rāh-e-dūr-e-ishq meñ rotā hai kyā
aage aage dekhiye hotā hai kyā
~MEER TAQI MEER
•••
After breakfast Hooriya insisted to give Meher a house tour. They had started from the top floor seen the huge library and Arham's study, the first floor held a laundry room, four guest bedroom and Arham's parents bedroom as well.
The ground floor had the living room the one she had seen yesterday, the baithak and the kitchen and dinning room and an indoor swimming pool.
Hooriya was showing around Meher her garden, the one she personally tend to.
"This one right here is a black rose. It's never flowered yet but I'm not the one to give up." She said pointing at a rose plant.
"These are pin.."
"Pink carnations." Meher completed her sentence. "I use to love them." She said, Meher had seen pink carnations the last time on her sixteenth birthday, this flower had somehow become a reminder of her loss.
"Use to ? You don't anymore ?"
"No, I -."
"Hooriya." Even though Meher hadn't had heard him speak more than monosyllables since yesterday she knew who the voice belonged to.
"Good morning Arham Sahab, ho gayi aapki subha." Hooriya greeted him with a smile. (Good morning, finally your day has begun.)
Arham wanted to go to his wife and wrap his arms around her petite frame and take in her scent, filling his lungs with her. But all the love and warmth he felt dissipated as the other girl came into his vision.
He felt a strong, pressing dislike for her, almost classifiable as hatred. This woman was responsible for driving a wedged between him and his Hoor, she was nothing but a characterless woman who for some amount of money was ready to sell herself to a married man.
This was the woman her mother and wife had chosen for him to make his kids with.
Arham's eyes narrowed at Meher then shifting to meet Hooriya.
"I'm going to have lunch with a client, no need to send food for me." He said in a dry tone and turned to leave without a goodbye.
"Arham." Hooriya called making his stop. "Meher and I are going shopping today, so send back the driver and the car." She said. Arham left without giving a reply.
"Shopping ?" Meher asked as soon as her weird emotionless husband left.
"Don't you want to buy your books ? And we need to get you new clothes, jewellery, shoes, makeup, bags everything. It's sort of a tradition whenever a new bride comes home, she does not wear anything she has already worn. She leave all he baggage in the past and starts afresh."
Meher nodded her head, aware about the dual meaning of Hooriya's words. Hooriya was like a breath of fresh air in Meher's life, although she had barely known her for even a complete day, Hooriya gave Meher hope.
•••
Meher and Hooriya had left for shopping shortly. They picked up all the books Meher needed and some stationery as well and then left to buy a new wardrobe for Meher.
They entered a two story boutique at a prime location in Lahore, a place Meher wouldn't even think of entering into, even while seeking out for a job. The place looked high end.
"Let's shop till we drop." Hooriya winked at her making her smile. Hooriya tugged Meher along and both of them started going through aisles and aisles of beautiful clothes.
Silks, linens, chiffon,georgette, cottons, jute, rayon this place was Meher's heaven. She let her fingers run through the fabric, feeling them, soaking in their beauty. Her eyes skilfully skimmed through the zaris, prints and embroideries.
"How's this ?" Hooriya picked out a dress and held it against her body. It was a yellow chiffon kurta with white pants and a printed organza dupatta.
"It's pretty but I think you should opt for darker colours it would really look great against your skin tone." Meher advices and Hooriya nodded in agreement.
After shopping for at least two hours and after spending thousands of their husband's money, both of them left the boutique with shoppers in their hands laughing about at the poor mimicry Hooriya did of the billing lady.
"Let me call Salim bhai." Hooriya said and made the call to their driver.
"Hooriya baaji." Meher said. "Uhh aap Lahore he rehti hai ? I mean aap .." Meher said trying to find the right words. ( So you stay in Lahore ? I mean do you .."
"I do, I do stay in Lahore and yes I stay in the same house." She replied sensing what really Meher wanted to ask her.
"I'm sorry I didn't want to sound rude, I just -."
"Rude ? You weren't rude. I understand Meher, you have been thrown into this situation, been married off and sent away with a stranger to a completely unknown place. You are bound to have questions and I promise I'll answer to them as much as I can ." Hooriya gave her a tight lipped smile and Meher nodded and smiled at her thankfully.
"Aapka nikkah hua hai ?" Meher asked out of curiosity. Hooriya's hands became clammy, her throat felt like sand, what was she to say to Meher ? (Are you married ?)
"I ." Hooriya gulped. "I'm .."
Hooriya let out a sigh of relief and thanked Allah as the car pulled in front of them preventing Hooriya from telling Meher the truth or commit a haram (sin) by lying.
They quickly got into the back seat and the car rode off towards the Butt mansion.
"You have a great taste in clothing. Is that going to be your subject of masters ?" Hooriya asked Meher.
Meher looked down at her hands in embarrassment, she wasn't the one to gracefully take a compliment and own it.
"I'm not very good, I do want to take it as my main subject but I'm doubtful."
"Hey ! You are great and we are getting you into the best fashion school in Lahore." Hooriya said giving her hand a squeeze.
"Thanks Hooriya baaji. No one has ever done for me the things you have in just the past 24 hour." Meher said sincerely.
"Compared to what you are doing for me, this is nothing Meher." Hooriya said in a soft voice.
"Huh ?" Meher asked confused.
"Nothing, I keep mumbling." Hooriya side with a big smile plastered on her face.
The rest of the journey the two chit- chatted about small things, they found out they had a lot of similar interests, they both liked their chai, both loved Sufi music, both their favourite poet was Ahmad Faraz and apparently both loved to cook.
