his voice unusually calm, one that hinted at the storm ahead.
"I did not lie, why would I do that?" Mehmal contorted her face up in confusion and disgust, punctuating her voice with it too.
"That is exactly what I am asking. Why would you do that?" Ibrahim asked with a hint of confusion in his voice, making Mehmal chew her insides, but thankfully, he was not looking her face.
He was too busy running his eyes over the sky, making Mehmal confess that it was just a strange way of intimidating her, making her say things she would otherwise not dare to. It would be a lot easier if he could just look at her and she could lie while looking right at his face without a bat of an eye. But he wasn't and it made Mehmal curse him inwardly. The man did know that it is much easier to lie to people when they are looking; judging and looking closely at their expressions and reactions, one could easily change his own words, expressions and even stances accordingly.
"I think you are misunderstood, I was not lying. Besides, can I lie about her state?" Mehmal played the emotional card, hoping he would buy it like everyone else had.
But she knew even then that he would not. If the man had not bought her previous explanations, he most definitely wound not pay a heed to her emotional rants. He was far too intelligent, her mind thought while her subconscious raised an eyebrow in disappointment.
"Well, I don't know, but you were doing just that inside." Ibrahim shrugged his shoulders, his confident and indifferent attitude weakening her resolve.
How can he possibly know? Nobody else did!
"No, I wasn't..." Mehmal began but the man chose this particular moment to turn towards her, effectively stopping her, a small smile on his lips.
"I think we should cut the chase, Mehmal, it will get us absolutely nowhere." Ibrahim Yazdani said and Mehmal regarded him with an air of bewilderment before letting out a deep, troubled sigh.
She looked up in his eyes and finally understood that the man was not playing before, he was just giving her time to utter the truth. By not looking at her, Ibrahim Yazdani had seated himself at the back, his stature not intimidating but now that he looked at her right in the eye with an unflinching and determined stare, he chilled her to the bone.
"Yes, I lied." Mehmal agreed, huffing out in annoyance before turning her around and this time, it was Mehmal who was staring out at the sky and Ibrahim was left looking at her.
"Can we sit somewhere?" Mehmal witnessed the change in his tone with surprise, the stiffness in it softening a little, giving way to a gentler one.
"Sure." Mehmal said before pointing towards the chairs in the lawn on which Hemayal and she had sat only two days ago.
Two days? She thought with surprise as Ibrahim extended his hand forward, gesturing her to take the lead. Only two days since she had convinced Hemayal to go see Ibrahim's mother in the hospital? Only two days since she and Dadu had masterly persuaded Hemayal that Ibrahim's mother was asking after her? Allah, just two days?
"Now, why did you lie?" Ibrahim asked once they had seated themselves on the chairs, both of their directions opposite to the main door of the house.
"How do you even know, seriously?" Mehmal raised an eyebrow in surprise as she questioned, sincerely wanting to know.
"You are not a very good liar, that is all I can say." Ibrahim said, his words not coming out as kind as he intended but nevertheless, it was a compliment.
"Your family bought it." Mehmal thought necessary to remind, taking offence at his otherwise compliment.
"Well, I'm not my family. But whatever, that is not important. My main concern is why you did that?" Ibrahim looked sideways at her, fist placed below the chin while his elbow rested against the sidearm, legs crossed, looking effortlessly chic.
"She does not want to see you." Mehmal said slowly, tearing her eyes away from his unrelenting gaze, fearing that if she looked any longer, he would read her like an open book, ashamed that she was spilling Hemayal's secrets.
But the latter did not make her feel much bad for long - the man she was telling all of this to was Ibrahim Yazdani, one man who was not a stranger to her cousin, one man who had a right to know what went on in her cousin's life. What harm could possibly come from telling him?
"I figured that much out, Mehmal. Why?" Ibrahim was too smart a man; she rolled her eyes inwardly as she cast him a sideways glance.
"You can't expect her to react normally and rush to meet you when you just materialize out of nowhere, back in her life when she is already a mess." Mehmal said, the firmness of her voice and truth of her words making Ibrahim suddenly straighten a little in his place.
"I understand. She is going through a lot at this time." Ibrahim said, more to himself than to the woman who sat beside her.
"Yes, she is." Mehmal whispered while nodding her head, lips pressed as images of a heartbroken and agonized Hemayal flashed behind her lids.
"And what happened to her foot, or were you lying about that too?" Ibrahim suddenly remembered and asked, turning his head around to look at her with narrowed gaze.
"No, that was true. She injured it." Mehmal said, saying without emotions as she looked ahead.
