The grandeur of the Khan Haveli contrasted sharply with the turmoil in Murtasim Khan's heart. Today was the day he was set to marry Haya, a union arranged by his family to secure alliances and honour. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, suffocating him in a loveless commitment. Yet, in the midst of the festivities, his mind was consumed by memories of another—Meerab, lost to him two agonizing years ago. As the ceremony unfolded, Murtasim's eyes betrayed the storm within. The vibrant colours of celebration seemed dull and lifeless compared to the vivid hues of his memories with Meerab. Her laughter echoed in his mind, her smile haunting his every thought. The weight of the ring on his finger felt heavier, a constant reminder of the choice he was about to make.
"Murtasim," her voice echoed.
Unable to bear the internal conflict any longer, Murtasim excused himself from the festivities. The empty corridors of the Haveli echoed his footsteps, a lonely soundtrack to his inner turmoil. He found solace in his secluded room, his refuge from the facade of happiness that surrounded him. Murtasim's hands trembled as he clutched a small locket containing a picture of Meerab. He sank to his knees, the weight of his emotions threatening to crush him. The image of Meerab's face, her radiant smile etched in his mind, tormented him. His heart ached with the void left by her absence.
"Mein tumhari teraf qadam kese barhaun Murtasim, har dafa tum mujhe ghalat sabit kerdete ho" her words echoed
"Maaf kerdo Meerab.."
"Mujhse itni mohabbat kerte ho ke mere liye apni jaan dedo?" He remembered. He had said no that day, but today, he only wanted to say yes to everything she had said.
"Haan...haan hai. Itni mohabbat hai ke mar jana bhi qubool hai.."
The room, now a silent witness to Murtasim's despair, held an air of tragic inevitability. His gaze fell upon a polished wooden table, and beside it lay a gleaming firearm—a manifestation of his desperation, a desperate plea to escape the entanglements of a loveless life.
Murtasim reached for the gun, his fingers tracing the cold metal as if seeking solace. His mind was the tempest of conflicting emotions, torn between duty and the relentless pull of Meerab's memory. As he brought the gun closer to his chest, his trembling hands betrayed the fragility of his resolve.
Saba tapped her foot impatiently outside Meerab's room, the urgency palpable in her demeanour. "Meerab, come on! We need to reach haveli, and we're already running late!" she called out, a mix of excitement and impatience in her voice. Meerab emerged from the room, her eyes alight with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. In her arms, she cradled Little Meesam, whose innocent gaze mirrored the depth of her father's eyes. The child's presence served as a constant reminder of the love she had lost two years ago.
"I'm coming, Saba," Meerab replied, her voice tinged with a hint of anxiety. As they made their way to the car, the weight of the reunion hung in the air. Little Meesam, unaware of the emotional turbulence surrounding her, giggled and reached out towards Meerab's face.
The journey to the Haveli was a blend of excitement and trepidation. Meerab couldn't shake the butterflies in her stomach, knowing that she was about to face the man she had loved and lost. Little Meesam's laughter provided a bittersweet soundtrack to the journey, a poignant reminder of the family that could have been.
Closing his eyes, Murtasim allowed the floodgates of memories to open. Meerab's voice echoed in his mind, each "Murtasim" a bittersweet melody that reverberated through his soul. He envisioned her laughter, her anger, and the warmth of her presence. The gun, now an extension of his despair, became a conduit for the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume him.
