Warning: This chapter is all emotions, it makes no sense. And this os is a sad one, I had warned you before, and I will warn again.
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As he entered into his room, he saw her in that black dress, her eyes mischievous as she walked towards him. Her beautiful smile gave birth to dimples, and his hands trembled as he brought them towards her. She looked down, and he followed her gaze only to find himself alone in the room. Murtasim brought his hands to his face, covering it with his palm to not let the tears fall.
He went to the bed and lay on her side. When he closed his eyes, he felt her presence. Her eyes on him, he opened them, and there she laid looking at him with the love he had seen in her eyes at Maryam's walimah. The night passed, he fell asleep, when he woke up next the sun was up, but she was gone. He touched the pillow and woke up from his hazy state. Meerab wasn't with him. His instincts took over, and he looked at the mirror table. She revolved in his mind. Wherever he went, it was to look for her. What was his life without her?
"Kaha ho tum Meerab? Kaha ho tum?"
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Razia Begum was one of their old servants, Murtasim Khan grew up in her arms, all his tantrums, and talks Razia was familiar with. When she had suffered from a heart attack at the age of forty, she had to return back to the village.
The servant kissed Salma Khan's knuckle out of respect, "Murtasim kaha hai?"
Maryam, who sat beside Salma, didn't know what to say. Her brother wasn't the same anymore. She had vowed in heart to never return, but when she saw his broken state, she broke her promise. Without Meerab, Murtasim wasn't the same anymore. His eyes were lost, always looking for her. Six months had passed, and he progressively got worse.
Murtasim exited his room and came by the woman's side, who blessed him, "Maine tumharey liye bohot duaein ki beta, bas tum umeed na chorna... sab theek hojayega. Tum jaldise mujhe apne ghar chod aao..."
Murtasim drove through the same streets and, on the way, came across the same house he had gone before to look for her. He could help, but stand there in the middle of the street, and look at the house. As if waiting for her to run out, an hour passed and knocked the door. The old woman from before opened the door, "Beta tum phir aagaye?"
"Ji..."
"Chai peeyogey?" She asked every week he would come over to their house after Meerab left. Ruqaiyah started feeling lonely again, but then this young man started visiting them. Ruqaiyah sympathised with him, she saw the look in his eyes, he was going crazy. As he sat on the sofa, he sighed, "Din raat ussiko dhundta hu, jab aankh band karta hu toh bohot khaufnaak khayal aatey woh zinda bhi hai?"
The tears rolled down his eyes. This man was completely different from the one Ruqiyyah met a few months ago. He was broken, and the attitude from before was gone too.
"Woh yahi thi. Teen mahine pehle tak Meerab yahi thi. Hum tab tumhe nahi jaante they, usse dekh kar lagta tha ki bichari ne bohot gam aur zulm jhelle hai. Pura din sajde mai baithi rehti, kabhi kabhar zameen pe sojaati, bahir bhi nahi jaati thi na kisise milna chahti woh Isliye humne uss din tumse jhoot bola".
"Beta tum jaantey ho woh itni udaas kyun rehti thi?"
He struggled to speak, he had thought of her as his wife, slowly he started to see her as a woman who cared too much, a woman who was scared to admit that she actually accepted him as her husband.
"Kisine uska dil toda hai... yaqeen toda hai. Bewafayi ki hai, dua karein jisne bhi kiya ho usko aisi saza mili ke woh aayenda kisika waada na todey".
"Beta usne jaatey waqt, ek khat chodha tha tumhare liye..."
