Ittefaq Say (MeeraSim FF)

37 - Jaaneman

Bakthu rushed out the car, onto the elite residential road of Islamabad, commanding at the tall iron doors, ''Darwaza kholo.'' The rest of the men exited without pause, the scene flushing with a buzz, gearing up for action at Meerab's doorstep. (Open the gates.)

''Kaun aaya hai,'' someone modestly asked from the other side, a security guard. (Who has come?)

Stepping forward to the gates, the crushed cigarette was thrown in inflamed anger. Murtasim's voice deepened when he bellowed louder than he ever had before, ''Khan Murtasim Shahnawaz Khan aaya hai. Gate kholo!''

With defiance, Hafeez jolted forward, hand lurching to hold Murtasim back from making a mistake as he met his wife's family for the first time. The sun judged him harshly, burning the exposed skin between his nape and collar. An inferno burned within his heart at the unjust nabbing.

Murtasim felt every finger restrain at his elbow, holding him back from reclaiming what was rightfully his. ''Ab kyun rokh rahe ho?'' (Why are you stopping me?)

''Murtasim, thande dimaag se socho,'' Hafeez pleaded in warning until Murtasim turned back to look at him. (Cool down and think first.)

Face to face at Meerab's doorstep, beyond the barrier of the iron gates and massive garden, they held a brief conference. ''Soch raha hou, issi liye tiu yahan tak pauncha hou.'' Murtasim was manifestly hurt, it was etched into the lines of his face, wrath emanating his being. His hands were clenched into tight fists, a clear mission in mind. (I have thought it through, hence why i'm here.)

At the unusual stoic, numb version of Murtssim, Hafeez shook his head, coming to diligently advise. ''Woh aadmi jaise bhe hai, Meerab ka baap hai aur woh bhaage the.'' Meerab haden't been thrown out, there was a different sort of opression at play. ''Uske taraf se haq tha Meerab to ghar laane mei, tou tum bhe ehtiyaad se qadam lena hai.'' His eyes were soft amber and guiding like an older brother, barley the silhouette of the mischievous friend at the wedding. (That man, however bad, is her father and she was a runaway bride. From his perspective, he had a right to bring Meerab back home, so you need to tread carefully.)

Murtasim scoffed, eyebrows knitting together at the absurd suggestion. ''Ehtiyaad? Cheene gye the mujhse. Waapis laane ja raha hou, haq hai mera,'' Murtasim directed his protest at Hafeez, feeling hurt at her being burgled in broad daylight, every promises with Meerab shattered into worthlessness. (Careful? She was stolen from me. I am only getting her back, that's my right.)

When he found Meerab on the train, she was free and alone.

Now, her parents had a right over her too, wanting to encage her again.

''Sasur hai tumhara, aur woh bhe aik supreme court judge. Issi larki se shaadi ke hai, tou uska baap ko bhe izzat dena pareyga, no matter what you really feel, kush rakhna pareyga aik damaad ke jaise — nahi tou ghalat impression baneyga.'' Hafeez sketched out reality between them; regardless of the strength and power harboured in Hyderabad, they were about to enter Waqas's grounds where his word was supreme, not Murtasim's. (He is your father in law, and that too, a judge. You married that girl so now you need to respect her father, to keep him happy as a son-in-law — or else he will misunderstand you.)

First, the idea of anyone holding her captive was infuriating, wanting to scathe and pillage her out.

Them the title struck like an electrifying thunderbolt: Damaad.