At night
Zaviyar walked into the room after dinner only to be perplexed when he saw Safiya typing away on her laptop. Zaviyar sat next to her on the bed, trying to peek in to see what she was upto.
What was so peculiar one could ask? Well, Safiya had her hair tied up into a bun, her expression quite serious and specs sitting on the bridge of her nose while she wrote an email.
" What are you doing? ", Zaviyar asked reading the email she was writing to some agency.
" Trying to gather funds and open an NGO. ", she mumbled while proof reading the text.
" Oh! But where? ", Safiya clicked her tongue before pressing send and then closed her laptop turing to Zaviyar.
" Zaheer hain, Azamgarh mein. ", Zaviyar squinted his eyes.
( obviously, in Azamgarh )
" Why? ", Zaviyar asked.
" Have you seen the state in which the people are? The children are uneducated, the women here don't have basic rights. It's a very regressive state, and I think I can help them so why not. ", She said with a shrug.
" Where will you open the NGO? ", he asked leaning against the headboard.
" I guess I'll buy some land and then open the NGO. Since asking for land will take almost a decade and I'll have to run to many government offices. ", that's when something clicked in her head and she said.
" You have so much money, but i don't see any progress in the village. It's the same regressive society. People are drowning in poverty while the rich benefit from it. ", she looked at Zaviyar who sat still for a moment.
" It's not as easy as you think. I have been too busy with the water canal project, and the factories to pay attention to that sector and-", he started but was cut off by Safiya.
" Obviously why would you be concerned about the people.
The people getting education and becoming rich would mean that they quickly pay your taxes and debts.
Once that happens you stop getting the extra interest money and your authority crumbles.
", Zaviyar turned to her not believing her words.
She was indirectly accusing him on extracting money from them.
" Listen. I don't take interest from them. As for the revenue, it's because-", Safiya yet again cut him off.
" You are exploiting these people to the brink. There is no significant progress in this village, it is the same. As the head of the village you were supposed to take care of them not use their innocence to fill your pocket-", Zaviyar's eyes widened as he slammed his hand against the head board.
" Safiya! ", he screamed, his decibal high.
" What? I'm just stating facts. ", she shrugged not scared just disappointed at him for loosing his cool again.
" I'm just saying that I can help you. Getting the permission isn't easy. But if I try, then the process will be much easier and wuicker. ", he explained but Safiya shook her head.
" At first, I thought I would ask for your help but it's okay I'll handle this on my own. You would have done this if you wanted to a long time ago. ", she said before taking her laptop and sitting on the couch while Zaviyar let out a jagged breath.
" I don't need favours from you or your name to do things.
Actually, i don't want to use your name at all.
Grandfather was a complete capitalist and opportunist and i can see that you are too.
So no, I'll do this in the normal way. The last thing I want is to be only recognised as your wife because it is shameful and a direct punch to my self respect and my identity.
I don't want to be reduced to only that.
", she stated looking him dead in the eye.
" So no. I'll do this like I have always done my work. Like Safiya Shah, not as your wife. "
" You are welcome to do so. ", Zaviyar said before covering himself with the comforter and sleeping.
_____________________________________
[ The next day ]
{ So the scene below is the most unrealistic and fictional scene I've ever written but i can't help but love it. Mujhe yeh scene likhne ka bohot man tha, so please read it without using logic }
Safiya had gone to the panchayat bhavan only to be denied the permission to even meet the sarpanch. The first refusal had come quickly, almost mechanically, as though her presence itself had been an inconvenience rather than a proposal worth consideration. She did not argue then.
She simply nodded, gathered her papers, and left, convincing herself that there was only one door that had closed.
She then went to another man to talk about the property deals, hoping reason and negotiation would work there, only to be denied yet again.
The words were polite but the meaning was final.
Each refusal sat heavier than the last, pressing against her chest and tightening her jaw.
She had all the documents aligned perfectly, yet it felt like they refused to even take a look.
By the time frustration fully settled in, she had exhausted her patience and her options. Lastly, she proceeded to the collector's office, determined to take permission and speak properly about the land, the paperwork and the expenses regarding the NGO.
She told herself that this time she would be heard, that this was an official space where logic and law would matter more than prejudice and closed minds.
As soon as she stepped into the premises, several people looked up, instantly recognising her.
Some paused mid-conversation, others simply stared for a moment too long before looking away.
The murmurs were subtle but present, the awareness of who she was lingering in the air.
Safiya ignored it all and walked ahead with purpose.
She went and sat down on one of the chairs placed against the wall, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, just then a peon approached her and asked what she required.
"I need to meet the Collector regarding approval for a registered social welfare project that requires immediate administrative clearance.
", she replied, her voice steady despite the irritation simmering beneath it, only for the peon to nod and scurry into the office without another word.
Safiya leaned back slightly, exhaling through her nose, watching the door as it shut behind him.
The peon returned within a few seconds and informed her that she needed to first ask permission from the head of the village.
Safiya looked confused at that, her brows knitting together but nodded regardless. She had not expected another layer of permission but she was already too deep into this to walk away now.
" And where do I meet the head? ", she asked, glancing around the corridor, scanning faces and doors.
The peon simply stated, " He is in a meeting with the panch, the revenue officer and the collector.
Once their meeting is done I will inform you.
", before walking away again, leaving her sitting there with no clear timeline.
Safiya sighed, knowing that it would almost take an hour or two for the meeting to be over.
