Tere bin shots

The Terrace Scene

My take on how things should have gone in episode 29 considering how Meerab and Murtasim just miraculously appeared to be normal after the whole thing in the next episode.
Hope you enjoy✨

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"Bohot sachi ho na tum, kudho yahan se," Murtasim's voice sliced through the air like shards of glass, stabbing with accusation as he roughly seized Meerab's wrist and propelled her towards the terrace end. The sudden jerk of his tighten grip sent shockwaves of disbelief coursing through her veins, a silent protest echoing in her widened eyes.

In that moment, Meerab felt as though the ground beneath her feet had vanished, leaving her suspended in a surreal nightmare. Surely, this couldn't be happening. Murtasim had to be joking right?

But as she turned to face him, her gaze collided with his, the darkness in his eyes mirroring the storm raging within her soul. There was no trace of mirth in his expression, only a chilling resolve that sent shivers down her spine.

"Tum mazak kar rahe ho na?" she managed to whisper, her voice trembling with a fragile hope, desperate for reassurance in the face of such betrayal. Yet, Murtasim's features remained as unyielding as stone, his silence a damning verdict to her plea.

The weight of his mistrust pressed down upon her like a leaden cloak, suffocating her with its suffocating embrace. How could he doubt her like this? How could he stand there, blind to the truth that lay bare in the depths of her eyes?

"Nahi," he finally replied, his voice devoid of his usual warmth, each syllable laced with a venomous certainty that pierced through the cool air. "Mujhe aise hi yakeen aaye ga ke tum khud Rohail se milne nahi gayi thi."

As Murtasim's words hung in the air, laden with suspicion and disbelief, Meerab felt a wave of defiance rising within her. How dare he question her integrity, her honor? How could he not believe anything that she was saying in her defense!?

"Aur agar yeh nahi karsakti, toh wada karo ke tum Rohail se kabhi nahi milo gi, Meerab," he demanded, his voice dripping with the weight of authority, each syllable hammering down like an iron fist upon the fragile fabric of her resolve. His words were not just a mere request; they were a command, a decree meant to bend her will to his and strip her of her autonomy.

As his ultimatum hung in the air like a dark cloud, Meerab felt a surge of indignation rising within her. Had he approached her with understanding, with empathy, perhaps she would have been more inclined to listen. But this? This was manipulation at its most insidious, a calculated tactic designed to twist her arm and force her into submission.

It was as though Murtasim sought to reduce her to nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game of control just like everyone else had. Everyone had stripped her of her freedom, her choices, her wishes. They wanted mold her into the obedient woman that they believed she should be. And they had succeeded. She was trapped, trapped in a confined cage where she couldn't even breathe properly.

It was always "obey what is said or else you would suffer the consequences," a harsh truth that lurked behind the facade of their false sweetness. From the moment she turned twenty-two, Meerab had been indoctrinated into the suffocating norms of the Khan haveli, forced to suppress her own desires and conform to the submissive mold that they demanded of her. Whether it was Maa Begum, her biological father, or her foster parents, they all expected the same obedience, the same compliance.

Yet, amidst this sea of oppression, Meerab had wondered if Murtasim was any different. When he uttered the words "Tum mere ghar chalo," it felt like she had found an anchor in the tempest of her life. The warmth of his gaze, the solace in his comforting words, and his unwavering support despite her flaws had convinced Meerab that maybe, just maybe, Murtasim was the exception to the rule.