The Burning Galaxy

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The evening had been smooth. It was a rare occasion for him nowadays, to have a day without any stress, just a day where he could exist. And today had been one of those rare days. 

He would cherish every second of it he had thought, but maybe he thought too soon. 

The sound of glass and stone among the happy conversations was like a torn in a bouquet of roses. Somehow even Zaroon had forgotten to be on his guard. He had let himself be happy, be free. 

So, the sound of glass shattering into tiny little pieces, hitting the floor beneath his feet felt as if something else was broken, not just glass. 

This shattering felt like a warning, not just of whatever was happing but of something coming, what though Zaroon could not be sure of. 

A few second of silence was followed by quick reactions, Mir Sahab, his father, and Zaroon himself were on feet immediately to check on what was the nice, and where it came. 

Going into the dining area, what they saw confirmed Zaroon's assessment. It was indeed glass breaking. The glass broken was not what he expected though. It was a window which had been broken from the outside, rather than some glass showpiece.

It was a deliberate attack on the Farooqi house.

Zaroon went towards the window to check who it had been, but whoever it was, was long. All he could see was the street lamps and few stray dogs. Next, he looked towards the source of the attack, the stone.

The stone surprised Zaroon, not because of the weapon of choice but because of the note wrapped around it. He picked stone, the contents did not surprise him at all. He had been dealing with such notes himself for a few months now. 

The note was written carelessly, in basic Urdu. A clear message to Mir Farooqi, to stop spewing non-sense, and to not write in the papers. 

This problem was increasing day by day now. Anytime an article in the newspaper went against the Muslim fanatics, or the Hindu communist he would receive such threats the writers would receive these threats as well. 

But today, they had just talked about the articles, they had just had a discussion not even a letter had been penned down, and not many knew that Mir Sahab was going to pen down some articles. It was what they were discussing Pen names. 

So, how did the fanatics know of this? Who would even have this information save a few people in the office? He was sure no one else had this information, and that would mean there was a fanatic amongst his inner circle. 

A thing which he was sure they were taking great advantage of. 

He will have to take this up with his father. 

But for now, he looked back to the ladies and found almost everyone fussing over a very miffed and embarrassed looking Dua. 

"You should not have done that Dua, " His wife scolded Dua like an elder sister would have. It warmed his heart to see her interact with someone so openly after such a long time. 

"You mean to say I should have let the glass hit you instead," Dua replied hotly.

Usually, Zaroon would have admired Dua's bravery, but his wife being potentially hurt had taken for the front, and so Dua's bravery and courageous act had to take a back seat. 

He walked towards his wife, she did not appear to be hurt anywhere, " Did you get hurt, he asked her," 

Rehana gave him an Aap-bhi-na-Zarron look, a look reserved for his idiotic questions.

"No, Dua came in front when she saw someone near the window. A glass got stuck in her hand when she went to shield us," Rehana replied looking at Dua with sadness in her eyes. 

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