Gunnah e Shab

7. History • تاریخ

And God said "Love your enemies" and I obeyed him and loved myself - Khalil Gibran

The tea leaves steeped in the boiling water on top of the stainless steel stove. Bubbling and rising to the surface, the aroma of tea grains, rising into the air. Steam rising onto the face of the cook, instantly warming the insides. Anbar sighed as she lifted the saucepan and turned the stove off. Straining the tea, she sighed as the cup filled slightly less than full. Adding in a splash of milk, she carried the cup out of the kitchen. Her fingers running across the wide lip of the saucer, the water lilies painted on the white porcelain, shining as moonlight fell on them.

Taking soft steps towards the rooftop, Anbar ignored the feeling of someone's eyes on her. Solely focused on the steaming tea and the sound of soft snowfall outside. Winters and Swat were a sight to see. And the position of the large mansion, enable it to enjoy a lot of the glorious scenes. Fixing her shawl on her shoulders, thick fuzzy socks on her feet and the dark maroon slides, silently smacked against the thick carpet of the hallways.

"Yeh kia kar rahi ho?" [What are you doing?] A baritone voice called behind her.

Anbar stilled in her place. Cursing under her breath as she turned slowly. Coming face to face with Asghar.

"W-woh bhai m-mein —" [T-that brother  I-I —] she stuttered.

Words tumbling out in an incoherent mess as she tried to make an excuse. Asghar was a total 180 of her father. Whilst her father was a calm man, who was always sensible however, Asghar liked things to go his way. And the young woman of his family, at three in the morning, going to the roof was a strict no.

"Yeh koi tareeka hai?" [Is this any way?] He gripped her elbow.

"I'm sorry!" She tried to get her hand out of his strong grip.

"Go to your room!" He ordered.

Nodding her head, she scampered from his sight. Her heart still racing as she entered her room. In the confines of it, only did she realise that some of the scalding tea had dropped onto her hands. A red blister already forming as she rushed to the bathroom. Hot tears streamed from her cheeks, eyes shut tight as she controlled her sobs.

"Anbar?" A knock sounded on her door.

Wiping her tears harshly, hiding her hand under the thick shawl she opened the door, shocked to see her mother up at such a hour.

"Why are you crying?" Hooriya questioned, puzzled.

Anbar shook her head, launching herself into her mother's warm embrace. Sobbing into her chest softly. Hooriya had stepped out of her to grab a glass of water when she saw a furious Asghar descending the stairs and a loud thud coming from Anbar's bedroom. It awakened her worries as she ran to her only childs bedroom.

"Anbar say something!" Hooriya gently rubbed circles on her back.

"Nothing mama. I was just wondering if-if I could go to Lahore to stay at nano's for a while?" Anbar spoke softly.

Her grandmother's home was her escape from the cruel traditions that her paternal family loved to follow. The only silver lining? Her betrothal to Azmaray. A man about whom she had dreamt, all her life.

On the other end of the palatial home though, the situation was a total opposite. Azmaray, slept peacefully under the thick duvet. Its silk, sage green cover with pink hydrangeas printed on top, scraped against his warm, broad chest. A hand resting under his face, the other, tucked out of the blanket, maintaining a comfortable temperature on his body.