Chapter 5
Tayi jaan : Riffat (Zaviyar's mom)
Taya-jaan : Nauman (Zaviyar's Dad)
°°°°°
We were all tired and were escorted to different rooms to rest while tayi-jaan took charge of getting everything ready.
I had barely begun to process the grand, eerie beauty of the haveli when a persistent knocking pulled me out of my daze.
I opened the door, and there stood Khwaish, beaming at me like a sunflower in full bloom, her pearly smile lighting up the dim corridor.
Her eyes clinked with childlike innocence.
"Chaliye aapi dinner lag chuka hai, sab aapka intezaar kar rahe hain.", She was dressed simply, in a plain kurti set, yet looked effortlessly graceful.
(Let's go, sis. Everyone is waiting for you.)
Her open hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves as she spoke with tenderness. I smiled at her and was about to follow her when the sharp ring of my phone made my steps halt.
" Mein yeh call receive karke aati hoon.", Khwaish nodded with understanding and turned to leave, but then paused mid-step, glancing back at me with a hint of caution in her voice and posture.
(Alright, you go ahead. I'll take this call and join you.)
" Direction yaad rakhiyega, aur haan-west wing mein mat jaiyega.
", she walked away swiftly, her footsteps fading into the silence of the corridor.
I stood rooted, staring after her like a character in one of those horror films Adhira always forced me to watch.
The kind where someone gives a vague warning and the main character still ends up poking around the exact spot they were told to avoid.
Curiously breaking into forbidden rooms, and buildings.
(Remember the directions, and yes-don't go to the west wing.)
My overactive imagination kicked in instantly. What if there was a ghost in this haveli? One that had been wandering its dark hallways for the last twenty-five years in search of a soul to possess? What if that soul was mine?
I shivered and muttered a mental curse towards Adhira for every late-night horror marathon we'd ever endured. Pulling myself together, I muttered a quick dua under my breath and blew gently over myself, like I'd seen my mumma do during storms and nightmares.
Nope. Not me. I wasn't going anywhere near that west wing.
I wasn't about to become the overly curious idiot in a haunted movie.
No thanks. I'd rather cuddle and fall asleep in my Hello Kitty onesie and snore in peace than find myself face-to-face with some Victorian-era nun grinning at me at 2 a.m.
The shrill ringtone of my phone dragged me back to reality. Again. Sighing, I stepped out of the room while trying to make the client understand that I would get their documents ready.
" Mrs Chopra. Don't worry I'll handle everything. We are already having a lead as you know. "
As I walked through the hallways, i failed to notice how far my feet had carried me.
The walls had changed, and the lights here flickered a little too much for comfort.
My mind had been so engrossed in the call that I hadn't noticed the subtle shift in the air around me.
I ended the call and finally looked up, only to find myself standing in front of an enormous portrait of a man in ancient royal robes, staring straight at me. His stance demanded respect.
Something about the emptiness of the hallway around me unsettled me deeply. I turned on my heel slowly, scanning the space-and that's when it hit me. I had no idea where I was. Not a clue.
Had I wandered straight into the one place I had mentally sworn not to step a foot into?
I didn't know where I was but I know one thing.
I am fucked...
Safiya let out a tired breath, frustrated after going around in circles trying to find her way out. She had come across two glass doors, both securely locked. The entrance she'd used earlier was nowhere to be seen.
Anyone else might have called her dumb for getting stuck like this-but honestly, she was scared. She'd seen enough horror movies to know this is how it all begins.
What if I get stuck here and get reincarnated into another world?
What if a ghost attacks me?
Ya Allah, bacha lena.
Murmuring a quiet prayer under her breath, she finally turned toward the only hallway she had avoided so far-dimly lit, unlike the well-lit one she was standing in.
Cautiously, she stepped into it, her eyes scanning the surroundings.
What stood out to her were the portraits lined up on the walls like ornaments.
After facing endless dead ends and useless balconies, she was completely worn out. Letting Khwaish leave her alone was a mistake. With a tired sigh, her eyes fell on the regal-looking people framed in the portraits, all dressed like royalty.
"Yah Allah, yeh ghar hain ya bhul bhulaiya. Ek touh yaha network bhi nhi hain, pta nhi yaha loug kese- " She turned sharply, the soft swish of her clothes brushing against the marble as she rushed through the corridor-only to collide into a solid, unmovable form.
