Risen from dust

Forty Nine

Noor had become a regular at the Chaudhary house, sharing laughter and stories with Mr. Harris, Sairah, Waliya Aunty, and the ever-charming Arham. Even with Khalifa's mysterious absence casting a subtle worry, the warmth of the family enveloped her.

One morning, a delicious scent wafted through the air, prompting Noor to ask, "What's that amazing smell?"

Arham's face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Aloo paratha. Waliya Daadi makes the best ones."

Noor's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I can't resist amazing parathas. Let's dive into this feast!"

Around the table, the aroma of freshly cooked aloo parathas mingled with laughter and the clinking of utensils. It was a snapshot of the joy Noor found in this surrogate family. However, amid these moments, the unresolved mystery of Khalifa's whereabouts added a touch of bittersweet reality, a reminder that even in the warmth of shared meals, some questions remained unanswered.

Harris found himself captivated by Noor's presence, each gesture and word echoing the spirit of Mariam. It was undeniable – she was a living reflection of his late wife. The longing to keep her close all day tugged at his heart, but he held back, wanting to let her find her place in their family at her own pace.

Observing Noor and Arham together brought him immense joy. Arham's attentiveness towards her didn't escape Harris's notice, sensing a caring side that went beyond what Arham openly expressed.

"Arham! Stop copying me," Noor exclaimed in annoyance.

Arham chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Why? You look so cute when you're annoyed. Acha, I'm sorry. I won't annoy you anymore," he playfully promised, the laughter in his voice revealing a camaraderie that seemed to be growing stronger between them.

Harris couldn't help but smile, witnessing the dynamics forming within the family.

"Okay, Uncle Harris, I have to go now," Noor said, a warmth in her voice as she prepared to leave.

Harris felt a pang of emotion, torn between the desire to embrace her in a heartfelt goodbye, just as she did with Sairah and Waliya, and the knowledge that revealing his identity as her father would be too abrupt at this moment. So, with a smile that masked the depth of his feelings, he responded, "Take care, Noor. Come back soon. We'll miss you."

As she left, he couldn't help but watch her go, a mixture of pride and longing in his gaze, knowing that their connection was a delicate secret waiting for the right time to be unveiled.

As Arham drove Noor back, she radiated beauty in a baby pink kameez adorned with intricate gold thread embroidery, complemented by a chiffon dupatta gracefully draped on her head. Stray strands of her dark hair danced on her face, swayed by the gentle wind that prompted Arham to roll down the car windows, allowing the crisp evening air to fill the car.

"Want to have some soup?" Arham suggested, a casual offer, "it's on the way."

Noor, however, had a destination in mind that tugged at her heart. She knew Zaviyaar would be anxiously waiting for her, unable to find peace until he saw her safe at home.

"No, thank you. I just want to go home," she replied, a soft smile playing on her lips, her thoughts already with the person who was waiting for her, the warmth of familiarity and love calling her back.

Mr. Harris, who usually took Noor home, had entrusted the responsibility to Arham that day. Zaviyaar, as per his routine, eagerly awaited his beloved wife. Concern lingered in his mind, intensified by the elusive threat of Khalifa still at large.

As the evening shadows deepened, Zaviyaar stood on the balcony, a solitary figure, the ember of a cigarette glowing in his hand. His eyes anxiously scanned the road, his thoughts consumed by worries about Noor's safety.