Jazbaat or Facade

Echoes of Kin and Cracks in Trust

Chapter 5: Echoes of Kin and Cracks in Trust

The Lucknow evening air, carrying the sweet perfume of raat ki rani and the gentle hum of auto-rickshaws, embraced Noor Malik like an old friend. Stepping out of the air-conditioned car and onto the familiar, slightly uneven pavement outside Malik Haveli, a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Arshad, his hand resting on the small of her back, mirrored her sentiment, his gaze softening as he took in the familiar architecture of their ancestral home. Years melted away, replaced by the echoes of their youth, the laughter of their children, the comforting presence of family. Mumbai had been their strategic stronghold, the engine of their empire, but Lucknow held their hearts.
Inside the Haveli, a flurry of hushed activity was underway. Maya, her usual sharp focus softened by a rare smile, meticulously adjusted a framed photograph of a younger Hashir in his study. Angad, ever the steady anchor, secured a heavy antique bookshelf to the wall. Harshad and Neeti, their faces beaming with anticipation, oversaw the final touches in the guest rooms. Neil and Adira, their investigative instincts momentarily sidelined by familial warmth, shared quiet jokes as they unpacked boxes filled with familiar trinkets. Ruhaan, his flamboyant energy barely contained, finalized the playlist for their surprise welcome party, while Ishaani, a quiet observer, felt a sense of belonging she hadn't realized she craved.
Their arrival had been seamless, a testament to Maya's meticulous planning. They had slipped into Lucknow like shadows, their presence unknown to Hashir, Savi, and Priya. The plan was simple: a grand, unexpected reunion that would hopefully begin to mend the fractured pieces of their lives. Priya Khanna, their trusted confidante and a best cardiologist doctor, was their inside woman, feigning ignorance and ensuring Hashir and Savi remained unsuspecting in their smaller home across the city.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Mahila Police Thana (MPT) in Lucknow was anything but harmonious. The petty theft case had morphed into a tangled web, the initial straightforwardness dissolving into a murky conspiracy. The tension between Senior Inspector Hashir Arshad Malik and Sub-Inspector Karishma Singh Rathore, once a subtle undercurrent, had now risen to the surface, creating visible cracks in their usually solid professional front.
Karishma, her inherent distrust of authority figures amplified by the political undertones of the case, was convinced of the local politician's aide's guilt and frustrated by Hashir's cautious approach. "Sir, we're wasting time!" she had exclaimed during their latest heated discussion in his cramped office. "Every day we delay is another day those stolen goods are gone, another day that goon walks free!"
Hashir, his weariness evident in the lines around his eyes, leaned back in his chair. "And arresting the wrong person, Karishma, will only embolden the real culprits and further erode the public's trust in us. We need irrefutable evidence."
"Evidence that you keep finding excuses to dismiss!" Karishma retorted, her voice sharp. The unspoken feelings she harbored for Hashir seemed to fuel her frustration, blurring the lines between professional disagreement and personal angst.
"That's not fair," Hashir countered, his tone low but firm. "I'm simply advocating for due process, for a thorough investigation."
"Thorough to the point of inaction, Sir?" Karishma challenged, her gaze unwavering. "Sometimes I think your head is so lost in the intricacies that you forget the simple truth staring you in the face."
Their colleagues at MPT navigated their strained interactions with a palpable unease. Pushpa Singh, her motherly heart aching for both of them, tried to mediate, her gentle interventions often falling on deaf ears. Billu Champat, sensing the shift in dynamics, kept a low profile, his usual playful banter replaced by a quiet observation. Even Cheeta Singh, Karishma's cousin, grumbled about the 'storm brewing in their thana.'
Unbeknownst to the simmering conflict at MPT, Hashir's inner world was undergoing a quiet revolution. The solace he found in Aadhya's innocent existence and Priya's steadfast support had begun to chip away at the wall of grief he had erected around himself. The possibility of a future with Shivani, a future where their daughter knew both her parents, had taken root in his heart, fragile yet determined.
The decision to tell Shivani had been fraught with anxiety, a constant wrestling match with his fears. But the image of Aadhya's gummy smile, the unwavering belief in Priya's eyes, had finally tipped the scales. He had to be honest, to give Shivani the truth and the chance to be a mother to their child. He yearned for her presence, for her strength, to navigate the uncertain path ahead.
He had shared his decision with Priya, his voice thick with emotion. Her reaction, as his adopted mother and Shivani's biological mother, had been one of profound relief and quiet joy, her embrace conveying the depth of her support. Savi, living with them in their relatively peaceful Lucknow home, sensed a change in Hashir's demeanor, a subtle lightening of the shadows that usually clung to him.
