Chess & Checkers

18. Masks of Deceit

WARNING: DUBIOUS CONSENT (DUBCON)

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The dawn of a new day washed over the horizon, bringing with it tender rays of hope that painted the sky with the colors of possibility. Meerab felt a stirring within her heart, a blossoming of optimism and an unwavering resolve.

Taking Maryam's heartfelt advice from the previous night, she had almost immediately decided that she would head to the village first thing in the morning and try to mend what was broken. She was uncertain of what she would say once she saw him and seeking Murtasim's forgiveness seemed like a daunting task that weighed on her mind, but she understood that every journey began with a single step. This was hers.

For a change today, she found herself seated in the backseat of her car, letting the driver navigate the bustling streets of Hyderabad instead of driving herself. Her gaze drifted through the window, capturing fleeting glimpses of the vibrant cityscape, but her thoughts were far away. She was absorbed in a whirlwind of emotions—anticipation, anxiety, and a fragile sense of hope. The memories of last night's dinner surfaced, recalling the moment she had shared her plans with Maa Begum and Maryam, their supportive smiles etched in her mind.

As the car weaved through the traffic, Meerab's heart pounded with a mix of apprehension and determination. She knew the road ahead would be challenging, yet, she was resolute in her mission. Before heading to the village, however, there was one more person she needed to see, one more conversation to have that might lend her the courage she sought.

As the car came to a halt outside the familiar wrought iron gate, Meerab draped her chaddar over her head, telling the driver she'd return shortly before stepping out. She quickly greeted Karim, who sat in his usual spot by the gate, and hurried inside, clutching a bouquet of lilies to her chest.

As she approached the grave, a wave of emotion washed over her. The sight of the gravestone, lovingly adorned with a fresh blanket of rose petals, brought a lump to her throat. She placed the bouquet gently against the gravestone and sat down next to it, her deep blue dress spreading around her in a cascade of fabric.

"Hi mama," she whispered, her fingers tracing the delicate petals. Her sigh was heavy, burdened with unspoken words and lingering regrets.

"Aaj mai aap se kuch maangne aayi houn," she began, her voice quivering as she swirled her finger, creating invisible patterns on the petals. "Gaon ja rahi houn, Murtasim ko manane. Agar aap waqai mujhe upar se dekh rahein hain, tou mere liye dua kijiye ga ke mai usse mana loun. Iss baar tou shayad hadd hi kar di mai ne. Boht dil dukhaya hai mai ne uss ka, woh ye sab deserve nahi karta."

Her voice cracked, the weight of her guilt pressing down on her. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She wiped them away hastily, trying to keep her composure.

"Do you know he waited eight years for me? Aath saal guzar diye uss ne mere pyaar mei. Tou phir mai kyun baar baar uss ka dil dukhati houn?" she questioned, her voice breaking as a tear finally escaped, tracing a path down her cheek.

Meerab sniffled, wiping away the tear and taking a deep breath. She straightened her posture, trying to gather the strength she desperately needed. "Lekin ab mai ja rahi houn gaon usse manane. Aap bas dua karein ke woh maan jaye. Aap tou jannat mei hain na, aap ki dua Allah Ta'ala zaroor suneinge," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. She tilted her head back, looking up at the sky, her eyes filled with silent prayers.

"Ya Allah, meri mama ki duaein qubool kar lena please, aur meri bhi," she whispered, her hands raised in prayer, her eyes clenched shut as she poured her heart out to the heavens.