Chapter 34
This chapter is unedited so read at your own risk.
Happy reading ???
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Author's POV
Zaviyar stared at the open file before him, its pages heavy with secrets, information powerful enough to reduce his enemies to dust, to finally deliver the revenge he had hunted with the patience and precision of a predator. The revenge he had craved for ages.
Yet his mind betrayed him, slipping back to the one day he wished he could forget, the moment a strange, unwelcome stir of emotion had brushed through him like a sliver of silver light. For her, the daughter of his sworn rival. The woman he had promised himself he would ruin without mercy.
And still... something in him had hesitated.
( FLASHBACK - At Akshat's House )
"Are you sure about doing this?" Zaviyar asked, squinting his eyes in clear displeasure, his tone caught somewhere between disbelief and irritation.
Akshat didn't flinch, not even once. He signed the papers with the kind of ease that came only from a decision already carved deep into his heart.
"Meri aakhein chaundhiya gayi, Akshat Rathod the millio-"
(My eyes are dazzled, Akshat Rathod the millio-)
"Billionaire..", Akshat corrected sharply, glaring at him, only for Agastya to snort and shrug.
"Jis hisaab se tu chal rha hain, crorepati se roadpati ban jayega.", Agastya's tone carried pure annoyance, like he was lecturing a reckless child rather than the heir of the Rathod empire.
(At the rate you're going, you'll fall from millionaire to homeless.)
Zaviyar tried once more, "Are you sure about doing this?
" His voice was lower this time, almost cautionary.
But Akshat only nodded, resolute. Without hesitation he signed the remaining documents, closed the file with a soft thud, and slid it towards Agastya, handing away one of the most profitable, albeit illegal, pillars of the Rathod empire.
And then, as if the gravity of his decision meant nothing, Akshat turned away from both of them.
He quietly adjusted the flowers in the vase, flowers Adhira had arranged earlier with her delicate, hopeful touch, preparing to welcome guests that evening.
His movements were gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the storm he had just unleashed.
"I can't believe you actually did this," Agastya muttered, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he stared at the signed papers. The empire's darkest, richest veins now belonged officially to him.
Akshat didn't turn. "I can't live knowing that I am lying to Adhira.
Given Eshaan's history, he isn't the type to sit idle now that I have his business and Adhira.
He'll come for me. And when he does, I don't want Adhira discovering that I'm no better than her ex-husband.
", His voice dropped, fear, guilt, or love hglinting somewhere in his tone.
Everything he hid behind cold logic, yet they were the most dangerous elements the heir of the Rathod empire should claim to possess.
His gaze drifted to the window, where Adhira's laugh floated in faintly as she spoke to Safiya, her smile soft and radiant.
"And what happens when Adhira finds out? What if she leaves you?" Zaviyar questioned, eyes narrowing, assessing Akshat like he was studying a risky investment.
"Aur kya hona hain, yeh banega devdas aur apne saath apne ghar aur business ko bhi aag lga lega.", Agastya sighed dramatically and downed another glass of red wine, earning a disapproving look from Zaviyar.
(And what else will happen? He'll become Devdas and burn down his home and business along with himself.)
Akshat shot him a glare. "Like you wouldn't do the same for your wife, Zaviyar. Don't think I've forgotten that tiny crush you had when you were a hormonal teenager."
"Stop..." Zaviyar muttered instantly, ears turning a furious shade of red. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly exposed in a way he hated. It had been years. It meant nothing now. Or so he liked to pretend.
"Let's agree," Akshat continued, unbothered, "if you hadn't found out the truth back then, you would've been the first one at her door asking her to marry you."
"Shut up... It's all in the past."
"And now that past has become your present," Akshat said, voice firm, almost prophetic. "When the day comes, you'll be the one standing as a shield in front of Safiya. Even if you don't want to."
"She isn'-"
"Who are you even lying to? Us or yourself?" Akshat cut in sharply. "Safiya might not have been part of the plan, but the Zaviyar I know never does anything he doesn't want to."
Agastya leaned forward, backing him up.
"Shaadi nhi karni hoti touh tum usi vakt usse na keh sakte the, lekin tumne esa kuch nhi kiya.
Yu touh tum daava karte ho ki tumhare har ek baat patthar ki lakeer hai.
Lekin tab tumne esa kyu nhi kiya... kyuki tumhe aitraaz nhi tha.
", Zaviyar's grip tightened around the armrest, knuckles whitening.
Anger, and frustration flickered in his eyes.
(If you didn't want to marry her, you could've refused right then. You always claim your every word is set in stone. So why didn't you refuse? Because you didn't actually mind.)
Yet Akshat kept going.
"Agar woh sahi mein tumhari pasand nhi hain touh dedo usse talaq lekin tumse woh bhi nhi hoga.
She is a nice girl, just because she doesn't fit into your definition of a perfect girl doesn't mean she deserves your harshness.
Aaj mujhe yeh bolte hue sharam aarahi hain ki tu mera dost hain, mera dost jesa bhi tha yaar begairat nhi tha.
Ek ladki jisne kuch nhi kiya, jouh kuch jaanti bhi nhi.
Usse kyu apne hisse ka trauma de raha hain.
", Zaviyar swallowed, jaw tight. The accusation stung because it was true.
(If you truly don't like her, then give her a divorce but you won't. She's a good girl; just because she doesn't fit your perfect girl standard doesn't mean she deserves your coldness.
I feel ashamed calling you my friend right now.
You were many things, but never shameless.
A girl who has done nothing, who knows nothing.
.. why are you giving her your trauma?)
"But her involvement with the Sisodias... with Wajahat Shah," he finally muttered, tone defensive. "She might not be the one to blame, but we need her. She's the only one who can expose them."
Agastya nodded slightly. "If she's tied to all of them... how do we know she hasn't been helping them too? She has every reason. How did they get so far without her help?"
Zaviyar's voice hardened.
"Safiya can't be trusted. Not now at least."
"I don't need you telling me how I should treat my wife," he snapped when Agastya opened his mouth again. "I don't want to get involved with her emotionally. I did once, and it didn't end well. The last thing I want is to experience that again."
"Jouh karna hain karo, lekin agar woh begunah nikli touh usse chhor Dena. She deserves better.", Agastya leaned back, shaking his head.
(Do whatever you want, but if she turns out innocent, then leave her. She deserves better.)
"And what if she's guilty?" Agastya asked, brows drawing together.
"Touh usse goli maar dunga."
(Then I'll shoot her.)
The room fell silent, the kind that settles dangerous, and unspoken. Because they all knew Zaviyar meant every word.
Flashback ends....
He watched across the room, through the pristine glass panel that looked ordinary to the world but was anything but ordinary.
( Her outfit )
Safiya sat in her office, a perfect monochrome vision in her all-black kurta and palazzo pants.
The dupatta, discarded carelessly on the couch, had clearly annoyed her enough to abandon it entirely.
Her soft brown locks fell over her forehead in untamed strands, her lips pressed into a small, irritated pout.
The thin metal frames of her glasses rested neatly on the bridge of her nose while her fingers absentmindedly played with the pen as she flipped through the documents spread before her.
He rose from his chair, slow deliberate strides carrying him closer.
He wasn't in a hurry, he wanted to take in every inch of his wife.
Dressed fully in black kurta, she looked less like a lawyer and more like some dangerous angel who could tempt even the most disciplined man into sin without lifting a finger.
She sat there completely harmless, completely unaware of the eyes tracing her every move.
From her side, it was nothing but a plain white wall.
From his side, it was a one-way revelation.
Zaviyar exhaled deeply as he reached the glass, his palm almost pressed against it.
The wall had been Agastya's idea. A "necessary upgrade," he had said with dramatic superiority.
Zaviyar had rolled his eyes at the time, convinced he'd never use it.
