Qubool Hai (MeeraSim FF)

13 -Habas

There was an awkwardness in the air as the fruit pickers stood clumped, watching the scene before them. It wasent everyday their Khaani makes a trip and becomes injured in their company.

Murtasim sensed it too. He looked up at the workers with all the authority of a boss- his gaze questioning their lack of work. They saw his intense glare. Without a word, they began to disperse and return to their earlier tasks.

'Challo, kaam pay lag jau.' Rohail called out when half of them had already began to return. ( Come on, get back to work.)

It seemed like it was just the three of them left.

Rohail failing to make eyecontact with either of them after that fiasco.

Murtasim looked her up and down brazenly as he stood- uninjured.'Its just a sprain,' he reassured them, and himself. There was a sense of relief.

Wondering how he would face his father if he bought home an injured wife after their trip- the word zimidaari echoing in his ears.

For some reason, Murtasim's gaze lingered, he couldn't pull himself away from looking at her, the wind pushing and pulling at her clothes immodestly- taunting him.

She pulled the edge of her right shalwar down to hang normally and dusted her clothes with her palms.

No one else dared a double-take.

Rohail tried to patch up his mistake, 'Meerab ko hospital lay chaltay hain, x-ray karwa letey hain.' ( Let's take Meerab to the hospital to get an x-ray done.)

Murtasim rolled his eyes. 'Tum tou iss say bhe zyada toofanal nikla.' Murtasim remarked in disbelief. ( You turned out to be more of an exaggerator than her.)  It was just a small fall. Shes fine.

That's when Meerab spotted the scarf on the floor, which had been a mere after-though in the shock of the fall. She reached down to retrieve it and placed on her her head- regardless of the dusty patches.

Murtasim noticed the way a couple of her long hairs stuck to her face, especially around her mouth- the aftermath of eating that sweet and creamy floral fruit. Then he remembered the reside on his hands too- they had been eating mangoes together.

She took a deep inhale and exhale at the scene of the mangoes rolling around on the floor- what had she done. There was a tinge of guilt as she looked at the wasted efforts.

There was a small buzz of irritation in realisation that she had been out here , with Rohail, enjoying the best of their produce- it should have been him. Murtasim closed his eyes and balled his fists. Trying not to focus on the way Rohail had almost hurt his wife in his carelessness.

Meerab pushed her hair back and stood up tall, bracing herself for a telling off- for going to the farm without telling him, for picking the mangoes personally or maybe the dupatta that had gone astray.

Murtasim tried to fathom Rohail's thought process to being them to this scene.

There was recklessness, and then just plain stupid. The place was crawing with employees thay could have picked the mangoes for them. Heck, they should of have this mango - picking idea at a shorter tree so she wouldnt even need a ladder. Then Murtasim turned to address him. 'Din mei bhe nasha karnay lag gaya hou?' ( Have you started drinking in the day time too?)

Rohail coughed on air, his hand coming to rest on his chest. 'Yaar kya keh raha hai ... Meerab kay saamney,' he whined. ( Bro what are you saying.... Infront of Meerab.)

He didnt like the way he said his biwi's name and his nostrils flared.

Rohail picked on the cause of anger at the first instance and put his hands up in defeat. Correcting himself, '.... Bhabi kay saamne...' he spoke as he made eye contact with Meerab, his voice in a softer tone. ( In front of my sister-in-law.)