(Oh God, is this a house or a maze? There's not even a network here. I don't know how people even- )
{ Play the song from 3:03 - if you want to feel butterflies in your stomach. Trust me once and just listen to that part. You'll thank me later. It's one of the most underrated melodies ?? ??? }
Her breath caught.
In that split second, her body lost balance, her heartbeat stuttered-but before gravity could claim her, a hand gripped her wrist, strong and certain. Another arm slid instinctively around her waist, drawing her against a chest that radiated heat and strength.
She froze, eyes wide as she found herself inches away from an unknown man. His touch, though firm, was gentle, as if he was afraid she might shatter. His fingers curled around her wrist like they were meant to be there, like her skin was a secret he'd just discovered.
She could feel the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm where it had unknowingly come to rest. Her own heart, in contrast, thundered against her ribcage-loud, erratic, completely traitorous. She dared to look up.
And there they were-his eyes. Dark, deep, impossibly magnetic.
They held her in place, not with force, but with gravity, like the world had suddenly found its axis in his gaze.
He wasn't blinking. Just staring, as if trying to memorize her face, every breath she took, every tremble in her lips.
Her lungs forgot how to work. The air between them was thick-almost sacred.
She could feel the pressure of his fingers on her back, the way his thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist. It was the smallest touch, but it sent a thousand sparks dancing up her spine.
Safiya stood still, caged in a moment she didn't want to end. The man's grip was protection and possession, all at once. The warmth of him seeped through every layer of her being, like her body had known this touch long before her mind could.
Neither moved.
The world had blurred, the edges softened, the sound faded-until there was only the thundering of hearts, the heat of skin, the silent exchange of stares, and the undeniable pull between two souls who had just collided... not by chance, but by fate.
His velvet-rich, sinfully smooth voice cut through the silence like quiet thunder in the night's embrace.
"Aap dekhke nhi chal sakti.", She quickly pulled her hand away from his grip, the warmth of his touch still lingering on her skin.
Without thinking, she brought her other hand to her wrist, gently rubbing the spot as if trying to steady herself, trying to make sense of the sudden rush in her chest and the way everything had gone still for a moment too long.
(Can't you watch where you're going?)
"Sorry, mera dhyaan nhi tha...", she mumbled, avoiding his intense gaze.
Then, cautiously, her eyes lifted-and she froze.
The man before her looked like he had stepped out of one of those very portraits, dressed in a traditional white shalwar kameez, a royal shawl casually draped around him.
His posture screamed authority with his head held high, hands resting behind him.
She gulped as dark orbs stared at her, making her feel intimidated by his intense gaze.
(Sorry, I wasn't paying attention...)
"Koun hain aap, aur haveli ke iss wing mein kese aayi?", he asked, lifting a brow at her like she was a trespasser, the formal attire she was wearing a stark contrast to her surroundings.
(Who are you, and how did you end up in this wing of the mansion?)
"Pero se!", she shot back before realizing how ridiculous that sounded. She immediately smacked her lips together, regretting the sass.
(With my feet!)
"Kya?", he asked taken aback by the sudden sharp-tongued answer.
(What?)
"Kaan kharab hain aapke?", she asked, now more irritated than embarrassed. She had no time for this nonsense when dinner was waiting. Hours of driving and the motion sickness had left her so hungry she could eat anything served to her.
(Are your ears not working?)
"Humein bin matlab ki maskari bilkul pasand nhi hain." he said with his jaw tightening, clearly trying to keep his cool.
(I absolutely detest unnecessary sarcasm.)
"Uh... Okay! Yeh jaanke mein kya karu?" she tried not to laugh, turning her back to him and pretending to be interested in a nearby portrait.
(Uh... okay! And what exactly am I supposed to do with that information?)
" Wese yeh buddhe uncle ki photo kitni purani hain? Dikhne mein touh lag raha hain Humayun ke generation se hain. ", she asked turning to him briefly.
( By the way, how old is the uncle in this picture? He looks like he belongs to Humayun's generation. )
His eyes widened in shock listening to her talk so casually about his great grandfather.
"Aap tameez se baat nhi kar sakti?" he stepped closer, clearly not done with her yet.
