Zameer: No Man's Land

18.

Standing at the entrance of the airport I looked back at the city, at the country, at the place which was not mine, which was filled with people not from my community, with people living with believes and customs different from mine and yet the place which has given me more than enough. The place that gave me my Baaji's salvation, as I presume since he never once confirmed even in his ghost form. The place gave me adventure,outlook, perspective, awkwardness, and a crazy suitor. I sighed watching at the auto and taxi drivers calling for their passengers as if I'd run back at them and ask them to drop me at Rawalpindi back again. As if they are calling me to come back. Should I?
That's not even a question.

I moved forward inside the airport and stood in the line for the procedures. The security was tighter for visitors from India for some obvious reasons. I was upset for leaving baaji and Momina alone like that but at the end of the day, it was their home....whichever country it may fall upon.
An hour or two passed with all the airport procedures and now I was in the waiting lobby waiting for my flight name to be called. My eyes started getting heavy since all the sleepless crying last night. I looked at my wrist watch and getting relieved that the flight still had some time to board off, put my purse on my side and leant on it after closing my eyes, you can call it a power nap time. It was easy to doze off here where nobody cared nobody paid a single heed, it was easier to sleep somewhere which didn't feel like home, which had to haunting known spirits with emotions attached.

My slumber broke with a slight push on my shoulder, I woke up lazily and looked in my right where I could see long legs wearing jeans of a man standing enough closer to me. My eyes opened wide since I realised a soft maroon muffler placed between my neck and the purse, actually, it was THE muffler. I looked up immediately only to find him smiling one ear to another folding his arms across his torso and looking at me with some achivement.

"What's with the habit of you sleeping in airports rather at home?" He said while I was getting out of my sleep and getting back my sanity. I folded the muffler and forwarded it back to him while standing up in front of him.

"I told you, it has your drool...old and new, I cannot keep it" he said again but that didn't sound funny. That CANNOT had a special effect when he said it with those eyes...those painfully hopeful eyes.
I looked at him and lowered my eyes while withdrawing my hand.

"I....I think I should...." I said half words and pointed towards the door where passengers have already started to enter, the queue was getting shorter every minute. He nodded simply and flashed me his supressed smile. Zaid wasn't this, he didn't smile pursing his lips tight...he smiled showcasing his gums even, he smiled lifting his eyes and making them shine even. It was unmeasurabl-y painful to see him this way. I hugged him, as tight as I could. I clogged his upper torso in between my arms and pasted my head right beneath his chin and tried to listen to his throat...how it must sound to form words. Does that awkwardness, that hesitation to choose words, uncertainty of whether should speak or not, or just the helplessness of having thousands words bubbling inside the throat but not coming out with sound...does all this have a sound? Can anybody from outside hear it? However much closeness that may require, can I hear it inside him?
I cannot.
He engulfed his face in my hair and what I did hear was the muffled groan slipped out his mouth when he covered me around him, almost completely. The pain started to increase and decrease at the same time. The guilt started to rise and fade at the same time. We stayed like that for a moment and then mutually parted away. I saw him stealthily wipe his tears which brought one to mine but I mentally punched my gut to take it back as it was getting way too dramatic and emotional a scenario.

"Meet me someday..." I said, that was me trying everything I could to compensate for not returning his love interest and actually it wasn't just Vedant being the hurdle here but many more practical things standing our way to stop us. Zaid and I were not apart of our religions but of our homes and there was no way to mutualise that. He simply nodded lowering his head and I decided to finally get blurred from his vision.

Throughout the flight I couldn't sleep again, he was right, I had some serious syndrome of not being able to sleep in appropriate places. The smallest canvas piece of Khattati entitled with Baazi's name was peeking from my purse. I had taken, actually stolen, some of Momina's belongings from her house to take home and give it to my dad. He couldn't get his wholesome mother so her belongings at least. Maaji needed to see that all her sacrifice and malign and betrayed heart kept intact right in its case still belonging to him...was not in vain. Momina loved him back and maaji deserved to be proud about the fact that she didn't come in between, however hurt she was and still is since her marriage.

The journey returned was not that long as the flight was different and it's stay in Kabul was not for that long. I reached India around the dusk. The muffler was tied in my wrist as it was comforting enough to not stuff it back in the purse. Carrying my cart forward I breathed back in India and a smile appeared on my face instantly because coming back had an achievement in it. I came back after completing my task, my vow, my ambition of reuniting the forlorned souls. The fear that I was living with since past 13 days in Pakistan was finally gone now. I walked towards the exit when something caught my eyes outside the window. The painting of the Hijaab girl.

I ran outside only to find Vedant holding it. I ran towards him and couldn't hug him, some certain emotions overwhelm and stop you like that and for these particular emotions only, my regret had started to fade the moment I hugged zaid. It was all I could do and the least he wanted from me but I didn't betray anyone for that matter. I was still pure and devoted. There was no question on me. It feels good and satisfying when you justify yourself to yourself and actually get convinced because one of the most easiest emotion in the world is hatred to self, especially for people like those who are still unknown to their personalities.

Vedant flashed me a tired smile and looked at me with his longed eyes. I smiled back with questions written on my forehead as to why he brought Momina's portrait here.

"I.....I don't know what brought me to bring her here....but you caught me immediately because of her only so...I think it was a success..." He said nervously chuckling and being very hesitant to justify himself. I was surprised with the telepathy we shared after he answered my most desiring question without asking.
I chuckled nervously too. The awkwardness was bubbling inside us which, to be very honest, wasn't present even when we met for the first time. Perhaps, the difference of emotions budding inside each of us was creating all this fuss.

"Successful indeed, although...you shouldn't have waited for me here...I....would have gone home alone just fine..." I said. You say weird stuffs when your brain doesn't work properly and the fun fact is later on you justify your words with all the logic in the world. What else could I have said? I missed you and left a handsome rich stylish man crying for me behind just for you? I said apt things.

"I wanted to see you...before you see others." He blurted out and I immediately entered my insane world where nothing called brain works and heart thumps as loud as ever, where all I want to do is touch him...even his hair or a finger and just listen to him. Where I feel I don't need to answer him anything since he knows how my brain works.

I kept thinking and smiling while he took me to taxi and we set off to our home.

"So......how does it feel, coming back?" He asked to which I immediately turned back to him from the window outside figuring out the differences between India and Pakistan. Yes, Im never coming back from that I presume.

"Hunn? Oh...it feels home." I said looking at him. He smiled. That warm small smile of Vedant where his forehead rests plain and eyes seem like about to cry.
I couldn't hold myself from engulfing my hand into his and resting my head on his shoulder. He seemed tad bit uncomfortable as he noticed the eyes of the taxi driver on the rear mirror eyeing us and creating judgements. I parted away immediately which made him even more startled.
He opened his mouth to say something but instead slid his hand into mine and covered it with his. We stayed like that.

"I....um...I never told you but I think I should...." He spoke and his words made me look at him with utmost curiousity as to what it could be.

"The day I took this painting in the Daan Kriya, I was dismissed from my house."

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Book coming to its end.
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