"Are you my long lost sister ?" Hooriya joked making Meher giggle. It had been years since Meher had truly laughed or been happy.
The car pulled in front of their home, the two of them collected their bags and got out of the car heading inside.
"Come help me in the kitchen to prepare dinner if you aren't that tired, I promise to treat you with my adrak wali chai (ginger tea) and Faraz sahab ke ghazals." Hooriya said.
"I'll be down in fifteen." Meher replied with a bright smile and rushed up to get changed.
•••
Dinner had been quite an entertaining affair. Although it had been just Hooriya and Meher the two had enjoyed themselves thoroughly.
"Hooriya baaji.. uh.. Ar..Arham doesn't like dining at home ?" She asked trying to find something about her husband.
"Well it's nothing like that. He has been busy, just..just give him some time Meher I promise he is a good man." She said with a small smile.
"Now common lets listen to some nice soulful music before hitting our beds."
Hooriya and Meher had taken a seat on the pink silken sofa placed in the baithak.
"I love this place." Meher said. "It's my favourite section of the house."
"Mine too." Hooriya chuckled.
"Gulnaz please chai le aana." Hooriya called loudly. (Please get some tea)
"Ji baaji." Came the reply immediately.
"What was it like at home, at your parents place ?" Hooriya asked Meher as they sat waiting for their tea.
Meher looked at her for a second contemplating if she should trust a total stranger, who had been nothing but kind to her with her true feelings about her family, a family which never felt like one after her Baba's demise.
"Back at Baba's place, I mean when we lived in Karachi, it was great. We had everything, servants at our beck and call, a huge house, the softest bed and the finest silk, life was really really good." She said with a small smile.
"It was my sixteenth birthday, my eldest brother Daniyal was coming home from the States after four years, we were so happy." She said recollecting the day her life took a flip.
"Baba had just brought Bhai home, they had just crossed the threshold, we hadn't even sat down as a whole family again when Baba... he.. he received a call, the sugar mills we owned caught fire because of over heating of machine due to a workers mistake, our mills burnt and they called Baba when most of it was already lost and nothing could be saved. Baba couldn't take it, he had worked all his life for that, he believed he had nothing apart from that dreaded mill, maybe he loved his mill more than he did love us. He left us, left us along with that mill." She said unemotionally.
"Daniyal bhai didn't want to stay aboard on a sinking ship and as soon as Baba's janaza (funeral rites) was lifted and tasbih (prayers) read he left Pakistan. After Amma's iddat (period of waiting and mourning for the widow) we were asked to empty the house, our house was being sold for peanuts Baba had loaned from the bank against our home." She said to Hooriya who looked at Meher with sad eyes.
"After a year, Daniyal bhai wrote to us that he had married a white woman and in a few months would become a father, Junaid bhai then brought home a girl, mother of his unborn child, Amma had to marry them to save whatever she could. Biggest mistake of her life. Rukaiya Bhabhi was worse than those witches they show on daily soaps." Meher gave a sad laugh wiping her moistened eyes.
"I'm so sorry Meher." Hooriya said holding Meher's hand in hers.
"It's not your fault Hooriya baaji. And honestly I'm over it, you know when I left their house, I so confidently told them that I never wanted to see any of their faces, but I doubt if that's what i really want, jo bhi ho, hai toh mere apne he na." (Whatever said and done they are my own blood)
"You are an amazing person Meher, I can't -."
"Baaji ae lo gram gram cha." Gulnaz walked in with a kettle of tea and cups. (Here is your hot pot of tea).
After chit chatting for some, both the ladies passed time as they were waiting for their husband to return.
When Meher let out a yawn, Hooriya looked at the grandfathers clock in the room. It was past midnight.
"Go to sleep Meher."
"I..Arham isn't home yet." She said in a small voice, looking at her feet.
"He will come home soon, and whenever he does he'll come to you, don't worry about him and go sleep." Hooriya said getting up herself from the couch.
"Let's go, even I'm off to bed." She said and both the ladies ascended the stairs to their room.
"Good night Meher." Hooriya said entering her bedroom and closing the door behind her.
Hooriya heard Meher walk up the stairs and close the oak doors of her bedroom. She waited for a couple of more seconds before coming out of her room.
She had been trying to contact Arham since evening but all her calls went straight to voice mail. After seeing Arham in his intoxicated state last night Hooriya couldn't help the horrible thoughts from entering her head.
She fished out her phone and quickly dialled the only person she knew who could help her.
"Hello ?"
"Hello. Is Arham with you ?" She asked crossing her fingers behind her back.
"Na salam na dua, badal toh gayi ho Hooriya mera yaar sach he keh raha tha." (No greetings huh, my friend was right, you have really changed.)
"Please Yusuf, is he with you ?" She asked worry laced in her voice.
"Why are you doing this Hoor ?" Yusuf asked not bothering to answer her question. "I've never seen him so broken Hooriya, and I know you don't need me to tell you that, why are you doing this to him, to yourself."
"Yusuf ple-."
"He is here, already fed him and tucked him to bed. As much as I love him Hoor, I don't want to nurse his heartbreak. You can still undo your mistake." He said and cut the call.
Hooriya close her eyes tightly as tears threatened to spill.
"If it was up to me, I'd never let him go through any pain. Only if it were up to me." She said as the tears rolled down her cheek.
AN : so Meher is back yay !
Who is this Yusuf huh :P
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I hope you enjoyed the chapter