ll Ghuroor Ke Badal غرور کے بادل ll

4. **Chapter Four**

Ahmed Sahab had spent a long, exhausting day behind the wheel. It was now late at night, and the roads were quieter, the city of Islamabad slowly slipping into slumber. The last client had booked his taxi for a trip to Gujar Khan, and the long drive had taken a toll on him. As he made his way back to Islamabad, the familiar skyline appeared in the distance, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. The sun had set hours ago, leaving the sky a deep indigo, with stars faintly twinkling above.

The hum of the engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires on the asphalt were almost soothing, a stark contrast to the bustling chaos of the day. The roads were mostly empty, with only the occasional vehicle passing by. Ahmed Sahab's thoughts drifted to home, where he knew his family would be waiting for him. His daughters, always eager to greet him, and his wife, Mehrunnisa, with her comforting presence. He imagined the warmth of the home, the smell of dinner, and the sound of laughter that would greet him as soon as he walked through the door.

As he drove, his phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. The screen lit up with Meherbano's name, his eldest daughter. Smiling, Ahmed Sahab answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he said, his voice gentle but tired.

"Baba, where are you? It's so late!" Meherbano's voice came through the line, laced with concern.

Ahmed Sahab chuckled softly, touched by her worry. "Beta, I'm on my way. Just finished dropping off my last client. I'll be home soon, don't worry."

"But Baba, it's so late, and the roads are empty. Please drive carefully," she urged, her voice softening with a hint of anxiety.

"I will, Meher. You know your Baba is always careful," he reassured her. "I'll be home before you know it. You girls don't need to wait up for me, okay?"

"Alright, Baba. Just be safe. We'll see you soon."

"See you soon, beta," Ahmed Sahab replied, smiling as he ended the call.

He placed the phone back in the holder and refocused on the road. The city lights were now closer, the familiar streets of Islamabad welcoming him back. He looked forward to the quiet night that awaited him at home, the comfort of his bed, and the peace of being surrounded by his loved ones.

But as he continued driving, a strange feeling began to settle in his chest-an unease that he couldn't quite place. Shaking it off, he dismissed it as the fatigue of the day.

As he approached a deserted stretch of road on the outskirts of the city, his headlights cutting through the darkness, he suddenly noticed something in his rearview mirror. A set of headlights-bright, fast, and growing closer by the second. Ahmed Sahab instinctively checked his speed, but before he could react, several cars zoomed past him at an alarming speed.

The roar of their engines filled the night, breaking the silence with a deafening rush. The cars, sleek and powerful, tore through the road as if in a race, each one trying to outpace the other. They weaved through the lanes recklessly, their movements a blur of speed and flashing lights.

Ahmed Sahab's heart began to race. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He had seen drivers like this before-young men in expensive cars, reckless and oblivious to the dangers of the road. He slowed down, hoping they would pass him by without incident.

But fate had other plans.

As one of the cars-Rohan's car-sped toward him, something went horribly wrong. Whether it was a misjudgment or a loss of control, the car suddenly swerved, its tires screeching against the asphalt. In a terrifying instant, Rohan's car veered sharply into Ahmed Sahab's lane.