Qubool Hai (MeeraSim FF)

52 - Raaz

Contains smut

A couple minutes passed as they slurped the hot and aromatic drink, the gentle tune interrupted when Maa Begum enquired, ''Panchayat kaisi ja rahi hai Meerab?'' The widow was preoccupied with resting, focusing on self care through the tumultuous grieving period, but craving for an update. (How is the panchayat going?)

That reminded Meerab, her dainty teacup lowered as she began to narrate, ''Aik aurat aayi thi panchayat pe, aur bata rahi thi ke uske ghar ke qareeb koyi school nahi hai, tou uski bacchi school nahi jaati.'' The cup returned to the low table, propelling Meerub for the impending proposition. (A woman came to the panchayat today, and she said that there is no school close to their house.)

Both mother and son peered over their dainty teacups watching their new Khaani flourish in her role, the sparkle in her eye gave away how much she enjoyed mediating, finally valued as his wife.

''To main soch rahi thi ke goan ke southern side pe school banaya jaye, primary school?'' She asked, it seemed like a boardroom meeting, running the idea past them. (I was thinking that a school to be built on the south side of the village?)

Attentively, Murtasim listened to every word with his knees resting upon his other knee, unguarded before the most precious people in his company. After assessing the scale of her suggested resolution, he replied, ''We will see, I'll try to allot some money for it. Par der lagegi,'' he reasoned, taking another hot sip of tea – it was obviously perfect chai as it was watched over by him and his wife, both of their attentions and efforts poured into it – nurtured under their watch. It was a union of their efforts. (It will take time.)

The accounting was set aside by Meerab, when she gave another option, ''The other option is to supply cycles to the kids so they can travel faster.'' The looks of apprehension cast over her features as she waited for their response.

Maa Begum almost choked on the suggestion, realising that Meerab had taken her own spin on problem solving, but then she composed herself, needing to let go of control. ''Jaise tumhein sahi lage Meerab,'' Maa Begum spoke out, not wanting to curtail the breadth of her power. No skill was perfected in a day, the action needing to be proportionate to the issue. (However you deem fit Meerab.)

''Amongst the fields, the ground is unpaved, so cycles are not ideal,'' Murtasim countered, indirectly declining.

She blinked at the reply, weighing up the idea as if roads could not be invested in. ''I thought you were rich,'' she remarked in a smug smile.

The corner of Murtasim's mouth pulled into a pompous smirk at the unfitting taunt and countered, ''Ho jayega. School bhi aur sadak bhi.'' (I will sort it. The roads and the school.)

Witnessing his honed might, the power charged her with a sense of responsibility rather than ego- it was precious, there was a legacy to uphold. She persisted, ''Aur Cycle?''

The tea was gulped down, the warmth feeling like a cosy internal hug, arousing a need for slumber. ''Cycle ke zaroorat nahi padegi agar school nazdeek ho. It'll be safer too,'' Murtasim added, swaying her. (What is the need for motorbikes when the school will be built close by?)

The ideas were being weighed up, a new school would be more sustainable in the long run. ''Tumhein aise sahi lagta hai to aise he karenge. Kitna accha hoga agar zyada bacche padhenge,'' she replied, content with the idea. (if you think that it's best, then we will do it like that. It will be best if as many children as possible can attend school.)

''Yeah Meerab,'' he responded, trying to surpress the pride and gratefulness that bubbled up in his chest at Meerab being so invested in the cause.

Even Maa Begum saw the tug on the apples of his cheeks, the glimmer of hapiness in his eyes- there was a undeniable luster as they acclimatised to a new life. It was hope, the generation paving a new path of teamwork, thinking out the future of their people. ''Acha khayal hai Meerab,'' Maa Begum commented in a sweet melancholic lilt, feeling herself mentally retired from the responsibility. (It's a good idea Meerab.)