،آئے تو یوں جیسے ہمیشہ سے تھے مہربان
بھولے تو یوں جیسے گویا کبھی آشنانہ تھے۔
Aye to yun jaise hamesha se the meherban,
Bhoole to yun ke jaise goya kabhi ashna na the.
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Emaaz stood at the threshold of Mehman Khana, a seperate building of palace at the right side corner of it. A two storey house that hosted guests at the lower level with diwan khana and game rooms as well as their meeting rooms. On the upper level any male relatives that weren't close family resided when visiting.
He didn't get time to reflect on anything that happened today until now. He was busy dealing the guests the moment he entered the palace. He was now waiting for his special guests Yaman and Haim at the entrance of Mehman Khana as his thoughts drifted back to the unconscious body of Layla that he left at the bed of his room. On his bed, she was sprawled lashiviously, her body captivating and enthralling. She was still wrapped in his black shawl and her tiny fists wrapped around a corner of it.
It was Mumaz Begum's order to take her there to which he had to oblige infront of two hundred women. As if he could say no to that women anyway. People were waiting for a slight disagreement from him. People knew a version of the story, some people didn't.
Most people thought that Layla left for studies. Others thought he didn't bear her presence hence she was sent away as she once didn't come back to Pakistan in the last six years.
His thoughts were interrupted as soon as a convey rolled up in front of his house. He welcomed his friends into the living room and introduced them to the rest of his family. As if they needed an introduction but today he played the host. They made their condolences to each member of his family and later accompanied him to visit Hashim Durrani at the hospital.
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Layla found herself opening her eyes to a dome of a ceieling with handcrafted intricate details. She jumped up in a sitting position and her head spun. Her heart sank, what was she doing in this room. As if the bed burned her she got down from there and with heart hammering in her chest looked at the once familiar room.
Emaaz Durrani's bedroom.
She was on his bed, in his room. So that's what calling her Mrs. Durrani throughout the journey meant. She felt as if gasping for hair. Million thoughts runing in her head. She was understanding the situation more and more she thought, more her body broke in cold sweat.
"Oh ya Allah..." She uttered remembering the severity of the situation.
Emaaz was angry with her. No scratch that he was scorching angry with her. Fiercely, madeningly, severely angry with her. She knew she brought his wrath upon herself but she was not a confrontational person. Plus she was similar to a scared little mouse, she didn't have guts to face him. Not then and not now. He always treated her with delicacy and politeness. Not him but everyone else pampered her only. She didn't know how to deal with this side of his. She wasn't ready. But will she ever be?
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Emaaz: 25
Layla: 19
After not talking to anyone for a year and settling in with Hashim sahab's family into Bolton. Her heart gave in as she shared her university's acceptance with Bee Maa. There on the first call it was all tears and consolations and heart ache. On the second call for the first time in her life Bee Maa opened all her fury on him.
