Qubool Hai (MeeraSim FF)

55 - Nowroz

''Anas bhai, gaadi modho,'' Meerab ordered, their plans redirected. The tension rose, knowing that Saba's stress hinted at a volcano that threatened to erupt, her hands clutching the border of the chador like some mighty shield to try hide within. (Turn the car.)

The awkwardness was tangible, so Meerab didn't press like she wanted to. The wavering in Saba's voice was enough to suspect something that could ruin the peace.

Still on the speaker, Saba half choked and sniffled from fear, unable to hold in the secret, so she spluttered, ''I'm pregnant.''

The words took just a second to register before they felt the car jolt, Anas looking over to Meerab with wide eyes of shock. The words hung between them, the ramifications of such a reality felt like a ticking time bomb. Murtasim had arranged for Rohail to be sent away to the other side of the country with a legitimate excuse so that the odds of their alliance being discovered diminished. But their efforts had been too late in hindering the avalanche taking off, of the conception of a child.

It was mid afternoon, the sky coloured in a paint of a crisp wintery pastel blue but not an ounce of serenity remained. ''Saba tum baithi raho, main aa rahi hun,'' Meerab informed, her own voice duller from what had been uncovered. (Saba, you sit and wait. I'm coming to you.)

The call switched off without another word, and Anas gulped at what his ears bore witness too. ''Rohail... '' Anas growled at the stupidity, at the reckless mess he had left behind.

''Jo hogaya, so ho gaya,'' Meerab cut off, gulping, mind racing and trying to grasp for some resolution but it seemed unlikely. (What ever has happend, is done.)

''Murtasim ko batana chahiye,'' Anas said despite now driving towards the late Waqas Ahmed's house. His shoulders were squared, tense from overhearing the daunting news. (We should tell Murtasim.)

Meerab tut, ''Murtasim ghar pe nahi hai abhi, to abhi kuch nahi kar sakta. Mama ke ghar jaa rahe hain, Karachi nahi jo woh tension lega.'' She had decided then and there that the issue could only be tamed not solved. Visiting her own house was a mundane act and her cousin beckoned her - begged her to come through a pool of tears. (Murtasim isn't currently at home so can't do anything. I'm going to my own mother's house, not running away to Karachi that it would be a point of concern.)

It seemed like there was no other person in the world that could have soothed Saba - there was a duty, as her cousin, like a sister, as their Khaani.

''Still bhabi,'' Anas disagreed, hesitant as to how such an unprecedented matter should dealt with.

The interior of the car felt limiting, their moves felt limited - one misstep could cause an inferno that wrecked the entire of the Khan and Malik's ties - they would search for blood for ruining Saba's 'izzat.' Just in the same way that Murtasim shot at Mir for even saying his 'izzat's' name at the panchayat.

''Main akeli nahi hun. Mera bhai mere saath hai. Aur woh Rohail ki biwi hai. Jab Rohail door hai, to Saba Murtasim ke zimmedaari hai, to phir meri bhi hai,'' Meerab explained, pulling the chador firmer as if to affirm the point. (I am not alone. I have my brother with me. And she is Rohail's wife. Seeing as though Rohail has been sent far away, she is Murtasim's responsibility, and by extension, mine too.)

She was making a decision, advising and finding a fair middle ground. It wouldn't have been fair to abandon Saba when she was the reason for pulling the pair apart physically. Her sister had called and she didn't intend to reject the call.

''Murtasim ke zimmedaari hai to usko handle karne do,'' Anas suggested on edge, wary of disobeying the Khaani. (Since it's Murtasim's responsibility, let him deal with it.)