(Can't you speak with manners?)
"Tameez koun hain? Wese mujhe karni bhi nhi kisi Tameez se baat." she retorted, crossing her arms, her chin tilted in defiance.
(Who is this 'Tameez'? Anyway, I don't feel like talking to anyone by that name.)
"Dafa hojao.", he barked, gritting his teeth. He raised his right hand and flicked his wrist, a sharp sideways sweep of his fingers.
(Get lost.)
"Excuse me? What?", she blinked, trying to process if he had just dismissed her. Did this man just order her as though he were some king and she- a mere peasant?
"Dafa hojao yaha se.", he repeated, louder this time.
(Get the hell out of here.)
" Aap hote koun hain, mujhpe chillane vale?", she shot back. He was just about to walk away, but her tone made him pause and turn around.
( Who exactly are you to yell at me like that?)
"Hum-", he began, but she cut him off, having had enough.
(I-)
"Aap jouh koi bhi ho.", she said, pointing at him and snapping her fingers in his face. " you don't get to speak to me like that "
(Whoever you are, you don't get to speak to me like that.)
"Mein Safiya Shah hu, aur mere upar koi nhi chillata.", she said crossing her arms over her chest, glaring at the man in front of her.
(I'm Safiya Shah, and no one raises their voice at me.)
"Jaanti bhi ho mein koun hu?", he stepped forward, voice low but laced with threat. She instinctively stepped back. Yes, she was afraid but she wouldn't show her vulnerable side to anyone.
(Do you even know who I am?)
"Kyu? Aap bhul gaye aap koun hain? Abhi side hatiye, achche khase mood ka bhaaji pao kardiya.", she muttered, turning away from him and glaring at the painting ahead.
(Why? Did you forget who you are? Now move aside, you just ruined my perfectly good mood.)
"Ladki, pure Azamgarh mein koi humse iss tarah baat nhi karta.
", he said in a dangerously calm voice, his words carried firmness and underlying anger as he tried not to snap at her.
This girl before him was testing his patience like no one had before.
His hand itched to pull out the gun and point it at her, if it meant she would shut up.
(Girl, no one in all of Azamgarh dares to talk to me like that.)
"Mein karungi, koi problem hain aapko?", she mocked him, not bothering to hide the malice in her tone. He exhaled harshly, closing his eyes for a moment as if physically pained by her words.
( I will. Do you have a problem with that?)
"Achcha yeh batao dining area kaha hain, mene kisi ka katl kar dena hain agar mene ek aur baar iss buddhe ki painting dekhi.", she muttered while eyeing one particularly smug-looking portrait.
(Now tell me where the dining area is, because I swear I'll kill someone if I have to look at that old man's painting one more time.)
"Zabaan itni chalti hain, thode pair bhi chalalo.", he scoffed before turning around and walking away. At the end of the hallway, he paused briefly to glance back at her before disappearing into his room.
(Your tongue works so well-try using your legs too.)
"Isse touh mein dekh lungi, paagal, badtameez, pta nhi kya samajhta hain khudko as if kahi ka nawab ho.", she narrowed her eyes into slits watching him stare at her. Oh how much she wanted to kick him right in his face.
(I'll deal with him later- stupid, ill-mannered man, thinks he's some kind of prince or what!)
"Jaahil, gawar-", she cursed under her breath before storming off down another corridor, which thankfully had better lighting, though she was still lost.
(Uncivilized, illiterate-)
"Mujhe pata tha aap gum ho jaayengi, isiliye mein khud hi lene aa gaya aapko.", she let out a sigh of relief when she heard Khwaish's voice from nearby, making Safiya breathe a sigh of relief.
(I knew you'd get lost, that's why I came to get you myself.)
"Waise aap West Wing mein kya kar rahi thi?", Khwaish asked as she took her hand, leading her away from the maze.
(By the way, what were you doing in the West Wing?)
"Galti se chali gayi thi waha.", Safiya replied, glancing back once, silently swearing to herself to avoid that place at all costs. Safiya made sure she memorized the ways. After all, the last thing she wants is running into that strange man or worse, ghosts.
(I went there by mistake.)
