Ishq | (complete)

1.1 - Rapunzel and her Knight in Broken Armor

❝ Tu hai to darr nahi lagta
Tu hai toh gham na aate hai
Tu hai toh muskurate hai❞

Even with the curtains drawn and the windows closed, Laila still couldn't escape the tiredness and chaos. In times like these, she missed the penthouse. The place she could hide in. A tower that protected her from the world. A part of her craved to be away from people, hide, and be with her family in stillness and peace. Lately, her life had been like that, torn between dilemmas, and often, at the end of those dilemmas, she found herself on the back of lost opportunities. Paradoxes weighed heavily on her bones. Missing that home or making a new one here, being a mother or a working woman, even fighting the battle of being the wife she once was or being a mother.

These unspoken responsibilities cast shadows in her amber eyes, filling them with faded sorrows, even though she repeated to herself often that she didn't conform to society's expectations. The weight of all these roles and the recent loss of the project pressed heavily on her heart as she lay back on the bed as soon as she entered their bedroom. Putting her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes. Dark circles whispered across her face, far too prominent on her pale skin. The once auburn hair that cascaded beautifully down her back in a ponytail was now a knotted mass against the white pillow - proof of her taxing day.

"Am-ma," a small, pudgy hand landed softly on her cheek, trying to wake her up. A faded smile nestled on her lips. "Am-ma." The voice tried to push through the haze, but her eyes struggled to stay open.

"Azlani, Amma is tired, bubba." Even though her bones screamed in exhaustion, she put her hand in the mop of his brown hair as the sleep, like an unwelcomed visitor yet a much-needed one, settled upon her. Even Azlan's broken words couldn't keep her awake.

As soon as he parked the car, his eyes caught the excited little human in Malka's arms, albeit covered in dirt. Apparently, Azlan had decided to garden with Malka today. The moment Shehryar stepped out of his car, Azlan waddled towards him in tiny steps.

"Boo," He raised his arms the second he was within Shehryar's arms. Amber eyes, like his mother, sparkled in the golden hour with excitement and pure joy. Shehryar Ali still couldn't believe he would see his child growing up. That someday, his heart would be so full of love that it would heal his soul. That Azlan's existence would only make it easier to remember Wajdan. "Boo!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, little man, that it is Abbu, AB-Bu, not Boo." He picked up Azlan, and the little one giggled at his words.

"Boo!" Azlan wrapped his arms around his father's neck, leaving dirty imprints all over Shehryar's white kameez. His Laila was going to skin him alive for making white clothes dirty again, but there was always that hint of happiness. Because these weren't just dirty imprints; these were the memories they all would cherish for the rest of their lives.

"Your Amma is going to send me to time out for letting you do this." He nuzzled his nose into Azlan's neck, and the little one broke into a fit of laughter. "Malka, you better hide the evidence of him ever venturing into the garden before your ladli arrives from work, or both of us will be eating Mirchi ka salan." Shehryar walked towards Malka as Azlan started playing with his father's hair.

"She's already here," Malka said as she washed her hands in the outdoor sink.

"What?" Shehryar furrowed his eyebrow. "But the car is not here?"

"The driver went for Jummah after dropping her off. I didn't even know she was here until Azlan started yelling Amma. I was in the kitchen. I think she might be sick or something."