Azmaish-e-Ishq

Ch. 37: The Pond

🎶"Hum mein jo tha woh raha kyun nahin? Dil mein tha kuch toh kaha kyun nahin? Tha kabhi pyaar toh insaaf mera kardeya. Ya kabhi tha hi nahin, saaf mana kardeya, o bedardeya... Kaisa banjar seena hoga iss mein jab tu hi na hoga. Tujh bin jee toh loonga, lekin jeena kya woh jeena hoga?

(Why is what we once shared is no longer between us? If there was something in your heart, why didn't you say it? If you ever loved me, then give me justice. If you never did, then refute it directly, o merciless one... How barren this chest will be when you won't be in it. I will manage to live without you, but will that living even be considered living?)" 🎶

- O Bedardeya | Amitabh Bhattacharya | Arijit Singh

Heer's P.O.V.

It was now Thursday evening. Salaar still hadn't reached out to me in these last two days, nor did I ever since I began questioning our future together.

Every moment, it feels like I'm surrounded by a dark cloud.

"Sab kuch thik hai na, beta?" Ami asked as she combed her fingers through my hair repeatedly.
(Is everything alright, dear?)

I was laying on the couch at her house with my head on her lap. Anne was out, Baba and Abu were still at work, and Ami wanted me to spend time with her.

"Ji, Ami."
(Yes, Ami.)

"Jab se aayi ho London se, bohat chup-chaap ho. Koi baat hai kya?"
(Ever since you've come from London, you've been very quiet. Is something the matter?)

"Nahin."
(No.)

"Salaar ne kuch kaha?"
(Did Salaar say something?)

I shook my head, making my tone more uplifted, "Nahin nahin." It then occurred to me to ask. "Salaar ne aap ko phone kiya hai aaj?"
(No no. Did Salaar call you today?)

"Haan. Dopeher ko-"
(Yes. In the afternoon-)

"Ussne mere baare mein kuch puchcha?" I asked casually before she could continue.
(Did he ask anything about me?)

"Kab nahin puchchta?" she chuckled.
(When doesn't he ask about you?)

My eyes watered at her words. Toh phir mujhse kyun nahin phone kar raha hai woh? "Kya kaha?"
(Then why isn't he calling me? "What did he say?")

"Kyun? Baat nahin hui hai kya usse?"
(Why? You didn't speak with him?)

"Nahin. Phone ki battery khatam ho gayi thi," I made up as my tears threatened to spill, "Uske lunch break par baat nahin ho payi."
(No. My phone's battery died. I couldn't talk to him on his lunch break.)

"Oh, toh abhi phone kar lo. Ghar pahunch gaya hoga."
(Oh, then call him now. He must have gone home by now.)

"Ghar jaake karungi. Lekin kya kaha tha?"
(I'll do it when I go home. But what did he say?)

"Puch raha tha ke tum kaisi ho."
(He was asking how you are.)

"Aur?"
(And?)

"Aur wahi, ke kya tum uske baare mein kuch puchcha. Uske baad keh raha tha phone karega tumhe mere rakhne ke baad."
(And like you, did you ask anything about him. After that, he said that he would call you after I hang up.)

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve before settling my hand under my cheek.

"Bachpan se jaanti hoon main tumhe, Heer," her voice was more serious, "Maine bhi pala hai tumhe. Batao mujhe, kya pareshaan kar rahi hai tumhe, beta?"
(I know you since childhood, Heer. I, too, raised you. Tell me, what's bothering you, dear?)