Yet now, he silently thanked the idiot because he could watch his wife like she was a private blessing crafted just for him, glowing in the gentle office light.
He looked again, her eyes scanned the papers with sharp focus, her lips moving ever so slightly as she read. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he lifted his hand and placed it against the glass, wishing for just a second that the barrier between them didn't exist.
But he jerked back instantly when she suddenly snapped her head up, straight at him.
Like she felt her husband's gaze, like some invisible thread bound them.
Her brows furrowed suspiciously as she stood up, her steps slow and alert.
She walked toward the wall, eyes narrowing, examining the reflective surface as if it had offended her.
His heartbeat thudded painfully in his chest. If she found out he was secretly spying on her... he'd never hear the end of it.
But then she abruptly bent down to pick something from the floor and turned away, walking back to her seat, leaving him to release a heavy breath of relief. He relaxed, stepping away slightly, ready to leave.
But then he froze. Safiya closed her files and closed the window, then grabbed her phone. He blinked trying to understand what she was doing. And he watched as she scrolled through her phone before pulling a small spherical ball , probably a speaker from her drawer placing them on the table.
Then, Safiya started dancing. Like a complete maniac.
He couldn't hear the music, but her steps were wild, chaotic, and utterly ridiculous. Her steps were hilarious without context and Zaviyar couldn't help but chuckle seeing her dancing like crazy. Her hair whipped around with every move, making her look like a rebellious storm in her black kurta.
A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. Before he could stop himself, he pulled out his phone and started recording her, his chest shaking with silent laughter as he watched his dignified, fierce lawyer-wife dance like no one would ever see her.
A sharp knock suddenly echoed at his door.
He nearly dropped his phone.
Shoving it into his pocket, he stepped away from the glass, clicked the switch that returned the wall to its plain mirrored surface but not before taking another last glance at his wife, and walked to his desk.
By the time he clicked the second button to unlock the door, he looked like the picture of professionalism.
Riffat walked in, a servant following with a tray. Zaviyar pretended to be deeply invested in his documents, giving only a polite glance upward.
Once the tray was placed on the center table and the staff exited, Riffat took a seat on the couch. Zaviyar closed the file and joined her offering a warm smile.
" Aapne takleef kyu ki ammi... ", he began, but Riffat didn't let him finish.
(Why did you trouble yourself to come, ammi...)
" Aage ka kya socha hain Zaviyar? Ab touh shaadi ko time hogaya hain. ", she started in a crisp tone, one which clearly meant business.
(What have you thought about the future, Zaviyar? It has been quite some time since the wedding.)
" Sorry ammi, lekin abhi hum bachcho ke liye Tayyar nhi hain. ", Zaviyar said with a serious expression which only made Riffat snap her head towards him.
( sorry ammi, but we are not ready for kids yet. )
"Waise dadi banne ka sapna tou mera hamesha se tha, Lekin filhaal tou itna hi kafi hai ke Safiya ek martaba poore gaon walon ke rubru ho jaaye."
( I always did dream of becoming a grandmother but for now, I just want Safiya to give the entire village a proper appearance.)
Zaviyar inhaled slowly, nodding, even as his mind drifted back to the image of Safiya dancing like a lunatic behind that glass wall.
A soft smile tugged at his lips, hidden quickly before Riffat could catch it.
His world was growing chaotic and beautifully so but he was sceptical whether she would agree to this arrangement or not.
" Uski kya zaroorat hain, sab usse pehchante hain. ", Zaviyar's tone was calm, but there was a faint edge underneath, an instinctive protectiveness that emerged every time Safiya's name was mentioned. His fingers tapped lightly on his knee, betraying the impatience he tried to conceal.
(What is the need for that? Everyone already knows her.)
Riffat who was already expecting Zaviyar to agree paused her movements, and looked at him with disbelief.
" Sab Wajahat ki beti Safiya ko jaante hain.
Mein chahti hu ki ab uski mulaqat sabse Khan ki Biwi ke haisiyat se ho.
", Riffat spoke gently but firmly, her posture straightening as she emphasized the weight of the title.
She had seen enough life to know that names, once joined, came with responsibilities heavier than gold.
(Everyone knows her as Wajahat's daughter Safiya. I want her to meet them now as Khan's wife.)
" Be fizool kyu- ", He didn't finish. She didn't give him the chance.
(Why this unnecessary-)
" Yeh hamari rivayat hain Zaviyar. Ab tum dono ke naam jud gaye hain, touh zimmedariya bhi baat louh.
Aur tum kabse Safiya ki tarha baat karne lageh.
", A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
Zaviyar looked away, jaw tightening, as if trying to hide the warmth that rose in his chest at the mention of Safiya's name.
(This is our tradition, Zaviyar. Now that your names are tied together, you must share responsibilities too. And since when did you start speaking like Safiya?)
" Woh meri biwi hain, uska khayal rakhna meri zimmedari hain. ", His voice was steady, laced with quiet conviction. It was the first time he had voiced this aloud, with such ownership, such certainty and Riffat noticed.
(She is my wife, and taking care of her is my responsibility.)
" Aur Azamgarh? Kya woh tumhari zimmedari nhi? Ya fir tum apni biwi ki mohabbat mein zan mureed hogaye ho. ", Her teasing was gentle, affectionate yet the truth underneath held weight. Zaviyar's eyes softening at the word love did not go unnoticed.
(And Azamgarh? Is that not your responsibility too? Or have you become so lost in your wife's love?)
" Woh aap thi ammi, jisne mujhe Safiya ka haath thaamne ko kaha tha.
Aur Aaj jab woh meri aadat ban chuki hain, aap chahti ho ki mein usse.
... ", He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze catching the soft smile blooming on her face.
Riffat placed a warm hand on his head, fingers brushing his hair like she used to when he was younger.
(It was you, Ammi, who asked me to take Safiya's hand. And now, when she has become a habit I cannot escape, you want me to...)
" Ab jab uska haath thaam liya hain touh mat chhorna. ", Her voice was firm.
(Now that you've taken her hand, don't ever let it go.)
" Jab aadat ban chuki hain, touh mohabbat bhi ban jayegi. ", With that final blessing, half statement and half prophecy she stood and turned away, only to stop when she reached the door.
(If she has become a habit, she will become love too.)
Riffat turned around with a mischievous glint swirling in her eyes, " Zaviyar...", she called out, making him look at her knowing something was brewing in her head.
" Mujhe jaldi dadi banna hain. ", she smiled as she noticed Zaviyar, averting his eyes yet she could see his earshell turning a deep shade of red.
With that, she left the room with a serene, content smile. The door clicked softly behind her, yet the warmth of her words lingered like fragrance in the quiet office. The moment she stepped into the hallway, Meenu approached her, hesitant.
[ Meenu is an old maid, who has been with Riffat since Riffat married into the family. ]
" Aapse ek baat puchu, bibi-jaan? ", Riffat nodded, already sensing the question behind Meenu's uncertainty.
(May I ask you something, bibi-jaan?)
" Aap agar chhoti begum aur Nawab sahab ke kareeb aane ke khilaaf nhi thi touh aapne kyu- ", She was interrupted by Riffat's soft, calm voice.
(If you weren't against Chhoti Begum and Nawab Sahab getting close, then why did you-)
" Parakhna chahti thi unhe. Aaj yeh sab be-fizool lag sakta hain, lekin iss rishte ko nibhana itna aasan nhi hain.
Aur woh bhi tab, jab koi nhi chahta ki woh saath rahe.
", Her eyes held a depth of unspoken history.
History which when digged deep within could reopen old wounds, resurface old names and rekindle old betrayals.
(I wanted to test them. Today this may seem unnecessary, but sustaining this relationship isn't easy. Especially when many don't wish for them to stay together.)