The day Hashir resolved to call Shivani, the tension at MPT reached a boiling point. A new piece of information had surfaced in the theft case, a connection to a rival political faction, further complicating the narrative. Karishma, her initial suspicions seemingly validated, was more determined than ever to make an arrest. Hashir, however, saw the deeper machinations at play, the potential for them to be pawns in a larger game.
"Karishma, we need to tread carefully," Hashir urged, his voice laced with caution as they stood amidst the organized chaos of the evidence room. "This new link... it feels deliberate. Like someone is trying to frame this aide."
"Frame him? Sir, the evidence is mounting!" Karishma argued, her frustration palpable. "Are you suggesting we ignore a potential breakthrough because of a 'feeling'?"
"It's not just a feeling, Karishma," Hashir countered, his gaze intense. "There are inconsistencies, details that don't align. We need to understand the bigger picture before we act."
"The bigger picture? While the victims continue to suffer? While the real criminals laugh in our faces?" Karishma's voice rose, her passion bordering on anger. "Sometimes, Sir, your need to dissect every minute detail paralyzes us!"
The accusation stung. Hashir, who had always prided himself on his meticulous approach, felt a flicker of defensiveness. The weight of his personal turmoil, the impending revelation to Shivani, seemed to amplify the pressure he was feeling at work.
Pushpa Singh, witnessing the escalating conflict, stepped forward, her presence a calming force. "Children," she said gently, using her affectionate term for her officers. "Let's not let this case divide us. We all want justice. Perhaps we can review the new information together, find a common ground."
Her intervention eased the immediate tension, but the rift between Hashir and Karishma remained, a palpable strain in their professional dynamic.
As the hours ticked by, Hashir found his thoughts drifting away from the complexities of the case and towards the impending phone call to Shivani, a respectful lawyer known for her sharp intellect and unwavering ethics. He checked his phone repeatedly, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He had decided to call her after his shift, needing the relative quiet of his Lucknow home to navigate such a delicate conversation.
Meanwhile, in the vibrant yet tranquil atmosphere of Malik Haveli, the final touches were being put in place. Laughter and whispered secrets filled the air as the family prepared for their surprise. Maya, a rare smile gracing her lips, ensured every detail was perfect. Angad, his arm often around her, offered quiet support. Harshad and Neeti's excitement was infectious, their anticipation for Hashir's reaction palpable. Neil and Adira, their earlier investigative focus now fully on the family reunion, shared fond memories of their cousin. Ruhaan's energy was boundless as he finalized the decorations, while Ishaani found a quiet corner, a sense of peace settling over her as she looked forward to seeing Hashir again.
Just as the first stars began to pepper the Lucknow sky, Hashir finally dialed Shivani's number. His hand trembled slightly as he held the phone to his ear, the silence on the other end amplifying the frantic beating of his heart.
"Hello?" Shivani's voice, soft and familiar, sent a wave of conflicting emotions through him – longing, guilt, and a desperate hope.
"Shivani... it's Hashir," he managed, his voice rough.
A beat of silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken history. "Hashir," she finally replied, her tone a mixture of surprise and cautious curiosity. "What is it? What do you need?"
He swallowed hard, the carefully constructed words he had rehearsed feeling inadequate, almost trivial, in the face of the reality of her voice. "Shivani, there's something... something incredibly important that I need to tell you. Something that will change everything."
Across the city, in the softly lit living room of their Lucknow home, Priya's phone vibrated with a message from Maya: "They're here. We're just waiting for the right moment." Priya's heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of elation for the impending family reunion and a deep concern for the delicate conversation Hashir was about to have with her daughter.
Unaware of the joyous reunion unfolding just miles away, and the life-altering truth hanging heavy in the air, Hashir took another deep breath, ready to finally unveil the secret he had guarded for so long. He was ready to tell Shivani about their daughter, about Aadhya.
But just as the words formed on his lips, his phone buzzed again. This time, the message was from an unknown number, the stark words sending a chill down his spine: "Consider the consequences, Inspector. Some truths shatter more than they heal."
The weight of the ominous message crashed down on him, extinguishing the fragile hope that had begun to flicker within. The demons of his past, it seemed, were not ready to be silenced. And the truth he was about to reveal was now shrouded in a chilling premonition of danger.