𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

11

Airah POV:

I wake up to find a hot pack on my stomach. I remember I asked Arsalan to bring me this. The room is covered in darkness. My god I slept a lot. I lay there only not having much strength to go out or turn the lights on. A while later I hear the door open. Someone comes in and puts tray on the bedside table. Whoever it is they turn on the bedside lamp. I look to find Iqra.

"You're awake. Alhumdullilah." She say and sits on the chair besides the bed. "Kaisa feel ho raha hai?" (How are you feeling?) She asks pouring water from the jug. "Behter" I say in a low voice. "Chalo achi baat hai. Would you like to eat something? You must be hungry." (Well, than its good.) I feel very hungry. Maybe I should eat something. I nod and she helps me sit up. "Arsalan kaha hai?" (Where is Arsalan?) I ask taking a sip from the glass of water. "Some of his friends came so he and Yasir are having dinner with them downstairs." She answers. How cold. He didn't even bother coming up to check on me. But why am I expecting something like that from him? She offers me the tray of food. "What's this?" I ask. "Porridge hai. Arsalan bhai asked me to make you eat this." She replies. Why does everyone in the house listen to him?

"Should I feed you?" She asks in a concerned voice. A laugh escapes me as I shake my head. She smiles and holds my hand. "Look what you have done to yourself. Your eyes are red because of crying..... wo itne precious tears deserve nahi karta Airah. (He
doesn't deserve such precious tears, Airah.) I heard from Arsalan bhai that he ran away with a girl or whatever. He is happy but look at you. You're still crying over him. You should be the happiest girl in the whole world. You got a husband who is hundred times better than Aasim. I know you hate him. But his personality is very good. You should have seen his face when you passed out. How worried he was." I bet he was not. Why would he be worried about me? Look at him, he's having fun with his friends downstairs while I'm here, sick, not even able to sit properly. She squeezes my hand and says, "Days will pass, and you will abandon things you liked, and leave someone, and finally accept the reality. Because that's how life is lived and our soul knows it but our mind and heart don't want to accept it." She's looking at me but I keep staring down. She's right but I don't want to accept it.

Her voice  is low as she says,"If you open your eyes to reality, then Allah will open the eyes of your heart to see amazing things even in small things." When I remain silent she asks, "Do you really love him?" I nod slowly. "How much do you love him?" She asks again. I stay quite for a moment. "My love for him is as big as the universe. More than you can imagine." The words barely passing my lips. "If you can love the wrong person that much, imagine how much you can love the right one." She says. "What if Arsalan bhai is the one allah has written for you?" Again this time I stay quite. She comes forward and hugs me. "Moving on from someone must be hard. But I know you can do this. Move on from him and this time live for yourself." A tear slides down my cheeks and I close my eyes tightly. It's true. Moving on from someone you loved for 4 years is hard.

She pats my back and says, "Come on start eating and stop crying." She pulls me away from hug and sits on the chair. I slowly start eating the porridge. It's good. Hearing my thoughts she asks, "Kaisa hai?" (How is it?)

"Bahut acha hai." (Very good.) I answer. She grins. "Kya hua?" (What happened?)

"Nahi kuch nahi." (No, nothing) She says her grin growing wider.

"Hiba aur Talbiya kaha hai?" (Where is Hiba and talbiya?) I ask.

"Hiba Ziya ke saath bahar gayi hui hai. She was saying that she needs to buy some earrings for tomorrow's walima." (Hiba has gone out with ziya.) Shoot! I totally forgot that tommorrow is our walima.

"Talbiya shayad bahar lawn mein hai. Tariq bhi usi ke saath hoga I guess." (Talbiya is probably out in the lawn and tariq must with her, I guess.) She says. A while later I finish my food and Iqra takes the tray back telling me to call her if I need something. I look at myself in the mirror as I wash my hands. My hair are totally out of place. I start combing them after washing my hands. By the time I'm out of the bathroom I find Arsalan closing the door behind him as he enters the room. He's wearing a dark blue shirt, some of his buttons are undone, which is tugged in his khaki coloured pants with Chelsea boots and a different watch on his hand along with a silver ring on his pinky finger. He looks very tall. His black hair messily falling on his forehead. He looks breathtakingly handsome. He hangs his jacket on the coat rack and starts taking off his boots. I look at the clock. 12:30.

"Kaha the itni der se?" (Where were you for so long?) I ask with hands on my hips. He looks up at me. "Kuch nahi bas dinner karke bahar dosto ke saath chale gaya tha." (Nothing, just had dinner and went out with some friends.) He replies turning his attention back to his boots. "Sharam nahi aati tumhe?" (Don't you feel ashamed?)

"Kis baat se?" (Of what?) He says as he stands up and enters his dressing room. Feeling my blood beginning to boil I follow behind him. "That your wife is on the bed, sick, and you're having fun with your friends."

He glance at me for a second then turn his attention back to his watch. "Well you were sick and that doesn't mean that I can't have fun." How is his behaviour so cold? Just today morning he was all nice with me but now? He seems kinda different. "So you're saying that me being sick doesn't stop you from having fun?" I ask in disbelief. "Ofcourse." He replies. "You know what Ahmed?". "What?" He asks. "You're being a total jerk right now." Saying that I exit the dressing room.

"Well I am and I always have been. You're the one who realized it too late."