Meenu opened her mouth to ask further, but Riffat raised her hand gently, signaling her to stop. The matter was closed.
She entered her room with slow steps, her expression shifting the moment she stood alone. Her gaze fell to the dressing table, at the folded letter lying there, the one written in old-fashioned Urdu, by someone whose shadow she had spent years running from.
Someone who had left them long ago still still held the power to shake her. She inhaled sharply, picked up the letter and crushed it in her fist. The paper crumpled with a harsh sound before she threw it into the dustbin as if removing a curse from her room.
Flashes of painful memories darted across her mind like lightning. A voice she despised echoed in her head. She whispered to her own reflection, almost like a vow to herself,
" Zaviyar mera beta hain, aur woh sirf mera hee beta rahega. ", Her eyes softened, but her jaw stayed firm. Whatever storm was coming she wouldn't let it touch him.
(Zaviyar is my son, and he will always remain only mine.)
Not again. Not ever.
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Author's POV
It was 9 a.m., and the soft morning light spilled across the bedroom as Safiya stood before the mirror, fastening her stud earrings.
Her expression, however, was far from calm.
She kept glancing at the clock reflected behind her.
She was already running late and an important client meeting was scheduled in just a few hours, and nothing irritated Safiya more than the idea of being unprepared.
Behind her, the bathroom door clicked open.
Zaviyar stepped out, shirtless, wearing only his crisp white pants, water still glistening at the ends of his hair as he wiped them with a towel.
His presence distracted her from her task at hand.
His muscles flexing, taut and defined. His strands falling over, drops sliding down his front and back as he came and stood behind her.
She quickly snapped out of it, when he looked up. Safiya angled herself toward the mirror to check her outfit one final time, only to freeze. The second button of her shirt was wide open. She tugged it together but the moment she did, the button wobbled in her fingers, threatening to fall off.
Panic flared within her, and she darted into the walk-in closet, rummaging through hangers and shelves, only to realize a horrifying truth. There was no other shirt. Every shirt she had worn the previous week had been taken for washing by Shabana.
And, of course, Safiya had forgotten to keep aside the ones she needed urgently. She knew she was at fault for not taking out her laundry, and stuffing all her shirts in her part of closet after coming back from work, too tired to set it aside.
She cursed herself under her breath, frustration simmering. Her blazer demanded a proper shirt underneath and the only white t-shirt she owned was too casual for a corporate meeting.
" Yarr yeh bhi abhi hona tha. ", Her voice cracked with fury.
(Great, this had to happen now.)
" Kya masla hain? ", Zaviyar's voice echoed as he walked toward the closet, towel thrown casually over his shoulder. Safiya only pointed at her chest, her annoyance making her gestures more dramatic than helpful.
(What's the problem?)
He frowned, trying to decode her vague pointing because of course, Safiya being Safiya, was pointing at her own chest without explanation.
" Theek hee touh lag rahe hain. ", He muttered absentmindedly, letting his intrusive thoughts slip out before he could stop them.
(They look fine to me.)
Safiya blinked, her brain taking a solid two seconds to register what he meant.
Then, she erupted.
" Abe oye tharki, hawasi aadmi mein shirt ki button ka keh rahi hu! ", She slapped her hands over her chest, crossing her arms tightly as if he had personally committed a crime against her modesty. Zaviyar stared at her like she had grown a second head.
(Hey you pervert, shameless man! I'm talking about the shirt button!)
" Tum mujh par aur mere character par ilzaam laga rahi ho? ", He practically paled as he realised what he had said, but then started to prove his innocence.
(You're accusing me and questioning my character?)
" Wear some other shirt. ", he said with a shrug.
" Exactly, i don't have any other shirts. Shabana took them all to the laundry room last night, and my other suitcases haven't arrived yet. ", Safiya said rummaging through the closet. She kept throwing out hangers with clothes, trying for look for any decent cloth beneath.
Zaviyar walked up to her before holding her arm and pulling her back, " Stop panicking. "
" Aur sirf ek button hee touh hain, just stitch it. 2 minutes lagenge. ", he tried to reason which only made her pout in annoyance.
(And it's just one button, just stitch it. It'll take 2 minutes.)
" Mein button lagana bhool gayi hoon, aur late bhi horaha hain! ", She panicked, storming out of the closet in a frenzy, with Zaviyar following behind her like an irritated yet responsible adult supervising a chaotic child.
(I forgot how to stitch a button, and I'm getting late!)
" Wait, mein kardeta hu... if you don't mind. ", She nodded so fast it could've caused whiplash.
(I'll do it... if you don't mind.)
Safiya stood stiffly, almost in an attention pose, watching him crouch beside the bedside cabinet. He pulled out the small stitching kit, flipping it open with surprising familiarity.
Her breath hitched a little, as she watched her broody, rough-around-the-edges, annoyingly big husband was carefully picking up a tiny needle and a nearly invisible thread.
He squinted one eye closed, trying to push the delicate thread through the eye of the needle.
His tongue peeked out slightly in concentration, his brows furrowed, and somehow ridiculously he looked adorable.
Once successful, he twisted the thread into a neat knot and walked back to her, his tall frame casting a shadow over her.
" May I? ", His voice softened hesitant yet respectful even though his hands needed to work dangerously close to her chest. Safiya only nodded, her own palms turning clammy by her sides, as she gulped down in nervousness.
He lowered himself, angling the needle properly but immediately frowned. Her short height made the entire thing awkward. His shoulders hunched, his neck bent and he looked like a giant trying to thread a button onto a hobbit.
" Areh ab kese karoge? ", She asked, flustered.
(How will you do it now?)
" Wait, let me open the shirt and then you can do it-", Safiya said hurriedly, reaching for the button. Zaviyar quickly shook his head.
" Or we could do this. ", Before she could question him, he put the needle between his lips, leaned in and slid his hands beneath her arms, wrapping around the edges of her waist and lifted her effortlessly like she weighed nothing and placed her gently on the edge of the bed, bringing her chest to his eye level. Her breath faltered.
(Or we could do this.)
His hands stayed at her waist for half a second longer than necessary.
" Ab seedhi khadi raho. ", He said, steadying her in place with his large hands, while she tried very hard not to combust on the spot.
(Now stand straight.)
Zaviyar's fingers brushed the fabric near the broken button, steady but careful, as though he feared even the slightest poke might hurt her. Safiya tried to focus on the wall behind him, but the warmth of his breath ghosting near her collarbone made her toes curl.
The thread pulled through with a soft tug.
" Bas... almost done," he murmured, his voice low, his lashes lowering as he concentrated.
Safiya swallowed, her own voice barely above a whisper.
She couldn't feel his breath brushing against her bare skin, she looked down only to see a slight, just a small peek of the curve of her breast showing.
Get she noticed how Zaviyar was completely, focused on fixing her button.
She felt slightly dirty minded, having all sort of thoughts at their proximity and tried to shake her evil thoughts away.
Unaware how her husband, was in no better state.
He was constantly muttering to himself to not do something intrusive, or even have a little contact with her skin which might make her feel uncomfortable.
He was still under the effect of sleep when he had offered to help but realised how compromising and scandalous he might seem.
After he was done, he looked up at her once, and slowly leaned in tearing the thread with his teeth.
Safiya's eyes widened, when his soft yet slightly wet hair brushed on her chin tickling her jaw lightly.
She inhaled in the wonderful scent of his hair, and relaxed before getting back to her stance as he stepped away.
" Tum... pehle bhi kisi ka button sila chuke ho?", He paused, looked up at her through those impossibly intense eyes, and shook his head once.
( Have you done this before someone else too?)
" Apni, bohot baar. Kisi aur ki, pehli baar.", he replied before placing the needle inside the box again and closing it.