"Agar aapko ek peaceful life chahiye, toh uss wing mein kabhi mat jaaiyega. Kabhi bhi nahi.", Khwaish whispered to Safiya, who looked at her puzzled by the weird rule. They walked down the stairs towards the dining area. Safiya could hear the whispers and laughs resonating from there.
(If you want a peaceful life, then never go into that wing. Never.)
"Thik hai, lekin kyun?", she asked, her curiosity now fully sparked. As they approached the dining area, her gaze fell on her father and uncle with another man she couldn't see clearly.
(Okay, but why?)
"Uska jawab... woh raha.", Khwaish pointed ahead. Safiya followed her gaze, eyes landing on a broad back-tall, muscular, commanding. She narrowed her eyes.
(The answer to that... is right there.)
They moved closer to the rest of the family, and Riffat greeted them warmly.
"Khwaish beta, itna time laga diya tumne.", Riffat's voice turned everyone's attention toward them. The man who had his back to her finally turned making her heart drop when she finally saw him.
(Khwaish, sweetheart, you took so long.)
"Ammi... Saafi aapi kho gayi thi. Unko dhoondhte dhoondhte mein thak gayi.", Khwaish replied sweetly, making Riffat chuckle.
(Ammi... Saafi aapi got lost. I got tired looking for her.)
But Safiya wasn't listening. Her gaze was locked on him. And his eyes-dark and knowing-were fixed on her.
Who was he?
"Chalo aajao, sab intezaar kar rahe hain.", Riffat gently took Safiya's hand and led her toward him. She stopped in front of the man-her heart practically dropped when the realization hit.
(Come on now, everyone's waiting.)
"Beta, aap inse abhi tak mili nahi... yeh hain Nawab Zaviyar Khan, hamare barey bete."
(Dear, you haven't met him yet... this is Nawab Zaviyar Khan, our eldest son.)
Fuck!
"Uh... Uhm... Hello-", she fumbled, clearly shaken by the sudden bomb that he had dropped.
(Uh... Uhm... Hello-)
"Assalamualaikum... kya aapke sheher mein bado ko salaam dena nahi sikhate?", he questioned, voice laced with sarcasm, his brow arched in mockery, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
(Assalamualaikum... don't they teach you to greet your elders in your city?)
Her heart pounded in her chest. Her hands balled into fists. She really wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. Her hands curled into fists, as her nails dug into her palms. A punch to the face would be quite satisfactory...
"Walikum-assalam, mujhe pata nahi tha ki aapke yahan guests ko har baat pe taana maarna niyam hai.", she retorted, brushing past him.
(Walikum-assalam, I didn't know that in your home, taunting guests is a tradition.)
"Zaviyar beta, tum miley Safi se...", Wajahat asked cheerfully, though his smile faded when Zaviyar simply nodded, ignoring him.. Safiya knitted her brows in confusion, as she looked back at her father who smiled at her. She shrugged off the unsettling feeling in her stomach.
(Zaviyar dear, have you met Safi yet...)
"Ammi, khana lagwaayein.", Zaviyar said as he took the head seat at the table.. Safiya smiled when Khwaish and Kabir sat on either side. She had already started loving their company.
(Ammi, please serve the food.)
But something felt off. Nauman sat to Zaviyar's right, and Riffat to his left. Why was Zaviyar at the head of the table when Nauman was older?
She watched how food was served to Zaviyar first-only then did others get served.
She wondered why everyone was acting like it was normal? She believed patriarchy would be ridiculously worshipped here but was flabbergasted at this new practice.
And when she tried to eat- Khwaish stopped her.
"Bhai jab tak khana shuru nahi karte, humein tab tak intezaar karna padta hai.", Khwaish said softly
(We have to wait until Bhai starts eating.)
"Aur koi ghise pite riwaayat baaqi hai? Woh bhi bata do." Safiya rolled her eyes, annoyed at the weird customs and rules. "Socho agar kisi din unki tabiyat kharab ho jaye, ya khana khane ka mann na ho, tou kya sab bhookhe so jaayein? Kya bekaar ki baat hai."
(Any other outdated traditions left? Might as well tell me those too.
Suppose one day he falls sick or doesn't feel like eating-so no one eats anything? What nonsense.)
"Kam se kam ab tou sab milke khate hain, pehle tou sirf ghar ke mard khate the, phir ladkiyan baad mein." Khwaish said, making Safiya's expression fall.
