Gunnah e Shab

27. Evidence • ثبوت

What were you before you met me?
I think I was drowning
And what are you now?
Water — Ocean Vuong

In the dead of the night, when the mosquitos buzzed around the ears of those asleep and the darkness outside spread out like a dark cloak, Laila's mind was awake. Alert and cautious. Her eyes looked around the garden, her veil loosely resting on her shoulder whilst she cuddled deeper into the straw swing. Using one of her legs to sway it gently against the still air. An unusual serenity covered her features, contrasting what she felt deep down. Her hands itched to destroy. Scratch and rip at the thin curtains ; throw away the fancy vases and slam the heavy doors.

Around her destruction was everywhere. Everything reminded her of lies. Who she was, where she came from. Her life had been a lie. In the years before this one she had lived in joy with no worry resting over her shoulders. The arrival of Azmaray it seemed, brought doon with itself. Her identity had been stripped from her. Force and brutality used to make her homeless. One second she was adjusting to the life as his wife and the next her brother-in-law had thrown her life's biggest question mark at her. He had answered that which she had no desire to look for.

Azmaray stared at her worried, crossing the threshold of their bedroom and into the large balcony. He sunk to his knees infront of her, holding her hands in a tight grip. He dropped a soft kiss against her knuckles, his warm lips brushing her pale—cool skin. She looked lifeless. He had never seen Laila so silent. Even her breaths seemed to have been quietened. Nothing about her was like the woman he had married. Yet he could not hold it against her, she was perhaps crushed right now. A storm was beginning to brew under her calm facade, and it would crack, destroying everything in it's wake.

Laila turned her head towards him, a sheen of tears in her eyes. She pushed his head away softly. Her hands going under her legs, tucking herself into a small ball dropping her head on the red cushion. Sobs escaped her lips his heart piercing with pain. Easing himself into the seat, he pulled her head into his lap. Brushing her hair softly with his fingers.

"Azmaray".

Her whisper barely reached his ear. Turning his whole attention towards her, he hummed. His eyes observing her chocolate orbs, the usual glitter in them nowhere to be found.

"Azmaray Laila has passed away," she clenched her teeth.

"Aisi baat mazak mein bhi mat karna ainda," [Don't you ever say something like this even as a joke,] he murmured, his own eyes turning red.

"I feel dead. All that I knew has been taken away from me!" She cried.

"Laila you have everyone, still," he tried.

"I just found out mama isn't my biological parent. That Zaeem is my cousin. My mother passed away because my father raped her and she couldn't deal with the pain. I killed her!"

She looked into his eyes, as if hoping he could see her pain. Her eyes were an endless pool of darkness, tears falling one after the other. Her lips cracked and nose was red. She fiddled with her fingers. Her heart felt empty yet full of dread at the same time. Just when she was untangling the knots in her hair, someone had walked over and teased it more—beyond repair.

"Laila she is still your mother. She raised you. That makes her your mom you know,"

"Haan par mujh mein ab eik dard hai. Apni maa ko milnay ka! Apnay baap ko dard denay ka! Kyun kia unhon nai meri maa keh saath aisa?" [Yes but now there is this pain inside of me. To meet my mother! To cause my father pain! Why did he do this to my mother?] She looked at him for answers.