Mehmal

Chapter 35

The MMC was officially launched by the OIC in Dubai, with the event broadcast on numerous channels across Pakistan and Turkey. The reason for this extensive coverage was the involvement of individuals from these countries in the project. Awards were also presented to Emer, Mehmal, and their team.

Emer and Mehmal arrived in Dubai two days before the event and were accorded VIP treatment.

Zaryab was working on his laptop with the TV on in front of him. His eyes fell on the screen, and he instantly recognized the man speaking. He would recognize him anywhere—it was the same man who had once been engaged to his wife. Zaryab clenched his fist, unable to contain the rage that burned within him. His body felt hot and sweaty, a fire igniting in his chest. Any man in his position would feel the same. Zaryab was no different.

Emer began his speech, introducing the project and explaining how it was designed to dispel misconceptions about Islam worldwide. Toward the end of his address, he shared a personal moment:

"One night, when I had lost the courage to continue with this project, I prayed to Allah, asking for help. I was all alone and unsure if I could do it. Little did I know that He would not only send help but also my soulmate. I am grateful to Allah. I had envisioned a small project, but He made it something much larger. MMC is solely the work of this woman and her crew. I wanted to tell the world that this woman has done a great deed for the Muslim community," Emer said, descending the stage as the spotlight followed him.

He walked straight to Mehmal, who hesitated for a moment, but he held her hand and led her back onto the stage. The crew joined them. The whole scene was not missed by someone's burning eyes. Mehmal smiled, looking at Emer with pride. Emer continued his speech, highlighting Mehmal's visionary ideals. His hand remained in hers as she gazed at him with immense pride. For them, it was as if they were engaged. They were not perfect people; they were sinners like every human being. But they had good intentions in their hearts, wanting to help others.

Mehmal knew she wasn't among the most respectable women. She was just a woman trying to help her community. She was still the same Mehmal, unchanged in personality, but with a new purpose in life. She knew she couldn't offer Tahajjud like pious women do, nor was she among those who covered themselves modestly. She knew she wasn't perfect and never could be. But she also knew that when she would be held accountable in the end, she would have nothing. Like everyone, she would be accountable for her deeds, from her dress to everything else. However, she also believed she would be rewarded for her work. That was the justice of Allah—He punishes for sins but rewards for good deeds. She could only try her best.

Zaryab watched them, knowing that Mehmal was unaware she was still his wife. He hadn't freed her.

"She never looked at me with those eyes. I never gave her a reason to look at me with pride. I'm the darkest chapter of her life," Zaryab muttered to himself.

Anger burned in Zaryab's eyes. His heart ached with the desire to strangle the man on the screen. The rage within him intensified.

She was Mehmal—his wife. Only he had the right to touch her.

That was the final wave of anger.

Downstairs in the lounge, Qureshi and Zarmeena also saw everything. They were stunned to learn that it was their Mehmal who had accomplished such a great feat. They hurried upstairs when they heard a loud crash. Zaryab had smashed the TV and several other things in his room. Qureshi Sahab quickly opened the door to find the room in shambles, with Zaryab on the floor, clutching his hands and crying. They knew from his state that he had seen everything.

Zaryab looked at them with tearful eyes. Both of them sat beside him. "Baba, I tried, but I can't do it. I can't bear this pain—it's too much. Please take it away, please," he cried in his father's arms. Zarmeena wept, witnessing her son's anguish.