( At least now we all eat together. Earlier only the men of the house would eat first, and the women would eat after serving them. )
"That's even worse, Khwaish. Aur tum is bekaar riwaaj ko justify kar rahi ho kisi aur zyada ghatiya baat se.
" Safiya let out a breath to calm herself.
She knew they have been living like this for decades but it still didn't sit right with her how the members of the family still believed in all these.
It surprised her that educated individuals in the room seemed to accept these rules without a word. The feminist in her wanted to scream, but she remembered her mother's words echoing in her ears.
"Bohot si cheezen hongi jo tumhein wahan pasand nahi aayengi.
Lekin tumhein chup rehna hai. Yaad rakhna Safiya, yeh sirf chhoti si trip hai.
Hum har galat baat ko theek nahi karsakte, samjhi?
" her mother said while slicing vegetables.
Safiya, seated casually on the kitchen counter, tilted her head in response.
"Main tabhi bolungi Ammi, jab kuch waqai galat hoga." Rabiya turned to her daughter, gently holding her hand.
" They will never change. That's just how they've always been. I don't want you to get involved in all that. Think of it as a passing experience. It's not like you have to live with them forever. "
Safiya nodded. Her mother was right indeed, she didn't need to concern herself much with people who she would have no relation with after the trip. Maybe brief meet ups in the future but not like they would be a part of her life.
Safiya let out a tiny squeak when a hand landed on her shoulder and shook her lightly. Her nervous expression melted into a smile when she saw Riffat standing beside her
" Beta, yeh try karo khaas tumhare liye banaya hain mene", Riffat said as she lovingly served her a portion of nihari, waiting for her reaction. Safiya returned the smile and took a bite-and her eyes widened as the meat melted in her mouth like butter.
( Beta, try this dish. I made it specially for you. )
"Honestly tayi ammi, itna lazeez khana banaya hai aapne.", Safiya said, covering her mouth in amazement, eyes twinkling as she looked at Riffat.
(Honestly, Tayi Ammi, the food you made is absolutely delicious.)
" Mein touh aapke haath chum lu. ", she added before going in for another bite. Anyone unfamiliar with Safiya would've thought she was being dramatic but her love for nihari was out of this world. Her mom rarely made it, given how long it took to make it.
(I could literally kiss your hands right now. )
Riffat laughed softly as Safiya suddenly wrapped her arms around her waist in a quick hug. Her eyes misted as memories of little Safiya flashed before her-tiny arms, cheek kisses, and endless giggles.
Everyone at the table watched the sweet moment with warm smiles. The elders knew how deep their bond went. Years ago, when Riffat had been desperate for a daughter and unable to conceive, Rabiya had placed baby Safiya in her arms, saying, "She's yours too."
Safiya didn't remember any of it-but Riffat never forgot.
" Beti kya aagayi. Hume touh bhul hee gayi aap begum. " Nauman teased, making both Riffat and Safiya laugh, completely unaware of a pair of watchful eyes that hadn't left them.
( Your daughter arrives, and you forgot all about me, dear wife. )
Zaviyar sat silently, watching the girl who had barely arrived and already captured everyone's attention-just like she had all those years ago. Somehow, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and something warm flickered in his chest at the sight of her laughing and glowing with his family.
But that fleeting warmth vanished the moment his gaze landed on Kabir's smirk.
Kabir had been unusually quiet during dinner, but not because he wasn't paying attention.
Quite the opposite- he had been watching his elder brother like a hawk.
And he was stunned. The Zaviyar Khan he knew never let his guard down.
Yet here he was relaxed, even smiling.
"Mujhe behad khushi hai ke tumhe pasand aaya.", Riffat said before placing a sound kiss on her forehead before finally taking her seat.
(I'm so glad you liked it.)
"Pasand? Aap MasterChef mein kyun nahi jaati.
.. Aap kahe bas, main abhi aapki entry karwa deti hoon.
..", Safiya said dramatically, scooping up another bite, eyes closed in joy.
Her eyes closed in bliss. Nevertheless she couldn't help but imagine the heart attack her gym trainer and diet planner was having right now.
Safiya could almost see her gym trainer weeping in agony after each bite she took.