"Mehmal, I really need to see..." Ibrahim suddenly spoke out but he had not quite finished when Mehmal cut him off.
"No, Ibrahim, you don't, and please do not insist. She was close to Dadu, very much, and she is so broken right now that I can't even find the courage in me to look at her. I don't think you meeting her at this time is a good idea." Mehmal stated forcefully, almost desperately, as voices of Hemayal grew louder in her head.
I don't want to see him, Mehmal.
"I understand, Mehmal, I do. But what harm could possibly come if I meet her? Why doesn't she want to meet me?" Ibrahim asked, the question stated in a confused tone.
"She is not prepared for it yet, Ibrahim. You do know that it has been ages since either of you saw any of the other, right?" Mehmal said what she thought was right.
Hemayal had not told her why she did not want to meet Ibrahim but Mehmal had guessed it on her own accord. What else could be the reason of her refusal to meet Ibrahim Yazdani other than the fact that she was just not ready? What else could possibly be the reason when Ibrahim Yazdani himself expressed the desire to meet Hemayal Khakwani?
"Yes, it has been ages, a lot more than that even, but her being not prepared to meet me is an absurd excuse, Mehmal, and even you know that. What kind of preparation does she need to meet me?" Ibrahim exclaimed slowly, voice not rising as he debated.
"I don't know, that is what she told me, and that is what I'm telling you. Absurd or not, you have to respect it." Mehmal crossed her arms across her chest as she said, tightening her hold around the sweater she wore.
"I respect it, I respect it all right, but you have to let me meet her once. To clear the air, to morally support her, to offer my condolences or whatever you like to think, but you have to let me see her, Mehmal." Ibrahim urged, closing eyes momentarily as he checked himself.
"All right, I'll ask her, but if she says no, then it's a no. Remember that." Mehmal warned before standing up and Ibrahim was quick to nod.
"I think you are being selfish here, but whatever, I'll ask." She did not forget to add before taking a step in the direction of the door.
"Not selfish, Mehmal, worried." Mehmal did hear his small voice but she chose not to respond - too surprised at the turn of events the afternoon had mysteriously taken.
|¤¤¤|
1:15pm
"She said no." Mehmal said as soon as she was sure she had entered Ibrahim's hearing range.
Ibrahim, who had been sitting on the chair, relaxed and looking down at his phone, legs crossed while soft wind played with his hair, instantly turned his head around in his place, lips pressing in a thin line as Mehmal's words danced his eardrum. A disappointed expression came to settle on his face before a soft sigh left his lips and he stood up, concealing his expressions behind a façade of understanding.
"Did she give a reason other than not being ready?" He asked as he forced his hands to cross across the chest, looking as unconcerned and distant as Mehmal expected him to.
Men like Ibrahim are strange beings - they can change their demeanour from gentle to firm in a matter of few seconds, from worried to unconcerned in a few beats of the heart. The encounter that she had with him only today cleared a lot of things in her mind regarding this mysterious man, and she wished Hemayal could see that too.
"She says that she can't come to you downstairs and you walking up to her in a house full of people is quite overstretched, not to mention absurd. So, she said that you two can meet some other time. After all, there will be a lot of times." Mehmal answered thoroughly and Ibrahim looked at her passively, registering each word with sensibility.
"I do not have a problem walking up to her room in a house full of guests." Ibrahim said after a moment of complete thought.
"But she does." Mehmal said, a small, uncomfortable smile curving the lips.
"Fine, whatever she wishes." Ibrahim finally gave up, much to Mehmal's relief and took a step in her step direction before coming to a slow stop again.
"I'll be inside, they must be wondering where I am. Allah Hafiz." Ibrahim said tightly after a small sigh.
Nodding in Mehmal's direction with a small smile lifting both corners of his lips, he gestured farewell and crossed her with brisk steps, walking on the lush green grass towards the driveway. Mehmal turned her head around and saw his disappearing figure clad in black Shalwar Qameez and a shawl draped over his shoulders, the feet caged in black leather Peshawari chappal with open-toe design complementing his look in absolute sophistication.
Ibrahim Yazdani was handsome, but then again, when had she ever not known that? His exquisiteness was quite famous within the walls of their house; his elegance had always been the topic within their rooms - especially Hemayal Khakwani's.
Talking of which, she remembered her wounded cousin sitting in her room upstairs, hurt and absolutely confused. Shaking her head slightly after a moment, Mehmal turned around on her heels and followed the steps Ibrahim had taken a few minutes ago. Stepping inside, she heard voices coming from the drawing room. Effectively blocking them out, she walked deeper into the house and took one of the two ornate spiral staircases, ascending them while words carefully formed in her mind.
