Aziz-E-Qalb

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"Ammiiii! Meri new shirt nahi mil rahi, aapne laundry mein di thi kya? Aur mera wallet bhi nahi mil raha, zara aayein na yahan!"

Musa Ashraf Khan’s voice boomed through the hallway—half whiny, half authoritative. He was a cold and ruthless man, but only for the outside world. Within the walls of Khan Mansion, he was still the same spoiled son who ran to his mother for everything.

"Ufff Allah, tees saal ka ho gaya hai, par maa ka pallu abhi tak nahi chhoda isne!" Rabiya Begum, the eldest daughter-in-law of the house, muttered with an affectionate shake of her head.

Zaina, who was comfortably lying in her Tayiammi’s lap, giggled, her innocence lighting up the moment. Rabiya Begum’s heart warmed. This girl… so untouched by the world’s cruelty.

"Tayiammi, aap baithain. Main jaati hoon unke paas. Mujhe toh unki har cheez pata hoti hai!" Zaina declared proudly.

Tayiammi smiled, kissing her forehead as Zaina hopped off and ran towards Musa’s room.

Zaina knocked before stepping in.

Musa, assuming it was his mother, didn’t even turn. "Ammiii, maine kaha tha na meri cheezein idhar udhar na kara karein! Jahan rakhoon, wahi rehne diya karein! Ab dekhein, mil nahi rahi aur main late ho raha hoon meeting ke liye!"

"B-Bhaijaan!" Zaina’s soft voice made him turn.

His sharp gaze locked onto her, making her fidget slightly.

"Aapne hi kaha tha ke 'meri shirts second cupboard mein rakhwa dena'… toh maine wahi kiya. Aapne dekha?" She said nervously.

Musa sighed, rubbing his temple before checking. She was right. Without a word, he resumed getting ready.

Just as he was about to leave, she whispered meekly,

"Bhaijaan… aap bahar ja rahe hain na? Kya mere liye chocolates le aayenge? Maine Uzair bhai se kaha tha, unhone daant ke bhaga diya..."

She looked down, her voice breaking slightly. Everyone knew how sensitive she was, but sometimes even her own brother forgot.

Musa’s jaw clenched. A storm raged in his dark eyes.

"How dare he scold HIS baby? Hoga vo uska bhai, par farz hai uska ke apni jaan ki hifazat kare!"

"Koi baat nahi, Ain. Tum jao. Main chocolates le aaunga… aur tumhare bhai ko bhi dekh lunga." His voice was calm but dangerous.

"Thik hai, Bhaijaan!" She squealed happily, then gasped. "Par please Uzair bhai ko zyada na daantein… agar unhein bura lag gaya toh?"

She looked genuinely worried, shaking her head as if already regretting complaining.

Musa chuckled. This girl, always so soft-hearted. He patted her head before walking out.

That night, Zaina was curled up on her bed, reading a novel, when her phone vibrated.

A notification.

She frowned. She barely had any friends, and Musa Bhaijaan had always been strict about keeping her number private.

Swiping the screen, she saw messages from an unknown number.

"What is my baby doing?"

Her stomach twisted.

"Who is this?" She typed back immediately.

"Ah, cut the crap. I know you know me. And soon, you’ll be under me, begging—"

She didn’t read further. The phone slipped from her trembling fingers as she gasped, her breathing ragged.

"Ya Allah…"

Panic crawled up her spine.

"Ab main kis se baat karun? Agar kisi ko bata diya toh mujhe hi galat samjha jayega… Mere toh baba bhi nahi hain… Main kya karun?"

Tears burned her eyes. She clutched her chest, trying to steady her breaths.

Uzair? No. He’d be furious, but not at the culprit. At her.

But there was one person.

Taya Abbu.

"Par abhi nahi… kal bataungi. Abhi vo so rahe honge na?"

She curled up into herself, forcing her eyes shut.

But sleep never came.

"Aadil bhai, meri ice cream de dein! Warna main sach mein aapke karname Musa Bhaijaan ko bata dungi ke aap college mein kya karte hain!"

Zaina threatened playfully, trying to snatch her stolen ice cream back from Aadil.

His face paled. She took her chance, grabbing the bowl and laughing—

Only to crash into a solid figure.

The bowl tumbled. Cold, sticky ice cream splattered onto the person’s expensive shirt.

Her breath hitched. She looked up—

Uzair.

Her blood ran cold.

"U-U-Uzair bhai…"

His expression was pure rage.

She stepped back instinctively, her heart hammering. "B-Bhai… I-I’m sorry… M-Maine nahi dekha…"

Tears welled up in her eyes as she hiccupped through her apologies.

Aadil stepped forward, attempting to defuse the situation.

"Bhai, isme iski galti nahi hai—main tang kar raha tha isay—"

SMACK.

A loud slap echoed.

Zaina’s hand flew to her burning cheek. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, pooled with tears.

Uzair had never…

Never before…

She stumbled back. And then, she ran.

Straight to her room.

Straight to her bed.

Burying her face in her pillow, she sobbed uncontrollably.

"Agar baba hote, toh mujhe bacha lete…"

"Agar ammi hoti, toh mujhe pyaar se samjhati…"

But they weren’t here.

She was alone.

And she hated it.
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