𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐫𝐚𝐭 - 𝐄 - 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 : 𝟏𝟐💫

Hashim's mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts as he reached his room. He locked the door behind him, paced for a moment, and then sat on his bed, burying his face in his hands. The stress from work was mounting, and he felt a sense of helplessness creeping in.

Just then, his phone rang, indicating someone was calling him. He picked it up and saw it was his best friend, Murad, who was currently out of the country on business.

He answered the call and brought the phone to his ear, only to be greeted by a screeching sound on the other end. Grimacing, he held the phone slightly away from his ear.

"Haa bol," Hashim said in an irritated tone.

"Na salaam, na dua. Kyu itne ukhde mizaz hai aapke, Hashim miyan?" Murad's familiar voice teased him.

"Yaar, kaam hai. Woh bol, pareshan na kar. Waise hi headache hone laga hai."

"Kya hua hai? Kyu itna tense sound kar raha hai?" Murad's concern was evident in his voice.

"Kuch nahi hua hai, bas office ka thoda tension hai," Hashim replied, trying to downplay his stress.

"Thik hai, mai kal aata hu phir tera tension dure karte hai," Murad offered him to listen all his worries once he land in the country.

Hashim sighed, an replied with his usual cold tone . "Thik hai. Allah Hafiz."

"Allah Hafiz, bhai. Take care," Murad said before ending the call.

Hashim put his phone down and leaned back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He appreciated Murad's concern but couldn't shake off the heavy weight on his chest. He replayed the events of the day in his mind when his family proposed the idea of him getting married to Maher when his heart is not ready for it . Atleast not now and all these things adding to his growing anxiety.

He got up again and walked over to the balcony looking out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. The night was calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to find some peace in the quiet moment. Trying to escape from the thoughts of the girl whom he only met once .

He was about to open his laptop, the familiar hum of the machine promising a distraction from his thoughts, but a knock on the door interrupted him. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples as he walked toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, the knocking came again, more insistent this time.

"Aree yaar, aa raha hoon, itni kya jaldi hai," he grumbled, opening the door with an annoyed expression. His irritation quickly turned to surprise and then resignation when he saw who stood there. The last person he wanted to see at this moment: Meher.

"Meher, what are you doing here?" he asked, unable to keep the edge from his voice.

"Vo, Khala ne call kiya tha Papa ko. Riza Appi ki shadi ki date fix ho rahi hai toh hamari bhi saath hi mein kar lenge," Meher replied, her tone cheerful and oblivious to his mood.

"Oh, I see... okay then," Hashim muttered, trying to mask his discomfort.

"Aaj andar nahi bulaoge, Hashim?" Meher asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, haan. Come inside," he said, stepping aside to let her in.

They both walked into his room. Hashim gestured toward the couch, but Meher ignored him and made herself comfortable on his bed. Hashim felt a flash of irritation; he disliked anyone sitting on his bed, but he held his tongue.

"I think we have to change your room theme," Meher said, looking around critically.

"Why? What's the problem with it? I like this theme. I don't like those bright themes; they're way too bright for my eyes," Hashim replied, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.