He picked his phone and car keys and stormed out of the house. His father regretted nothing. His father not only did not regret his actions but in fact defended them. He was proud of his crimes; his sins, and that made Maher physically sick. He got into his car and drove aimlessly around the city. After around an hour, he called Umair.
"Assalamoalaikum," Umair greeted him as he picked up the call in an instant.
Maher needed to hear a familiar voice to unburden himself and he broke down.
"Maher?" Umair called him, concern evident in his voice.
"I need to meet you," Maher finally spoke. He was ready to talk to Umair about everything. He needed to get this off his chest before he got buried beneath the weight of it.
"Text me your location, I'll meet you there," Umair replied, already at the door of his apartment, grabbing his keys from the key holder. He felt his phone vibrate and checked the notification to find Maher's location.
"I'll be there in 10," he told him before they hung up.
The shared location was of a park; one that Maher and Umair spent their childhood playing in. They played soccer here as teenagers. Umair entered the park through the ginormous gates and scanned the place for Maher. He spotted him sitting under the gazebo in the middle of park. The back of his head rested against the brick pillar of the gazebo. His left leg was propped up and his left hand rested on top of his knee. As Umair got closer, he realized the smoke. Maher was holding a cigarette in his right hand and he was smoking sitting under a "No Smoking" sign. Umair walked up to him and snatched the cigarette from his hand. He rubbed it on the ground, putting it off.
"Did you see your doctor?" Umair sternly asked.
Maher looked up to look at him and averted his eyes signaling what his response was.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, MAYBE this habit of yours is related to your health issues?" Umair's voice had turned from angry to worried.
Maher heard him but his mind was wandering somewhere else. His attention shifted back to Umair when he heard his name. "Maher?" Umair called out.
"I am going to marry her," Maher blurted out and Umair looked at him, puzzled.
"Who?" He asked.
"The girl whose life I helped papa destroy," Maher replied, his gaze at the ground, fixed at the cigarette that he was smoking a few moments ago.
"Buddy, I'm not following," Umair said and sat at the stairs of the gazebo. Maher looked at him. Umair knew his father was many things but murderer was not one of them. Maher never spoke about this to him.
"Saman is... she's Chanda. She's also the girl whose parents were murdered by my father," Maher's felt an unexplained wave of shiver run through his body. He wasn't sure if it was anger or hurt or guilt or a bit of everything. All he knew was that it felt unpleasant; absolutely crushing. "That assassination attempt against me a few years ago was a cover up. My father planted a bomb in my car and had me offer my car to his accountant, Saman's father. He told me the family needed a car because theirs broke down. He told me to lend them my car. They were headed to a family function, Umair. Saman's parents died, her brother lost his ability to walk. He lost his fiancee... Umair, my father said Saman was supposed to be in that car that day and his only regret is that she wasn't," Maher's voice broke and dropped his head, unable to say anything else.
Umair quietly listened to everything Maher said. It wasn't a few minutes later that stood up, as if his brain had just processed the information it received.
"It's papa we're talking about and I know even then it's a lot to take in... it's been killing me, Umair. I've been bottling up my feelings for so long. I haven't had a peaceful nights sleep in three years! I have nightmares. I'm seeing a therapist. I was in terrible shape as is but I had a penpal that I talked to at the end of the day and I vented to her and it really helped. It helped more than seeing my therapist did. Pyaar hogaya tha mujhe usse and then like a truck driving at a hundred miles per hour, the truth came. I found out that she is Saman. Jo insaan meri zindagi mein sirf khushiyan laati hai, main uski zindagi ki barbaadi mein shaamil tha," Maher felt like he had bared his soul, emptied out his chest. He had nothing else to say.
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YOU ARE READING
Madawa
RomanceTwo strangers brought together by fate... or trauma, or a bit of both.