( My own, many times. Someone else's, for the first time. )
" Kyun?" she asked before stopping herself. Why was she even asking? His gaze softened, lingering on the button he was stitching and maybe, for a second, on her.
" Kyunki tumhari cheezon ko theek karna... theek lagta hai.", Safiya's breath caught again worse than before.
(Because fixing your things... feels right.)
He tied the final knot, smoothed the fabric with his thumb, and whispered, " Ho gaya."
But neither of them moved.
" Thanks... ", she said, almost in a whisper, while looking down at him.
" Only thanks? ", as ked with a mischievous glint. By the time Safiya had stepped down from the bed and blinked twice at him before she took few steps towards him.
" Yeh kya-", his words stopped when her lips landed on the corner of his jaw. Safiya had placed a soft peck on his jaw before disappearing from his sight. He stood there, startled and shocked at the sudden proximity.
He sat down at the edge of the bed, and placed his face in his hands as he tried to process what had just happened. His wife had just kissed him and disappeared like she had done nothing.
He could feel the slight warmth of her lips, the sudden spark and the way his heart started beating at an abnormal speed. He wanted to take a run and wall in this moment all together. His wife is a menace, one which he truly has grown a liking towards.
Fuck Safiya, what are you doing to me?
______________________________________
( in the evening )
I looked up from the stack of files spread across my desk when I heard a soft knock. The door creaked open just slightly and there stood Tayi Ammi, smiling gently with Shabana standing a step behind her like a shadow.
" Aa-sakti hu beta? ", I nodded immediately and stood up to lead her toward the couch near the window. She moved with her usual grace, settling down on the sofa before patting the space beside her, wordlessly asking me to sit.
(May I come in, child?)
Shabana stepped forward to pour tea but before placing the cups, Tayi Ammi gestured for her to leave. She obeyed instantly, closing the door behind her and leaving us in a quiet bubble of afternoon light.
" Pehle touh bas Zaviyar late se aata tha, aajkal touh tum dono late se aane lageh ho. Aur akhir mein khaana khaate ho. "
(Earlier only Zaviyar used to come home late; these days both of you return late. And you end up eating at the very end.)
Her tone was calm but her eyes held something deeper. I stayed silent as she continued, her fingers wrapped loosely around her teacup.
" Aajkal Zaviyar bhi parivar se dur dur rehne laga hain.
Uss din jaldi aaya tha lekin jab mene khaane ka pucha touh usne kaha ki woh apni biwi ke saath hee khana khayega.
.. ", She turned toward me gently, offering the cup of tea.
I took it with both hands, feeling the unexpected heaviness of her words settle in my chest.
(These days even Zaviyar has become distant from the family. That day he came home early, and when I asked him to eat, he said he would eat only with his wife...)
" Uss din mene pehli baar usme itna sabr dekha. ", She took a small sip before speaking again, her voice softer now.
(That day I saw so much patience in him for the first time.)
" Apni biwi ki ek jhalak ke liye darwaze par aakhein gadaye betha tha. Aur tab mujhe iss baat ka ehsaas hua ki mein galat thi. ", Her face turned thoughtful, shadows of guilt flickering across her features.
(He sat at the door with his eyes fixed, just to catch a glimpse of his wife. And that's when I realized I was wrong.)
" Mene apni duaon mein yahi maanga tha ki usko jeene aur mohabbat ki ek vajah mile. Aur jab usse woh mil chuki hai, tab mein hee usski khushi ko usse dur rakh rahi hu. ", She paused, breath shaky as she continued.
(I prayed he would find a reason to live and love. And once he found it, I was the one keeping his happiness away from him.)
" Uss din mene pehli baar usse yu muskurate, aur haste hue dekha. Lekin jab mene suna ki gaon vale yaha tak ki mulazim bhi uske barein mein baatein kar rahe hain tab mein darr gayi ki kahi... ", Her voice cracked faintly.
(That day, I saw him smiling and laughing like that for the first time. But when I heard that even the villagers and servants were talking about him, I became scared that maybe...)
" kahi yeh sab sunne ke baad woh pehle jese na ban jaye. ", She turned toward me fully now and held my hands in both of her.
) that after hearing all this, he might go back to the way he was before.)
" Mujhe maaf kardo beta, mene apna saara gussa tumpar nikal diya. Mujhe pata hain mein maafi ke kabil nhi lekin- ", shook my head, my throat tightening.
(Forgive me, child. I took out all my anger on you. I know I don't deserve forgiveness but-)
" Tayi-ammi, mein aap par gussa nhi hu. Mujhe bas dukh iss baat ka hain ki aapne mujhpar ungli uthayi dusro ki baatein sunkar. Aapne mujhe compare kiya Zulekha ke saath, jouh khud shaadi ke din Mr India ban gayi. ", Her eyes widened slightly with shame but I continued gently yet honestly.
(Tayi Ammi, I'm not angry. I'm just hurt that you questioned me because of what others said. You compared me to Zulekha, who herself turned into Mr. India on the wedding day.)
" Mene touh bheek nhi maangi thi shaadi ke liye. Woh aap, taya jaan, baba aur maa girgira rahe the mere saamne aur mene apni razamandi dedi. "
(I never begged for this marriage. It was you, Taya Jaan, Baba and Maa who pleaded in front of me and I gave my consent.)
" Lekin jese hee nikah hua, mujhe sab yeh kehne lageh ki kese mujhe apne shohar ko khush rakhna chahiye. ", My voice dropped slightly, the weight of old frustration pressing down.
(But the moment the nikah happened, everyone started telling me how I should keep my husband happy.)
" Kabhi aap mein se kisine pucha ki mein khush hu ya nhi? Dekhne ki koshish tak nhi ki... ki mein kese adjust kar rahi hu. ",
(Did any of you ever ask if I was happy? You didn't even try to see... how I was adjusting.)
" Roz 3 ghante lagte hain court aane jaane mein. Mein thak jaati hu lekin yaha tak pahuchne ke liye mene saalon ki padhayi ki hai, mein usse ek jhatke mein touh nhi chhor sakti. Aap touh mujhe samajhti thi tayi ammi? ", Her eyes grew wet, her voice raw with regret.
(It takes me 3 hours every day to commute to court. I get tired but I studied for years to reach here, I can't leave it all in a moment. You understood me, didn't you, Tayi Ammi?)
" I'm sorry beta, mein dar gayi thi ki kahi Zaviyar aur tumhare upar koi ungli na uthaye. ",
(I'm sorry child, I was afraid someone might question you or Zaviyar.)
" Mein aapki bohot izzat karti hu, isiliye shayad kuch nhi kaha mene. Lekin mein nhi badal sakti. ", Tayi Ammi swallowed, tears spilling silently.
(I respect you a lot, maybe that's why I didn't say anything before. But I cannot change who I am.)
" Mene tumhare saath bohot zyakti ki hain, bohot bhala bura kaha tumhe, jabki mujhe unn logo ka muh bandh karna tha.
Ho sake touh mujhe maaf kardena... ", I didn't let her finish, rather leaned forward and immediately wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly like a daughter reassuring a mother.
She was not someone I hated particularly not she had done anything to gain my hatred.
(I've wronged you a lot, said many hurtful things, when I should have shut other people's mouths. If possible... please forgive me.)
" Nhi aapki galti nhi hain. Aap yun maafi na maanga karein. I'm sorry, mene bhi bohot rudely baat ki aapse. Mera esa karne ka koi iraada nhi tha. ", i whispered against her shoulder, and felt a motherly warmth surrounding me when her arms wrapped around me.
(No, it's not your fault. Don't apologize like this. I'm sorry too, I also spoke rudely to you. I never intended to.)
She cupped the back of my head gently.
" Allah tumhe khush rakhe. "
(May Allah keep you happy.)
And for the first time in a long while, there was nothing between us except honesty, forgiveness, and fragile but real warmth.
