22 Qadam Continued

2. A New Beginning

They had celebrated to their hearts' content after winning the Azaadi Cup, but this time, on beating the A-team, the victory was mellowed out. They all knew that it wasn't really their victory, it belonged to Fari and Liza. The excitement and buzz were still there but mixed into relief and gratefulness, sobered out with the recent death of Fari and Ambreen's father.

As the girls returned home on their bus, all Fari replayed in the privacy of her mind was the way Junaid stood on his own and the look of expectation he shared with her. All she had craved through those months of silent waiting and stealing glimpses in the park was forgiveness, for her soul to be unburdened of suffocating guilt. But it looked like something more valuable had been uncovered between them, tempered and resilient, namely a soft spot for her in Junaid's heart.

She only snapped out of it on reaching home, passing the threshold of their iron gates that had begun to rust over. ''Mama,'' Ambreen called out on seeing the lights still on in the veranda, casting a golden light over the few pieces of laid-out furniture.

The call made their mother walk out, scanning their hands and faces for signs of success, of her daughters achieving what they set out to do. ''Thakke hue ho? Chai banau?'' She asked affectionately.

The girls slowed, dropping their belongings to the ground. It was past midnight, they were completely exhausted. ''Poochou gye nahi?'' Amber tested her mother curiosity, all three desperately needing optimism after the whirlwind that had passed through their home and mercilessly stole their father.

A small, naive part of Fari expected a scolding or to be shrugged off like her mother's usual reply to her antics. Their cat-and-mouse chase of ripping off and taping up Lala's poster on her walls was long over. But she underestimated the empathy that unbridled grief evoked. Now all her mother wanted was the lively Fari back, her bickering now endearingly missed.

''Tumhari manager Karayana keh rahe the ke A-team bahut oonche level ke player hain. Haare ho tou koi baat nahi.'' Their mother replied sensitively upon the stoic state of Fari on leaving the house. She was dazed now too, but it had lessened now, thankfully.

Amber chuckled, livening the scene up. They slouched onto the woven chaarpai, correcting her pridefully, ''Mama, aapki betiyan haar maane wale mei se nahi hain.''

''Malum hai. Haare ho tou haar mat maan na; tumhare baba yehi kehta agar yaha hota, haina?''

The advice, although not the first time she heard it, resonated so hard that Fari sighed audibly, realising the indelible impact of their loving father would make it difficult to live on. With a sniffle, Fari approached her mother and outstretched her arms. ''Nahi, hum jeet kar aaye hai.''

''Fari jeet ke aaye hai,'' Amber announced teary-eyed, watching their overdue embrace.

It was so unexpected for their mother that she almost stumbled backwards. But she needed the tender affection more than she let on, hugging tightly onto the vestiges of Fari that life had chiselled the childishness out of.

It was the first hug between Fari and her mother since their father had left. It did little to mend his absence, but the little comfort it provided was soothing beyond belief.

''Fari, tum jeete ho?'' Khalida asked with disbelief.

''Baba ne kaha tha ke mein kehlou, issi liye...'' Fari whimpered over her mother's shoulder, finger digging into her scarf that she now wished to hide within.

For the first time, Fari was met with absolutely no objections.

Khalida pulled away, cupping her face and finding her daughter utterly broken, spirit shattered; the win was dedicated to the wishes of her late father, trying but failing to undo the heartbreak that darkened her life with a cloud overhead.