(Liked? You should be on MasterChef... just say the word and I'll get you in right away...)
Zaviyar cleared his throat sharply, a signal to get everyone back on track.
The room fell quiet, almost instantly. He sent a glare toward Kabir, who had the audacity to still look amused.
Safiya frowned at the sudden shift in energy and instantly knew who was responsible-the one and only Sadu Nawab, who behaved like he was in a Sanjay Leela Bhansali movie.
"Tayi Ammi, Zaviyar ko paani dein, lagta hai unke gale mein kharash hai.", she said sweetly, making her parents head snap towards her. Her mother slapped her forehead, while Khwaish bit her lip to stop her laugh. And Kabir? He spat the water he was drinking.
(Tayi Ammi, give Zaviyar some water, I think his throat is sore.)
"Hum khaane ke table par baat nahi karte.", Zaviyar's eyes narrowed into slits when he saw everyone trying to control their laugh. Even his mother- the servants also tried to hide their smiles while some were shocked at the audacity of the girl.
(We don't talk at the dinner table.)
"Dinner ke baad main aapko Vicks chocolate de dungi, aapka gala theek ho jaaye toh kal se tum bhi baat kar paoge.", Zaviyar's jaw tightened when he saw her laughing with Kabir, who looked like he was almost on the verge of falling off from his chair.
(I'll give you a Vicks chocolate after dinner. If your throat gets better, maybe you'll be able to speak tomorrow too.)
"Aapi, what's your life like back there?", Khwaish quickly changed the subject, sensing Zaviyar's annoyance and wanting to avoid more drama.
"Mera zyada tar samay court mein hi nikalta hai, kuch aur karne ka time hi nahi milta.", Safiya answered casually while enjoying the shaahi tukra, her blissful expression making it clear she was in food heaven.
(Most of my time goes into court work. There's barely any time to do anything else.)
"Mera ho gaya, shabba khair. Thanks tayi ammi, mujhe aapke haath ke khane ki aadat na pad jaaye."
(I'm done. Good night. Thanks, Tayi Ammi-hope I don't get addicted to your cooking.)
The sudden ring of her phone broke the moment, and Safiya quickly excused herself, walking away from the table even before anyone else had gotten up.
She had again broken another rule, nobody got up from the table before Zaviyar did.
Bringing phones to the table wasn't allowed.
Rabia and Wajahat smiled apologetically at everyone.
"Tumhari beti bohot pyaari hai, Rabia.", Riffat said softly, her eyes following the girl's retreating figure. Zaviyar rolled his eyes and stood up as well, muttering a gruff Shabba khair before leaving.
(Your daughter is very sweet, Rabia.)
"I'm sorry, Aapa. Yeh ladki bohot baatein karti hai. Usse in sab cheezon ki aadat nahi hai.", Rabiya's voice was apologetic, clearly a little embarrassed.
(I'm sorry, Aapa. This girl talks too much. She's not used to all this.)
"Maafi mat maango, tumhe pata bhi hai kitne dino baad hamara ghar phir se pehle ki tarah khil utha hai.", Riffat said with a soft smile, leaning back in her chair.
(Don't apologize. Do you even realize how long it's been since our home lit up like this again?)
"Mera beta sakht zarur hai, lekin woh hamesha se aisa nahi tha. Yeh toh uske dada jaan ki wajah se..." Riffat's expression grew somber, the air growing heavy with unspoken pain.
(My son is strict, yes. But he wasn't always like this. It's because of his grandfather...)
"Meri bas Allah se dua hai ki shaadi se pehle yeh sudhar jaaye.", Riffat stated, a trace of hope wrapped in sadness.
(I only pray to Allah that he softens after marriage.)
It was truly a heart breaking sight for the others to watch.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward-but heavy. The weight of past wounds still lingered in the air, and the sight of Zaviyar walking away, alone, was somehow the saddest part of it all.
Safiya's laughter lingered like sunlight, while Zaviyar stood cloaked in silence. He watched how she had suddenly appeared and already unknowingly challenged every rule Zaviyar made sure every family member followed.
And for a fleeting second, one might wonder-can light and shadow ever belong to the same world?
I tried to give them the most soul-snatching, slow-burn, butterfly inducing moment and exhausted all my writing skills. ?? Help!