_______________________________________
[ Content Warning: The following scene includes regressive viewpoints, colorist comments, and derogatory remarks expressed by certain characters. These are intentionally written to depict societal prejudices and do not represent the narrator's or author's views. ]
Author's POV
It was around 4:15 pm and the drawing room looked like a scene out of an old family gathering, heavy curtains drawn halfway, the afternoon sun slipping through them in slanted golden lines.
The women, all dressed in traditional salwar-kameez, their dupattas pulled modestly over their heads and gold jewellery clinking with every movement, sat in a tight circle around Riffat.
In their laps lay the open wedding album of Safiya and Zaviyar's reception each page turning with comments sharper than the sound of paper.
" Pehli vali ladki ka naam kya tha-? ", Meena asked, her brows knitting out of curiosity.
(What was the name of the first girl?)
" Zulekha- ", Kanchan replied, leaning forward to squint at the picture as though confirming her memory.
" Achcha haan, Zulekha. Suna hain bhaag gayi thi? Kesi begairat ladki thi... ", Meena shook her head dramatically and picked up her teacup like she was delivering breaking news.
(Oh yes, Zulekha. I heard she ran away? What a shameless girl...)
" Lekin bhabi-jaan, aapko isse bhi sundar bahu mil jaati. Aap logo ne jyada hee afra-tafri mein shaadi karwa di. ", Zubaida clicked her tongue before speaking.
(But bhabi-jaan, you could've gotten a daughter-in-law even prettier than this. You people rushed the marriage too much.)
She squinted her eyes at Safiya's picture again, regret dripping from her tone like poison.
Meena added, " Aur touh aur, thora rang bhi daba hua hain bahu ka, nhi bhabi?... "
(And also, her complexion is a bit dull, isn't it, bhabi?)
Zubaida nodded eagerly, as if she had been waiting for someone to say it aloud. Riffat didn't miss a beat. Her smile remained sweet, but her words carried an edge.
" Itni touh sundar hain... aur kaha se rang daba hua dikh raha hain? Chand jesi chamak rahi hain meri bahu. ", Zubaida shrugged, unfazed.
(She's beautiful enough... where exactly do you see a dull complexion? She's glowing like the moon, my daughter-in-law.)
" Mene suna hain lawyer-shawyer hain... esi ladkiya ghar kese sambhalengi? ",
(I heard she's a lawyer or something... how will such girls manage a home?)
Then, with a sigh of fake sympathy Zubaida said, " Bhabi aap logo ko touh loss ho gaya. Ek se ek sundar, sanskari, khandani ladkiyon ki line lagi pari thi hamare Zaviyar ke liye... aur aapko yahi mili. "
(You people suffered a loss. There was a whole line of beautiful, cultured, well-bred girls for our Zaviyar... and you got this one.)
Faiza, quiet until now, finally spoke, a small frown forming, " Itni bhi buri nhi hain... aap log zyada hee nhi dekh rahe? "
(She's not even that bad... aren't you people overreacting?)
" Areh lekin kuch touh gunn ho ladki mei... ", Meena scoffed.
(But there should be some qualities in a girl...)
" Bhabi, bulaye apni bahu ko. Hum bhi dekhe zara... ", Kanchan crossed her arms.
(Bhabi, call your daughter-in-law. Let us see her ourselves.)
At this, Riffat stiffened her fingers tightening around the album. She could feel their eyes on her, hunting, ready to pounce at the slightest excuse. She swallowed.
" Woh Safiya touh court gayi hui hain. Tum logo ne pehle bata diya hota ki tum log aa rahe ho touh mein usse rukne ka bol deti. ", Zubaida shook her head in mock disappointment.
(Safiya is at court right now. If you people had informed me earlier you were coming, I would've asked her to stay.)
" Aap zyada hee modern nhi ho gayi bhabi? Itni der tak bahu bahar hain aur aap ese hi... "
(Haven't you become too modern, bhabi? Your daughter-in-law stays out for so long and you're fine with it...)
" Aane de bhabi... hum hi khabar lenge bahu ki- ", Meena was about to add another jab.
She stopped mid-sentence. Because suddenly they all heard it, the click of heels.
The sharp, confident sound of heels striking the polished marble floor, growing louder ouder with every step.
Their chatter faded. Their mocking expressions froze.
Safiya walked in, the afternoon light catching the structured lines of her black suit, her hair pulled back, the faint exhaustion on her face doing nothing to dim her presence. She handed her briefcase to Shabana, who rushed off to keep it in her room.
Safiya didn't even glance at the group of women, she was too drained to care. She headed toward the kitchen but before she could get there, Rida appeared in front of her with a tall glass.
A mango milkshake.
" Girl, that's literally what I needed after such a horrible day. Thanks. ", She exhaled in relief and gulped half of it down.
" Mention not, " Rida smiled. A judgmental voice cut through the air like a knife.
" Tch... tch... yeh bahu touh nhi lag rahi... ", Only then did Safiya notice the entire circle of overdressed women staring at her.
(Tch tch... this doesn't look like a daughter-in-law at all...)
They were draped in heavy jewellery, sequins glittering under the light, bangles stacked to their forearms, dupattas pinned tightly around their heads. Each of them looked like they had stepped straight out of a wedding function, armed with opinions.
Safiya, still holding her milkshake, blinked once.
And the room held its breath.
____________________________________
Safiya's pov
" Assalamualaikum ", I greeted all of them with a polite smile, masking the uncomfortable twist forming in my stomach.
Their eyes scanned me from head to toe, slow and assessing.
The kind of look that made it very clear that my presence was tolerated, not welcomed.
I was already half-turned to leave, hoping to escape this suffocating aura of judgment, when a voice stopped me.
" Walikum salam, tum Safiya ho na? ", one of them asked. I simply nodded, tightening my grip on the files in my hand.
( you're Safiya, right?)
" Aoo, hamare saath betho. Riffat bhabi se milna touh bahana tha, hum touh tumhe hee dekhne aaye the. Aur bhabi neh mu-dikhayi bhi na rakhi. ", Her voice was dipped in fake sweetness, the kind that makes your skin crawl.
(Come, sit with us. Meeting Riffat bhabhi was just an excuse; we actually came to see you. And bhabhi didn't even keep a formal face-showing ritual.)
I forced an awkward smile, my cheeks stiff, and walked towards them.
The narrow seat between two ladies felt like a trap waiting to snap shut the moment I sat.
The instant I settled, one of the women leaned in without warning, her fingers plunging into my hair.
The sudden tug felt sharp and merciless, her fingers ripped through a knot I hadn't even realized was there.
" Ouch.... " I winced, flinching back.
" Laga? Maaf karna... ", she said, though the smug grin tugging at the corner of her lips said otherwise.
(Did it hurt? Sorry...)
" Bade hee sundar baal hain tumhare... ", Her tone made the compliment feel more like a mock inspection than appreciation.
(Your hair is very beautiful...)
I nodded stiffly and pulled my ponytail over one shoulder, putting some distance between my scalp and her claws. Before I could breathe, another lady, bold and boundary-less cupped my cheek with both hands.
" Tumhare aakhon ke neeche kaale gaddhe par gaye hain. Aur rang bhi thora daba daba sa hain. ", My mind froze. What the hell are they even saying?
(You've got dark circles under your eyes. And your complexion looks a little dull too.)
Their audacity was unbelievable. I wasn't sure if I should laugh, cry, or shove their hands away. Where was the basic decency?
" Areh esa touh hoga hee na, ab saara din baheer court mein rahegi touh. ", Another woman in a pastel salwar kameez added, nodding like she'd solved the mystery of the century
(Of course that will happen, she spends the entire day outside in court.)