She shifted in her seat, adjusted her coat and took out her iPad, plugging in her ear buds to distract herself.
She started researching a show she had left in the middle, letting familiar characters and plotlines fill her ears as a way to calm herself down.
Minutes turned into hours. Safiya eventually stopped watching the drama and removed her ear buds, her attention now entirely focused on the corridor in front of her. She started waiting, truly waiting, her body stiff and her patience thinning.
She watched as one by one people went into the office, some arriving long after she had, some barely glancing in her direction before being ushered inside. Each time the door opened, her head lifted instinctively, only to lower again when it closed without her being called.
She kept waiting. Time stretched painfully slow and before she knew it, the sun had dipped and the blue sky outside the windows had turned into hues of purple and pink.
The evening light spilled softly across the marble floor, mocking the hours she had lost. She realised she had spent almost seven hours sitting in the same position, her back aching slightly, her legs numb, her resolve wearing thin.
'Maybe she should have taken Zaviyar's help-'
'No, she didn't need his help to be heard. She has done everything alone all her life why would she depend on him now.'
Just as she saw the peon approach again, she looked at him with a flicker of hope, her spine straightening. That hope shattered instantly when the peon said, " The head will meet you tomorrow since office time is over. "
Safiya's jaw dropped at that. Seven hours. Seven long hours of sitting, waiting, being ignored, only for her wait to be dismissed so casually. She shot up from her seat like a raging bull, her chair scraping loudly against the floor as she stood. " The office closes at 6 pm and it's only 5:35 pm. "
Her voice echoed slightly in the corridor, drawing a few curious glances. Anger surged through her veins, hot and sharp.
" Move out of my way...", she said before shoving the peon aside.
He stumbled back in shock, eyes widened, clearly unprepared for her reaction.
He quickly recovered and ran behind her as she ascended the stairs, her heels striking the steps with purpose, toward the office where the meeting was being held.
Safiya pushed the door open without hesitation and stepped inside.
The room fell silent almost instantly. She spotted a few people she recognised, their faces stiffening at her sudden entry.
The sarpanch was there and so was the secretary general.
Good. They were all in the same place. She could talk to all of them at once and end this unnecessary running around.
" What is this behaviour? Why did you barge into this official meeting? ", one of the men said furiously, his voice sharp with authority and irritation but seemed like he was sweating, like he was afraid of raising his voice on her.
" I have been waiting here for the last 7 hours to talk to the collector about an NGO prospec- ", she started, her words pouring out fast but she was cut off mid-sentence by the sarpanch.
" We c-cannot allow that. You can le,ave the office time is over.", he said curtly, though fumbling in his words.
Safiya gritted her teeth, the muscles in her jaw tightening before she replied, " There are still 15 minutes left for that to happen. ", The room stirred uncomfortably, chairs shifting, eyes darting between faces.
" We can't give you the permission to buy land or open anything here without the village head's permission. Without the head's permission we cant-"
" Who is this head anyway? ", she asked exasperated, throwing her hands slightly in the air.
" There's no use meeting him, since he already refused this prospect long ago. ", the revenue officer said with a shrug, as though this entire matter was insignificant. Safiya looked at him, her eyes widening in disbelief.
" and we can't sell the land to a person who is not from the village. ", another man added casually.
" I am from the village...", she said, frustration bleeding into her voice.
" I am... "...
'Zaviyar's wife' , she paused...
The words formed in her mind before she could stop them.
She paused, realising she would have to accept something she herself had promised never to use.
Ever. A sharp sense of shame crawled up her spine at the thought of using her connection to him to get the land.
The last thing she wanted was to rely on Zaviyar's name or his influence to get things done.
Her chest tightened but her resolve hardened.
" I want to talk to the head. ", she said firmly, her voice steady now. She noticed a door slightly to the side with a logo written as head. The man was probably there. Without waiting for permission, she turned on her heels and walked past the stunned men, barging straight into the office.
She saw a figure sitting on the swivel chair, his back turned to her. The room was quieter here, heavier. Her anger flared instantly. How dare he refuse her proposal without even consulting her? How dare he make her sit outside all day like she did not matter?
Safiya took a few sharp steps forward, her heels echoing against the marble floor, each sound punctuating her rage. She did not want to fail those little children or the women who were counting on her. She wanted to help them, however she could, and she refused to let arrogance stand in her way.
" Aap kaun hote hain bina mujhse baat kiye mana karne wale- ", she snapped, her voice firm and clear. Frustration laced every syllable. She had been made to sit there the whole day, made to beg in front of people just for a simple sign.
( Who are you to refuse my proposal without even bothering to take a look onc-)
The chair moved slowly. Safiya watched as it turned, revealing the person behind it. Her breath hitched the moment his face came into view.
Her eyes widened as the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
Zaviyar sat there, his back pressed against the black leather swivel chair.
His legs were crossed, his hands resting on the armrests, his posture relaxed yet commanding.
He scanned her face calmly, observing the shock and realisation ripple through her expression.
She noticed, the small, pink object he was twirling around in his hands.
The same fucking lighter she had gifted him!
Zaviyar Khan sat there, elbows resting on the armrests, fingers loosely interlocked, his expression unreadable.
She did not realise when her steps faltered slightly, her balance shifting as the cycles in her head suddenly began turning anti-clockwise. Safiya felt all the air leave her lungs, her chest tightening painfully.
" Tum... ", her voice came out barely above a whisper.