"Hemayal?" Mehmal stole a look inside the room before completely stepping in.
"He went away?" Mehmal saw Hemayal pacing the room, her steps slow and limping but the worry on her face spoke volumes.
"No, he is still sitting downstairs in the drawing room but he said it was okay if you did not want to meet him." Mehmal walked further inside the room and took the seat previously occupied by Hemayal.
The sigh of relief that left Hemayal's lips added nothing but concern to Mehmal's already confused thoughts. Hemayal had always been cautious and sensitive when it came to Ibrahim Yazdani but she had never reacted like this when he was the subject.
"I think what you did was wrong. If he wanted to meet you once, you should have respected that." Mehmal looked at Hemayal who had although stopped pacing worriedly around the room but still stood on her injured foot, unconscious of the pain that must be flowing through her, "And sit down, your foot is better now but still isn't completely healed. You will only damage the wound more."
Hemayal nodded without a word and came to sit in front of Mehmal; eyebrows still creased in deep thoughts despite the relief Mehmal's news had previously gifted her.
"I don't have to respect anyone I don't want to, nor do I have to meet anyone if my heart does not want to. Stop trying to make me feel bad about my decisions, Mehmal." Hemayal replied in a tone that was harder than anything Mehmal had ever witnessed come out her mouth.
"I'm not trying to make you feel bad; I'm trying to make you see. What you just did to him is quite humiliating." Mehmal said, eyebrows creased in annoyance and anger now.
"How is my refusing to meet him humiliating? For all I know, I have a right to make this decision without anyone making me feel bad about it." Hemayal was bent on her point, point which Mehmal just could not see.
"Hemayal, the man wanted to meet you, to see you for himself because he was worried about you and you made all those nonsense excuses of injured foot and house full of guests. You do know that he can come to your room even if the house is full of people, right?" Mehmal sounded angry, much to Hemayal's surprise.
"No, he can't. I have given him no such permission, and they were not nonsense excuses to me. They were both genuine. Isn't my foot injured? Isn't the house filled with guests?" Hemayal asked, her voice turning angry too,
"Your foot is injured, yes, but it has healed enough to allow you to walk a little. And yes, the house is filled with people but none of them would have even batted an eye if he came to your room, and you know it too." Mehmal's voice rose suddenly and Hemayal finally gave up, leaning back in her chair as tiredness suddenly found refuge in her - plain exhaustion, utter fatigue.
"Honestly, Mehmal, I'm tired, seriously. I have had enough of you defending him." Hemayal shook her head before tipping it back a little, suddenly too tired.
"I'm not defending him, Hami." Mehmal's voice softened a little as she spoke, "But your aggressiveness is beyond me, your reaction is beyond me. Yes, you have a past with him; yes, you become uncomfortable when he is the subject, but as far as I know, Hemayal Khakwani never hated Ibrahim Yazdani. What happened?"
"Life happened, Mehmal, life happened." Hemayal spoke softly, her voice climbing the height of exhaustion.
"Look, Hemayal, I understand your concerns, at least I'm trying to. But you have to understand his concerns too, he was worried." Mehmal began in a low and calculating voice as she cautiously eyed Hemayal.
And Hemayal Khakwani only scoffed in response.
Straightening her spine, she shook her head a little, a small sneer coming to rest on her lips, making her strikingly different from the Hemayal she had always known. The hint of mockery and cynical amusement that suddenly came to reside on her face made Mehmal's thoughts stumble before falling flat on their face, a bewildered expression settling on her face.
"Please, Mehmal, quit joking. You want to make me believe that he was worried about me? That I mean something to him? Please." Hemayal sneered while rolling her eyes.
"Yes, he was. At least that is what his actions spoke downstairs." Mehmal was firm on her belief, total contradictory to that of Hemayal's.
"No, he wasn't. I mean absolutely nothing to him." Hemayal stated in a firm tone, almost painful if not for the hardness in her voice.
"Hemayal, the whole damn world combined can mean nothing to him but you will always mean something to him, if not everything. Always." Mehmal said, almost too desperately and the small scoff again touched Hemayal's face, making slight annoyance rise in Mehmal.
"I don't think so." Hemayal stated with a frown, eyes unfocused, heart sceptical.
"Yes, you will. Because you are not just Hemayal Khakwani for him." Mehmal said in utmost desperation.
However, she took a small pause before continuing her emotionally uttered words, her tone turning mature, trying to make Hemayal see things she had blinded herself to.
"You're Mrs. Ibrahim Yazdani."
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Hello, you guys!
Do tell me what you think after the shock has passed!
Till next time,
Salam!