" Aur yeh kya, gala itna suna. Nayi dulhan ko thora saj sawar kar rehna chahiye tabhi ", The woman on my right chimed in. I turned to look at tayi-ammi, hoping for rescue, only to find her expression matching mine, irritated and absolutely done.
(And what's this, your neck looks so bare. A new bride should keep herself dressed up.)
" Wese bhabi nahi dulhan se yaad aya, aapki beti Shafaq ka bhi rishta tay hogaya hain na ", the lady on my left asked the woman in front of me.
(By the way bhabhi, speaking of brides, your daughter Shafaq's marriage was fixed too, right?)
" Hui thi lekin Shafaq neh inkaar kardiya.
Pehle thori jhijhak thi mere andar yeh baat karne se, par ab touh keh hee sakti hu.
", she said with a smile was too sweet, the kind of sweetness that feels poisonous.
Her eyes flickered towards me as she said it, and my instincts prickled.
The aura she carried was so negative it could probably wilt the flowers in the vase behind her.
Then she turned to tayi-ammi and dropped the real bomb.
(It was, but Shafaq refused. Before, I hesitated to talk about this, but now I can say it freely.)
" Mera touh bara man tha ki meri Shafaq ki shaadi Zaviyar se ho, lekin isse phele ki mein rishta maang paati aapne Zulekha ke saath mangni teh kardi.
Dono bachpan mein itne achche dost the. ", My head snapped toward her, eyes widening.
Is this woman in her right mind? Talking about my man in front of me land acting like it's totally fine?
What was she expecting? sympathy? Apology? Gratitude?
(I really wanted my Shafaq to marry Zaviyar, but before I could ask for the proposal, you fixed his engagement with Zulekha. They were such good childhood friends.)
" Meri bachchi touh bari farmabardaar, aur zaheen hai. Fazr ke samay uthti hain. Pureh Ghar ko sambhal rakha hain. ", The way she praised Shafaq, you'd think she was advertising her for auction.
(My daughter is very obedient and intelligent. She wakes up at dawn for Fajr and manages the entire house.)
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood, anything to stop myself from laughing or snarling. Tayi-ammi finally intervened, gracefully dismantling her theatrics.
" Shafaq bohot hee achchi ladki hain, lekin Safiya aur Zaviyar ka rishta touh upar likha gaya hain.
Kisine sahi kaha hain, ki har jori Allah banakar bhejte hain.
Kyuki aaj se 25 saal pehle Baba-jaan ki marzi thi ki, Safiya ki shaadi Zaviyar se hee ho.
Aur dekhiye, bhaagya ka khel aur khuda ki marzi se aaj woh hogaya jouh humeh na mumkin laga tha.
Yeh rab ki banayi hui jori hain. ", And just like that everyone in the room shut up.
(Shafaq is a very good girl, but Safiya and Zaviyar's match was written above.
It's true that every pairing is made by God.
Twenty-five years ago, Baba-jaan wished for Safiya to marry Zaviyar.
And see, by fate and God's will, what once seemed impossible has happened today. This is a pair made by the divine.)
A heavy, choking kind of quiet where everyone pretended they weren't gossiping seconds ago.Then another woman spoke softly.
" Kuch karam touh kiye honge, jouh dur hone ke baad bhi yeh firse mile.
Khuda ki raza shayad ismein thi ki yeh dono ek dusre ko mukammal kareh.
", Faiza, I recognized her. Waqas's mother.
Her smile was gentle, genuine even and for the first time in the entire room, someone looked at me with warmth rather than scrutiny.
Her words hit something deep, sending my heartbeat into a clumsy, uneven rhythm.
(They must have done some good deeds, that even after being apart, they met again. Maybe God's will is that they complete each other.)
Suddenly, uninvited flashes of Zaviyar filled my mind how he'd pulled me close, how he looked in the morning light, how his breath felt against my ear when he leaned in, the way he carried me upstairs, the stupid flour fight, the pool, the almost-kiss that still made my chest tighten.
My face heated instantly. What am I even thinking?
I shook my head, snapping myself back to reality.
The conversation had already moved on, but I caught Faiza giving me a teasing smile. Before I could recover, another lady began.
" Mere sunne mein aaya tum apni beti ka rishta Ali's ke yaha dekh rahi ho, kuch baat bani? "
(I heard you're considering a proposal from Ali's family for your daughter; did anything get finalized?)
" Haan mangni bhi hogayi. Bada hee achcha khandaan hain, ladka touh laakhon mein ek ", the woman on my left said proudly.
(Yes, the engagement is done. It's a very good family, the boy is one in a million)
" Suna hain wo loug bohot hee khandani loug hain, unke yaha saaree bahu'e parda karti hain. ", the woman on my right added with fascination.
(I heard they're very traditional; all their daughters-in-law observe purdah.)
" Haan hum esa hee khandaan dhundh rahe hain.
Wese bhi itni padhayi likhayi se karna kya hain.
", I cringed. Modesty was a choice, and i respect that.
But what does education have to do anything with that.
It's baffling how still people think if girls become educated the they would be hard to control.
But then again, no one can stand a woman with opinions and thoughts of her own.
The society hates when woman speak up for themselves instead of following the same regressive cycle.
And the funniest part? It's the regressive, brainwashed women, who support this patriarchal cycle.
(Yes, that's exactly the kind of family we wanted. Anyway, what's the use of so much education?)
Her daughter's life wasn't my business, but the urge to correct her ignorance clawed at me. Still, I stayed silent, I knew speaking was pointless. It always has been but like always i couldn't stop. Then she aimed another dart at me.
" Aur bhabi aapne bhi Safiya ko ijazat dedi naukri karne ki. Iss khandan mein pehle tou esa kabhi nhi hua. Hairani hain Zaviyar neh bhi ijazat dedi.. "
(And bhabhi, you even allowed Safiya to work. That has never happened in this family before. I'm surprised Zaviyar also gave permission.)
Oh.
So this was her game.
First, the taunts.
Then, the "perfect" daughter advertisement.
And now this, a cheap attempt to provoke me. I wasn't in the mood to shred her ego today but she definitely needed to know just how atrocious her audacity was.
" Tum bohot khushnaseeb ho ki Zaviyar neh tumhe bahar kaam karne ki ijazat deh di.
", she said again, this time turning fully toward me as if she had been waiting for an opportunity to toss this comment directly into my face.
Her eyes held that familiar mix of curiosity and judgement, the kind that tries to reduce a woman to the permissions granted by the men in her life.
(You're very lucky that Zaviyar has allowed you to work outside)
" Aur nhi touh kya, wese koi zarurat nhi hain tumhe job ki, paiso ki kuch khaas kami touh nhi hain.
Abhi touh tumhe apni shaadi ka sochna chahiye, apne shohar ki khidmat karni chahiye.
"
(Obviously. Besides, you don't even need a job, it's not like you're short of money.
You should be focusing on your marriage right now, and serving your husband.)
The lady beside me chimed in, her tone dipped in a sugary superiority that made my skin crawl. She said it with such confidence, as if she was reciting a universal truth, as if women were born only to orbit around their husbands like satellites.
I inhaled slowly, forcing a smile onto my lips before turning to the woman in front of me who looked at me as though I had sprouted two horns and an extra set of eyes.
" Aunty, mujhe job karne ke liye kisiki ijazat nhi chahiye. Aur padhayi kyu zaruri hain woh mujhe aaplog ke saath baat kar ke pta chal rha hain. ", My tone remained calm, almost cheerful, but the words landed with precision. I watched her expression freeze mid-breath.
(Aunty, I don't need anyone's permission to work. And honestly, talking to you all is making me realize exactly why education is important.)
" Job mein apne liye karti hu, aur apne salary par chalti hu.
Mujhe Kisike saamne haath failane ki zaroorat nhi padti.
I'm fully capable of earning for myself.
