Ittefaq Say (MeeraSim FF)

8 - Araam

Murtasim reached into his blazer pocket and took out a box of cigarette. He pulled out a stick and tapped it on the side before looking up to ask, 'Main pee lou?' He asked, hopeful that she wouldn't turn him down. (Can I smoke?)

But they were sharing the same air and the window was shut.

Meerab didn't hesitate before saying, 'Nahi.' (No.)

She was about to suggest that he go outside- but that wasn't really an appropriate suggestion on a train moving at 60 miles per hour. Opening the door would also cause too much of a racket for the sleeping travellers.

'Acha.' He nodded at her refusal, putting it away without complaint. 'Aapko dhuvan nahi pasand?' He enquired to research the source of their differences. (Okay. You don't like the smoke?)

Meerab scoffed at the idea that it was smoke that she didn't like. She shook her head and said, 'It's the smell.'

He smirked at her indirect taunt. He had grown accustomed to the smell over time, it was a side effect of the short high for him.

'Buri aadaton say parhez rehna chahiye.' Meerab said, instantly flooded by the memory of her parents- as these were words muttered often by them. That loneliness washed over her again in their rememberance. (One should not be indulged in bad habits.)

Murtasim nodded agreeing, but he had taken the first step long ago and now he often succumbed to the addiction. 'Sahi keh rey hou. Par buri aadatein aasani say nahi chut thi.' He remarked in his own defence. But he was willing to put it away on her account. She was so prim and proper- so he followed her lead. (You are right. But it is difficult to let the bad habits go.)

Then they talked a little more, about her favourite english books and his, in urdu. About her favourite jewellery and his favourite cricketers- both listening with willing ears despite not fully comprehending the enthusiasm with which they shared their interests.

A couple hours or so passed like this.

It wasn't even fajr when a member of the train staff knocked on the door before opening it rather forcefully. Their vulture like gazes landed upon her without a hint of their previous decorum.

Something was wrong.

'Madam, hummay ittala aayi hai kay aap ticket kay beghair behti hui ho.' The conductor announced, barging into their compartment. The space instantly felt smaller, and a sense of tightness washed over her. (Madam, it has been brought to our attention that you have boarded the train without a ticket.)

Meerab's words of wisdom seemed a little hypocritical now. After all, is the habit of smoking comparable to theft by jumping a train?

Murtasim stood up at his lack of concern for her personal space. 'Yeh kya badtameezi hai? Aurat say aisay andaaz mai baat kartey hai?' (What behaviour is this? Is this how one talks to a woman?)

Meerab had never been one for conflict, and her heart began hammering in her chest.

The conductors gaze was harsher than necessary and Murtasim picked up on it instantly, suddenly overcome with the need to defend her. Murtasim stepped forward, they were the same height. He squared his shoulders, preparing to even the playing field.

The conductor only shook his head at the notion that his behaviour was untoward- inferred from Murtasim's attitude towards them. 'Saab, yeh chori ka mamla hai,' he informed the passengers, as a matter of fact. His voice fiending authority. (Sir, this a matter of theft.)

Chori- her hands trembled slightly. Her lies were unweaving prematurely. She had hoped that she would have reached a little further before being thrown off.