(IT'S GONNA HAVE A LOT OF COUPLES)
In a village, where justice is scarce, a girl of 11 is married off due to a tragic misunderstanding.
Her 17-year-old husband, torn apart by his brother's murder, burdened by duty, becomes her unexpected protector...
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"Bol na halke halke... Bol na halke halkee..." Kamal hummed softly, her voice a gentle melody that blended with the warm and cozy atmosphere of the house. The day brought a rare sense of comfort, a stark contrast to the usual coldness that lingered within these walls. She often found herself thanking God for the turn of events that had brought them to this point. Without them, these men would be lost, rotting in this house, forever dwelling on a painful past. So many things had changed. She wasn't old enough to have experienced it all, but she had borne the brunt of most of it.
Zartaab entered the house quietly, using the spare keys. Facing Kamal was the last thing he wanted to do. He wore a white button-down shirt and beige formal pants, his hair disheveled. He looked nothing like the carefree, jovial person he had been just a few years ago. He had lost so much in a matter of seconds and now sought only solitude. But Allah had different plans for him. His heart, though fortified with walls of cement, was softening. There was someone who saw him as her lifeline, and he hated that... or did he?
He stepped inside and took in the small living room. His eyes landed on Kamal, dressed in a grey suit with her dupatta casually draped over her shoulders. He sighed. Grey wasn't her color; she wasn't meant for such dullness. But unfortunately for her, he could offer her only greys and blues. As she busied herself with the pillows, his eyes were drawn to her earrings. They danced and twinkled, as if enjoying her presence, adding a touch of liveliness to her every movement.
Kamal's focus on the task at hand, her delicate movements, and the way her earrings caught the light filled the room with an unspoken warmth. Zartaab felt a pang of guilt and longing. He had built walls around his heart to keep the pain out, but watching Kamal.......
Her humming ceased, and she glanced up, meeting his eyes. For a moment, the room was silent, heavy with unspoken emotions. Zartaab's gaze softened. He saw not just the girl before him, but a person who had endured, who had found small moments of peace and happiness despite the circumstances.
Kamal offered him a small, tentative smile, one that didn't reach her eyes but held a glimmer of hope. It was a smile that said she understood his pain, his struggle, and was willing to wait for him to come to terms with it.
Zartaab felt a lump in his throat. The desire for loneliness was strong, but the need for connection was stronger.
Shaking his head, Zartaab sighed deeply. This wasn't the life he had envisioned for himself, but he wasn't ready to change its course-at least not now. His thoughts were interrupted by a soft, melodic voice.
"Aap? Aap aaj jaldi kyu aagye?" Kamal asked, her tone tinged with surprise. He looked down at her, his eyes hardening as they met her face. It was always this way; he avoided acknowledging her presence, pretending she didn't exist. He walked away without a word, his silence a deliberate wall. But she called after him, her voice trembling with hope and fear.
"Chai piyengy?" Her gaze remained fixed on the ground, and he felt irritation welling up inside him. He turned back, his steps heavy with frustration, and seethed,