", My words were neutral, steady but they sliced perfectly through the thick tension settling around the room.
The lady in front stiffened, leaning forward as her expression hardened.
I know my words were harsh, almost offensive to tay-ammi and Faiza aunty.
(I work for myself, and I live on my own salary. I don't have to beg anyone for money. I'm fully capable of earning for myself.)
" Paise touh tum kama logi, lekin rishton ka kya.
Ladko ko esi ladkiya pasand nhi jouh unke ghar ko na sambhal sake.
Jab bachche honge tab bhi job karogi ya parivar ka khayal rakhogi?
", Her voice sharpened with every word as if she was trying to pin me down with outdated expectations and centuries-old stereotypes.
(You may earn money, but what about relationships? Boys don't like girls who can't take care of a home. When you have children, will you continue your job or take care of your family?)
And I was done. Absolutely, gloriously done! Bhaad mein gaya patience.
" Touh aaplog apne laadle ladko ki shaadi kyu karwati hain, ek maid leh aaye na jouh unke saarein kaam kar sake.
Aur bachche ke liye surrogate rakh leh because aap logo ke liye bahuye touh bas unpaid maid hee touh hain.
", I shrugged lightly, as if this was the most logical solution.
I hadn't wanted to stoop to their level, but I also refused to sit like a mute target for their regressive nonsense.
(Then why don't you just get your precious sons married to a maid who can do all their work? And hire a surrogate for children, because according to you, daughters-in-law are just unpaid maids anyway.)
The temperature in the room dropped instantly. The lady in front opened her mouth, eyes blazing.
" Maaf karna bhabi, lekin pta nhi Zaviyar kese jhelta hoga iss ladki kouh. Iss ladki ko dekhna touh dur naam bhi na pukar- "
(Sorry bhabi, but I don't know how Zaviyar tolerates this girl. Forget seeing her, I wouldn't even take her name-)
But whatever insult she was about to spit out was drowned instantly by a sudden voice. It was sharp, loud, echoing through the entire house.
" SAFIYA- "
" SAFIYA, KIDHAR HO- "
(Safiya- Safiya, where are you-)
My heart lurched. Zaviyar had never called me like that before, never with that urgency, that force. The entire room fell silent, eyes widening in surprise and excitement like they were watching a live drama unfold. Just then, Mansi came running into the living room, breathless.
" Bibi-ji, jaldi chalein, Zaviyar sahab bohot hee gusse mein lag rahe hain.. ", Her voice was rushed, worried.
(Ma'am, please come quickly, Zaviyar sir seems very angry..)
I nodded, rising immediately and following her out, refusing to acknowledge the smirks curling behind me.
" Bohot chahak rahi thi na. Ab isse pta chalega ki yeh iska shahar nhi hain. "
(Was acting too bold, wasn't she? Now she'll understand this isn't her city.)
One woman whispered with a triumphant smirk.
" Aur mene touh suna hain, Zaviyar jab gusse mein hota hain tab kisiki nhi sunta. ", Another added, with the same poisonous delight.
(And I've heard that when Zaviyar gets angry, he doesn't listen to anyone.)
" Akhir woh ek mard hain. ", The pastel-salwar lady said this with a dreamy sparkle in her eyes, as if a man's temper was some kind of romantic accomplishment.
( After all, he is a man.)
Their laughter and comments floated behind me like venom but I didn't look back. My heartbeat quickened not out of fear, but out of confusion, a strange fluttering mixture of worry and curiosity as I stalked toward him.
____________________________________
Author's POV
Zaviyar walked into the house almost stumbling over his own urgency, chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat beading along his forehead as his eyes darted across every corner of the entrance.
Panic clung to him so clearly that even the guards stiffened.
He looked like a man who had sprinted straight through fear itself.
" Safiya- ", he called out, his voice cracked with worry but the house stayed painfully still.
" Safiya! ", he called again, louder this time, so loud that the sound echoed off the walls and made all the guards rush toward him, their heads bowed, unsure whether to calm him or fear him.
The household staff appeared too, trembling slightly at the sight of his agitation, unused to this level of distress from the otherwise composed Nawab.
Mansi, sensing something terribly wrong, hurried toward the lounge without wasting a second. Soon she returned with Safiya walking behind her, and the gossiping ladies trailing behind Safiya like shadows desperate for a show.
But before Safiya could even part her lips to question what happened, Zaviyar crossed the distance in a heartbeat.
His hands came up to cup her cheeks with a desperation so raw that Safiya's pupils widened instantly.
She froze, startled, watching him examine her face, her hair, her arms, every inch as if expecting to discover some unseen wound.
She stiffened, confusion rushing through her because nothing made sense.
She hadn't the faintest idea what storm was raging in him.
" Zav- " she tried to speak but the syllable barely left her mouth when he pulled her into a sudden, fierce embrace.
Gasps rose around them loud, unfiltered as every staff member's eyes widened in disbelief.
Many lowered their gazes respectfully, shy smiles blooming on their faces at the sight of their Sahab holding his wife so closely, so protectively as though she were the most precious thing he had ever touched.
Safiya's own shock held her still for a moment.
She hesitated, unsure what to do, before lightly placing her hands around him.
Surprisingly, impossibly even in a room full of strangers, she felt safe in his arms as if the world had shrunk to the sound of his heartbeat.
Faiza was right... perhaps they were meant to cross paths.
Perhaps this really was His plan, their khuda's delicate, invisible weaving of destinies.
( Khuda - god )
She closed her eyes when she felt his grip tighten around her waist, the other hand sliding to the back of her neck, holding her as if someone might snatch her away. His face buried into her neck, breathing her in like he needed the reassurance of her existence.
" Aapne humeh dara diya tha? ", he whispered, his tone so gentle that even Zubaida's eyes flew wide open. Zaviyar, the man who addressed everyone with cold command, was speaking to his wife softly - and calling her aap.
(You scared me...)
" Lekin hua kya hain? ", she whispered back, still confused, when suddenly the doors burst open and Agastya came running inside with several people in white coats trailing behind him.
(But what even happened?)
" Bhabi, kidhar hain? ", he called frantically before he spotted Zaviyar who was wrapped around his wife like a snake, suffocating her meanwhile Safiya being the rabbit who stood on her toes trying to reach his embrace properly. Agastya's pace faltered as he took in the sight, eyes widening.
(Sister-in-law, where are you?)
" Bhabi aap theek hain? ", he asked quickly. Safiya nodded, though she could barely move her head because Zaviyar still held her flush against him. But something in Agastya's voice made her pause, he looked confused to see her unharmed, almost as if he had expected her to be in terrible condition.
(Are you okay, bhabi?)
Finally, Zaviyar loosened his hold though his arm remained firmly around her waist, possessive and steady. Without speaking, he touched her forehead, then her cheek, then her arms again, rechecking everything as if afraid she would vanish if he blinked.
That was when Agastya finally blurted, " Bhabi aap touh sahi salamat hain. Aur yeh Zaviyar keh raha tha ki aapko kuch hogaya hai. ", Safiya turned toward Zaviyar, eyebrows furrowing.
(You're perfectly fine. And this Zaviyar here was insisting something had happened to you.)
" Mujhe kya hona hain? Mein touh fit and fine hu. ", She smiled gently at him but Zaviyar didn't smile back, he just stared at her, lips pressed tightly as if he couldn't believe she was truly unharmed.
(What could possibly happen to me? I'm fit and fine.)
" Touh fir woh call kisne kiya tha? "
(Then who made that call?), Agastya asked, turning to Zaviyar.
" Konsi call? ", Riffat finally asked, confused and completely lost in the situation like all the other ladies whose jaws were still practically touching the floor, watching the Nawab lose his sanity over his wife.
(Which call?)
