Risen from dust

Twenty five

Harris sat in the cozy living room of their new home, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm ambience. As he looked around, he couldn't help but feel a sense of displacement, as if they were mere guests in this unfamiliar place. The memories of their grand haveli lingered, but this new abode held its own charm. Sairah, however, had found a deep connection to their new home. It had been her refuge, a sanctuary where she had sought solace after escaping her family's clutches. Here, she had built meaningful relationships, forging bonds with friends who had become like family. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she shared her plans with Waliya.

"Waliya, I want you to meet one of my dearest friends, Haneen Begum," Sairah exclaimed, her voice filled with anticipation. "She's a wonderful lady, and I'm eager for you to know her. We should pay her a visit this weekend when her daughter-in-law is usually out attending her social gatherings. Harris, you should come with us, betta." Harris leaned back in his chair, contemplating Sairah's suggestion. A smile crept across his face as he replied, "No, you and amma should go and have a great time. I have some business matters to take care of. Besides, Danyal is returning soon, and he's going to be married within a year." The pride in his voice was evident, for Danyal had grown into an admirable young man, a source of joy and pride for Harris, who regarded him as his own son. Waliya and Sairah had quickly settled into their new home, growing fond of the place. They couldn't help but feel empathy for Harris, hoping that Allah would soon grant him the peace he desired. Harris had experienced a tumultuous life, always displaying patience and resilience.

Noor rushed into Daadi's room, her voice filled with panic. "Jee Daadi," she blurted out, momentarily forgetting that she wasn't supposed to address her with that term. "Is there something you need? I'm here to help." She struggled to catch her breath, having sprinted up the stairs in her haste. Daadi's eyes narrowed, and she scolded Noor sharply, "Listen to me carefully. This is the first and the last time you make such a mistake. Didn't your parents teach you to listen and respect your elders? I specifically asked you to bring me dinner. Where is it?" Noor's heart sank as she realized her oversight. She had been so engrossed in styling Zenia's hair that she had completely forgotten about Daadi's dinner. It wasn't intentional, but given her circumstances, it seemed like a deliberate neglect to Daadi, who didn't know Noor well. "I'm deeply sorry, Daadi. It was never my intention to disregard your request. I got caught up with Zenia..." Her voice trailed off, unable to find the right words to explain her distraction.

"Oh, so now Zenia's needs are more important than mine," Daadi retorted bitterly, her frustration evident. "Fine. I can inform Mehnaz that you're not interested. She can find someone else." Daadi had grown tired of encountering girls like Noor, who made excuses and failed to fulfill their responsibilities.

Tears streamed down Noor's face as she pleaded, "Daadi, please forgive me. It will never happen again. Please don't speak to Madam about this. She will dismiss me, and I have nowhere else to go." Her sobs echoed through the room, revealing the depth of her distress. Daadi's heart softened as she witnessed the genuine despair in Noor's eyes. However, she understood that showing too much compassion would undermine her authority and hinder any chance of making Noor understand the importance of her duties.

Daadi took a deep breath, gathering her resolve. "Fine," she said in a commanding voice, loud enough to convey her seriousness. "Consider this your last chance. But remember, I expect nothing less than perfection from now on. Rudeness and negligence will not be tolerated." Her words carried a stern warning, emphasizing that while love and empathy had their place, disrespectful behavior would always be met with consequences.

Noor nodded vigorously, her tears still flowing. She understood the gravity of the situation and the opportunity she had been given. She vowed silently to make amends, to prove herself worthy of Daadi's trust, and to demonstrate her commitment to her duties.

As Noor hurriedly descended the stairs to retrieve Daadi's dinner, she unexpectedly collided with a solid figure. "Ouch," she exclaimed, instinctively rubbing her head. When she looked up, she found herself gazing into the captivating eyes of Zaviyaar, who stood before her in all his mesmerizing glory. Her heart skipped a beat, and her words stumbled in her mouth, overwhelmed by his close proximity.

