I'm sure you've heard a lot about unrequited love, but what if I say there exists an unwilling love, hidden somewhere between the echoes of silence and the whispers of the heart's secrets? A love that fights to stay buried, yet yearns to be discover...
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๑ 🥀 ๑
She emerges from her room, drawn by the sound of her stepmother's voice raised in a heated exchange which I'd directed towards a servant. With a furrowed brow she follows the noise cautiously her steps barely make a sound on the plush carpeted floor of the hallway.
As she nears the dining area the voices become clearer and she catches sight of her stepmother, Farzana Tahir, fuming at a young servant girl.
"You are not supposed to disturb her! Do you understand? You will suffer grave consequences the next time I see you acting on your own. I am the boss here, and you have to follow my orders!" Farzana's tone is stern and commanding, and her expression conveys authority and displeasure.
The servant girl who might be around Zumar's age or perhaps a year or two younger stands with folded arms and a bowed head, clearly intimidated by Farzana's reprimand.
"What's going on, Mom?" Zumar asks as she enters the dining room, taking a seat at the elegant wooden table adorned with fresh fruit and untouched cutlery.
"Oh, sweetheart," Farzana responds, her demeanour shifting to sweetness of honey as she approaches Zumar.
She is dressed in a luxurious saree, adorned with expensive jewellery rings on each finger and a massive necklace with jasper stones that match her saree perfectly. Her figure is slim and graceful, her face meticulously made up, contrasting sharply with Zumar's casual attire of a baggy shirt and trousers, and she feels ashamed to be dressed that way.
Farzana dismisses the servant girl, whose name Zumar doesn't know with a subtle wave of her hand before plastering a sweet smile on her perfectly painted rosy red lips. She takes the chair beside Zumar...her presence was commanding attention.
"Did you have a disturbed sleep, my dear?" Farzana asks with her tone softening as another maid pours a cup of tea from the delicate porcelain set with gold lining on the table for her. "These servants need to learn their place. I've told them countless times not to disturb you. Perhaps I need to resort to harsh measures for them to understand."
"There's no need for that, Mom," Zumar quickly intervenes, noticing the trembling hands of the maid who pours tea into Farzana's cup, she says while offering a small reassuring smile to the maid, who visibly relaxes at Zumar's words.
"Who do we have here?", Abd al-Razzakh. Zumars father, descends the stairs in a three-piece stiff grey suit, adjusting his maroon tie as he approaches the dining table. "Oh, Zumar? What a surprise to see you here at the breakfast table," he remarks with a warm smile.
Zumar returns the smile but before she can respond, Farzana rises from her chair to accommodate her husband's presence.
"Yes, she's here. It's lovely for us to have breakfast together as a family," Farzana chimes in with her voice delicately filled with warmth.
