"کیا ہم تیرے قرض دار تھے؟"
Karzdaar | Indebted
A novel by Ewrites1
ZAINA MIRZA.
A tale of a courageous girl brought up in a fouji household. The daughter of a former army colonel, away from reality.
Her life has riddles and ancestral secrets that s...
Half an hour had passed. There was an awkward silence in the classroom since he entered. He had only said 'Good morning' since that time. The voice was very competent even though it was two words.
After assigning something on the calendar and setting a time limit, he sat on the chair beside the window; labeling something from a newspaper. He took light sips from the black coffee mug kept on the table and examined the students from time to time.
"Mujhe to daal mei Kuch kala lagta hai," Zaina whispered to Minahil from behind.
"Kale ka pata nahi.. safaid to zaroor hai!" She replied.
"Minahil ki bachi.. khaberdaar jo tune iss vadere ko check out kiya ho to.." Zaina tapped her shoulder.
"Mujhe to dar zyada lag raha hai bhaeee."
"Tujhe kyu lag raha hai?.. sunayi to mene thi."
"Pata nai.. lagta hai usne tujhe pehchana nahi hai abhi tak.." Minahil had predicted.
"Haan.. niqaab se wese bhi nai pehchane ga tu chill maar." Zaina sat back.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
There were now whispers and gossips spread in the room. No one spoke to him, they didn't know his name, subject or department but he just didn't give them "professor" vibes. Nonetheless, everyone was too hesitant to ask him any questions. As soon as he would look up, the whole class would look at their pages and pretend to work; then back up when he would look away.
Another 10 minutes, He got up holding his mug with one hand and the other in his pocket walking back and forth between the rows. The top few buttons of his shirt were open just like it was the day before in the car and his white cuffed sleeves were rolled upwards. He still had those shaded spects on which prevented any view of his eyes from a distance. His hair was black with a few brown highlights. That was all Zaina and Minahil could figure out sitting at the farthest end.
He was now walking towards their desks.
"Hayeee Minahilll ye yahan kyu araha hai. Isko keh duje pasey jaye."
"Acha mei kehti hoon k professor chacha zara aap apni chehal kadmi uss taraf jaa ker kareinge please?.. yahan hamari Zaina bibi aap se chup rahi hain!" Minahil said sarcastically.
"Dafa ho! Kisi kam di nai tu." Zaina opened up a book to hide her face as much as possible.
"Yaar ek to stress mei tumhari Punjabi baher ajati hai aur mujhe Kuch samaj nahi aati." Minahil complained.
As soon as he came beside Zaina's table, she could smell his strong cologne. She didn't dare to look at him, her eyes were stuck on the book. He paused walking. Zaina prayed that he didn't say anything.
"Your book is upside down." He turned to Zaina.
His voice sent her unexplainble shivers. She had never wanted to run away from somewhere so bad.