"What is it, little Noor? Did you hit yourself too hard?" Zaviyaar teased, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"No, I'm... fine," Noor managed to reply, her cheeks blushing slightly under his gaze.

"Cat got your tongue?" he continued playfully. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Just move out of my way. I need to go," she retorted, a mix of determination and shyness evident in her voice.

"Make me," he challenged, his eyes locked with hers in an intense exchange.

Before Noor could respond, she spotted Madam Mehnaz approaching, and she seized the opportunity to escape. With a mischievous giggle, she swiftly maneuvered past Zaviyaar, leaving him bewildered by her sudden victory. In that moment, she seemed like a carefree young girl, and Zaviyaar found himself inexplicably drawn to her infectious spirit. Without hesitation, he followed her, compelled by an unseen force that he couldn't comprehend. "Noor," he called out, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Yet, she didn't turn back to acknowledge him. Determined to understand this newfound fascination, Zaviyaar pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the corridor. As he approached the kitchen, where Noor had disappeared, his mother's voice interrupted their clandestine encounter, urging them to hurry up or risk being late for their party.

In his 26 years of existence, Zaviyaar had grown accustomed to his mother's ungrateful demeanor, a trait she extended even to her own children. The upcoming party was yet another occasion he dreaded attending, as he anticipated his mother's attempt to introduce him to yet another potential match for marriage. The monotony of this routine had worn him down, with each encounter feeling increasingly tiresome and insincere. However, amidst his discontentment, there was something remarkably different about Noor. She intrigued him with her authenticity and genuineness, qualities he found lacking in the women his mother paraded before him. Noor, with her radiant spirit and captivating presence, had managed to pique Zaviyaar's curiosity in a way no one else had. Her laughter echoed in his mind, her playful defiance leaving an indelible mark on his heart. There was an inexplicable allure in her simplicity, a breath of fresh air amidst the suffocating expectations of his privileged life. Noor stood apart, like a vibrant flower in a garden of artificial beauty. Zaviyaar yearned for a connection that transcended societal expectations, a bond that was fueled by genuine emotions rather than materialistic desires. He longed to unravel the layers that encompassed Noor's enigmatic persona, to discover the depths of her soul and the secrets hidden behind her eyes.

Noor sat beside Daadi as she ate her dinner, a mixture of concern and curiosity etched on her face. With genuine care in her voice, she dared to ask the question that had been nagging at her for a while. "Daadi, why don't you go to the party with the rest of the family?" Noor couldn't fathom why Daadi, the eldest of them all, seemed like an outcast within her own family. Haneen Begum hesitated at first, weighing the consequences of revealing her truth to a mere maid. But deep down, she knew there was no harm in sharing her burden. After a long sigh, she decided to open up. "My dear, Noor, Madam Mehnaz despises me. She captured my son, Ibrahim, with her superficial beauty, leaving me with no choice but to accept her as his wife. Being my only son, I had no option but to succumb to his wishes. However, ever since she stepped into this house, my life has turned into a living hell," she confided, tears streaming down her weathered cheeks. Overwhelmed with empathy, Noor's heart ached for Daadi's pain. She felt a profound sorrow for the old woman who had endured such anguish. Determined to bring some solace, she spoke with genuine sincerity. "I'm so sorry for asking, Daadi. I didn't mean to make you cry. Please forgive me. If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me. I truly want to ease your suffering." Unexpectedly, Daadi reacted by playfully tapping Noor on the head, a sign of affection mingled with sternness. "You silly girl, don't call me Daadi, and never interfere in my life again," she scolded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Now, go to bed. It's late." Noor nodded, her eyes brimming with gratitude for the small moment of vulnerability Daadi had shared. She understood the importance of boundaries, but deep down, she couldn't help but hold a glimmer of hope that one day, she might be able to bring some happiness and healing to Daadi's troubled heart. With a gentle smile, Noor bid her goodnight and retreated to her own thoughts, contemplating the intricate dynamics that weaved through the lives within the grand house.