Meri Musibat [Tere Bin FF]

8. the murtasimbakri khan chronicles

Humans were strange creatures, Murtasimbakri Khan mused, nibbling on a particularly juicy tuft of grass. Their behavior patterns were incomprehensible, and their communications, a cacophony of bewildering sounds.

Her Human Mom was delightfully peculiar. She had a voice like tinkling bells, tender hands that fed and caressed with equal finesse, and eyes that twinkled with unspoken tales of joy and mischief, and a hint of sadness that didn't suit her. Human Mom had left some time ago, leaving Murtasimbakri in the capable, albeit reluctant, hands of Human Dad.

The stern-faced, grumbling Human Dad, was a study in contradiction. He was big and intimidating, but his eyes softened when they landed on Human Mom, melting into pools of warmth.

With Human Mom's departure, whenever he was in Murtasimbakri's presence, he insisted, in his deep, rumbling voice, "I don't want to hear about Meerab," and then proceed to ramble about her, his words weaving a canvas of concern, longing, and a myriad of emotions Murtasimbakri couldn't decipher.

The days rolled on, each dawn and dusk marking the passage of time in a slow, tantalizing dance of shadows and light. Murtasimbakri missed Human Mom terribly, missing the sweet cadence of her voice, the gentle touch of her hands, and the love that seemed to radiate from her like the sun's warmth. However, Human Dad, despite his gruff demeanor, provided solace. He would sit beside her in the evenings, a contemplative expression painting his rugged features, his gaze lost in the horizon, his thoughts undoubtedly about Human Mom.

She was getting quite bored in the spacious haveli without Human Mom, until Human Dad took her on a trip, to the farm he had gotten her from.

Murtasimbakri trotted excitedly through the familiar farm gates, her tail wagging with anticipation. She had heard so much about this place, the land of her birth, and yet, due to her early adoption, she hadn't really gotten to explore it. Today was special. Human Dad was taking her to visit her birth family - her brothers and sisters who were eager to show her around.

Her brother, Badal, with his pitch-black coat, and her sister, Bahaar, who was as white as the clouds, greeted her with nuzzles and excited bleats. They were quickly joined by their myriad siblings, each with their distinct appearances and personalities. There was Gulab, who had a unique pink hue to her coat, and Pari, the prettiest little lamb who had captivating blue eyes. And their eldest sibling, Roshan, who had the whitest fur and an angry disposition.

Badal and Bahaar, acting as the seasoned guides, showed her around. They introduced her to the art of selecting the juiciest patches of grass, shared secrets on finding the coziest napping spots, and regaled her with tales of the infamous 'Farm Olympics' where animals raced and played games.

More than the places and the stories, it was the wisdom that fascinated Murtasimbakri. Bahaar told her about love – how every season, the most handsome rams courted the prettiest ewes with elaborate dances and serenades. Gulab and Pari shared hushed tales of passionate romances and broken hearts among the farm animals. Badal, always the serious one, enlightened her about the intricacies of mating.

In between all the lessons and stories, there was farm gossip. From feuds between roosters to the scandalous love triangle involving a duck, a hen, and a rather charismatic turkey, Murtasimbakri was introduced to a world of drama she had never known.

After absorbing the various farm tales her siblings shared, Murtasimbakri was bubbling with enthusiasm to reciprocate with her own stories. Sitting amid her brothers and sisters, she began weaving tales about the two most fascinating creatures she had observed – Human Dad and Human Mom.

She excitedly described to her siblings the fascinating dance of human conversation.

Every time Human Mom leaned forward, emphasizing a point or sharing a secret, Human Dad would unwittingly lean in too. And when Human Dad took a step back, perhaps overwhelmed by the intensity of the conversation, Human Mom would mirror the movement, ensuring the space between them remained constant. This dance of forward-and-backward had become such a routine, it looked like a choreographed performance.