" Kisine call karke kaha ki your wife is in danger. Aur yeh touh jese paagal hogaya. Mujhe touh laga aaj qatl hojayenge agar aap hame sahi salamat na mili touh. ", Agastya laughed lightly, though Zaviyar did not. His jaw clenched as his fist tightened
(Someone called saying your wife was in danger. And this man went absolutely mad. I swear I thought someone would get killed today if bhabi wasn't found safe.)
" Pta karo yeh kisne kiya hain. Hum usse chhorenge nhi. ", he snapped, the veins on his neck protuding in anger.
(Find out who did this. I won't spare them.)
The venom in his tone was unmistakable.
Safiya sighed internally, 'Firse ham, hoom ka silsila shuru hogaya nawab sahab ka.' She stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him gently.
" Shaant hojao, shayad kisine galti se kardiya hoga. ", Her voice softened him, even if the anger didn't disappear completely.
(Calm down, maybe someone did it by mistake.)
She noticed the way he looked at Agastya, silently signaling him to take the matter seriously. She raised a brow, she had caught that gesture, and he knew it.
" Kya zarurat faltu mein yeh sab tension lene ki, kuch hua touh nhi hain na. Touh shaant hojao. ", She gave his hand a firm squeeze. Only for him to gruffly, let out a sigh of distress, his eyes still running over her face looking for any sign of strain or hurt.
(What's the need to take so much stress unnecessarily? Nothing even happened. So calm down.)
" Areh baba, confirm kar lete na ki mein theek hu ya nhi. ", She gave his hand a firm squeeze. She said this lightly, seeing he still wasn't fully convinced.
(Oh come on, you could've at least confirmed whether I was fine or not.)
Agastya chuckled, " Isse kuch aur soojhta tab na. Aapka zikr hote hee yeh touh boukhla gaya. Aapke ishq mein mera dost murshid ban chuka hain, bhabi... ", His teasing was playful but the women behind Riffat immediately stiffened, reality hitting them like a slap.
(As if he could think of anything else. The moment your name came up, he panicked. My friend has turned into a saint in your love, bhabi...)
Safiya stepped away slightly but before she could take another step, a sudden wave of weakness washed over her. Her knees buckled just slightly enough to frighten anyone watching and she swayed. Zaviyar caught her instantly, arms steadying her before she could fall.
She knew exactly why. She had skipped dinner last night and eaten nothing but an apple before rushing to court this morning.
Before she could protest, Zaviyar had already made her sit. One of the male doctors stepped forward but froze mid-step when Zaviyar shot him a look sharp enough to cut bone. Zaviyar jerked his chin toward the female junior doctor instead, demanding she attend Safiya.
Safiya, stubborn and tired, shook her head at Zaviyar's hovering and batted his arm away before cooperating with the doctor.
The injection went in to take her blood sample, and the poor doctor visibly gulped when she felt Zaviyar glaring at her as though drawing Safiya's blood was some personal attack.
" Bhai, usse apna kaam touh karne deh. ", Agastya sighed, watching Zaviyar hover like a storm cloud, supervising every movement, making sure Safiya's tests were done while glaring at anyone who so much as breathed wrong near his wife.
(Bro, let them do their job.)
" Zaviyar? ", Safiya called out unhappy seeing her blood samples.
" Hmm? "
" Mujhe cheese laake dena kal. Mujhe khana hain. ", she said making him nod. " Aur... Aur woh choco fills bhi chahiye mujhe. ", she said again.
( I want cheese, bring that for me tomorrow. I really wanna eat it. )
(And...and i want choco fills too)
" Mil jayenge. ", he said.
(You will get them. )
" Aur black forest cake bhi...", ( black forest cake as well) she said making him finally say, " Ek list dedena kal sab leke aunga. Abhi unhe saare test karne dou. ", he said and she nodded with a smile. She loved it when he listened to her.
( Give me a list, I'll bring all of that tomorrow for you. Now let them do all the tests. )
They were all stunned, truly stunned watching the broody Nawab, the man whose single glare could silence an entire room, standing there quietly and obediently listening to his 5'6 wife as if she carried the power to shake his world with a single word.
His posture, once stiff and commanding, shifted instantly whenever Safiya's voice reached him.
The women in the room stared in disbelief as his anger which was impossible to bear melted the moment her hand brushed his as though her touch alone had the authority to calm the storm inside him.
Every time she slightly widened her eyes in warning, he softened like she had placed a leash around the ruthless Nawab Khan and he willingly, almost gratefully, let her hold it.
And the way he held her, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his body shielding hers.
It was as if he feared that if he blinked, she would dissolve into air and leave him standing empty handed.
" Chale hamare saath aap. ", Zaviyar said, his voice low yet undeniably gentle, before taking Safiya's palm firmly in his hold.
(Come with me.)
He didn't simply guide her, he pulled her along with him as if wanting to keep her tethered by touch alone.
Safiya, trying to keep up with his naturally long strides, nearly stumbled, and Zaviyar without a word slowed his pace himself.
But his grip never loosened, his hand remained wrapped around hers, warm and protective, his arm subtly brushing against her side as if assuring himself she was still there.
Together, they walked toward the west wing, disappearing behind the corridor doors. Their departure left everyone standing frozen, eyes widened, jaws slackened because the sight of the great Nawab adjusting his steps to match his wife's had shaken their very understanding of him.
From the corner of her eye, Safiya caught a movement and turned her head slightly.
Kabir was half-hidden behind a tall marble pillar, peeking out like a mischievous child caught snooping.
The moment he spotted her looking, he lifted his hand and gestured animatedly pointing at her, then at his own phone, then making a dramatic 'check now!
' sign. Safiya bit the inside of her cheek to stop a laugh from slipping out.
As Zaviyar walked beside her, still holding her hand as though it anchored him, she discreetly slipped her other hand into the back pocket of her pants.
Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she pulled it out.
The screen lit up with two notifications from Kabir.
She glanced at them and an involuntary smile, small but warm, tugged at her lips.
For a moment her chest lightened despite everything that had happened today, despite the suffocating tension in the living room earlier, she had somehow gained something precious in this family.
A sweet-natured, thoughtful brother-in-law who cared for her beyond mere formality.
And as she walked beside Zaviyar, his fingers intertwined with hers she felt an unfamiliar but comforting warmth settle in her chest, a reminder that even in the most unexpected places, she was not alone.
- woh haramkhor jisne bhai ko call ki thi na ????????? woh mein hee tha
(Translation : That bastard who called bhai ????????? that was actually me)
- mene sun liya tha ki kaise ammi ki saheliyon ko lagta hai ki bhai aapko pasand nahi karta
(Translation : I overheard how ammi's friends think Zaviyar bhai doesn't like you)
- mujhe pata hai, unhe humein kuch prove nahi karna
(Translation : I know, we don't have to prove anything to them)
- lekin hum kyun unki ghatiya baatein sunein? So this is all I could think of.
(Translation : But why should we listen to their filthy comments? So this is all I could think of.)
- ab woh naya sim gayab karna padega, aap kisi ko mat batayiyega ki woh maine kiya hai
(Translation : Now I'll have to make that new SIM disappear, don't tell anyone I did that)
- aur by chance bhai ko pata chal gaya toh please please please save me maate ?????? request
(Translation : And if by chance bhai finds out, please please please save me, mother ?????? request)
Me
- chalo maaf kiya tumhe,
kal mujhe ek labubu laake dena ??
(Tran slation : Fine, I forgive you, bring me one Labubu tomorrow ??)
- astagfirullah
(Translation : God forgive us)
- usse achha aapko main ek tatiya bichchu de du
(Translation : Better than that, I should give you a wasp-scorpion)
- please mera cheque bounce mat karna ?????♂??????♂?
( Translation : Please don't bounce my cheque ?????♂??????♂?)
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Total words : 12299
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