Murtasim stood frozen at the door, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he watched Meerab lying on the hospital bed. The subtle rise and fall of her chest was a stark contrast to the tempest of emotions swirling within him. Sedated and calm, Meerab looked almost ethereal, her delicate features softened by the haze of medication. The sight of her vulnerability pierced through his already fractured soul, and he pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the door, taking a shuddering breath.
Suddenly, the hurried footsteps of his sister, Mariyam, jolted him out of his despair. "Bhai! Bhai!" Her voice was a mixture of urgency and fear as she burst onto the scene, her husband, Naurez, trailing closely behind.
“Mariyam...” he murmured, but he couldn't find the strength to say anything further. Not with the weight of his actions suffocating him.
She came to him, her expression shifting from desperation to confusion as she surveyed his face. What happened? The question hung heavy in the air, an unspoken bond of worry that tied them together.
Naurez, ever the composed one, stepped forward, his voice steady even as concern seeped through. "Murtasim Bhai, I went to your house today. They told me Meerab bhabhi was rushed to the hospital. What happened? How is she?"
Their words felt like daggers, piercing through the self-inflicted fog of guilt that obscured Murtasim's mind. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, the soft sobs of Mariyam's mother, Maa Begum, filled the hallway. She rushed in, her eyes overflowing with tears as she locked eyes with Mariyam.
Overwhelmed by the tumult of emotions, she reached out to embrace her daughter. But Mariyam recoiled, her memory sharp with the bitter realization that her mother had chosen family reputation over her happiness. A moment of palpable tension froze the air between them, the silence bearing witness to the fracture in their relationship.
Maa Begum flinched at the rejection, confusion and hurt mixing in her gaze. Naurez, sensing the storm brewing, gently took Mariyam by the elbow and led her towards the lounge where the rest of the family awaited, an unspoken pact of familial support lingering as they walked away.
It wasn't long before Waqas and Anila, Meerab’s adoptive parents, arrived, and the atmosphere turned heavy with grief and anger as Anwar filled them in on the details. Murtasim's actions were dissected mercilessly, and with every passing second, his heart felt heavier—every accusation a blow to his already battered conscience.
"Waqas, I never imagined—" Anwar began, but Waqas erupted, fury igniting his words.
"Murtasim! You forced yourself on Meerab on the night of Mariyam’s rukhsati? How could you? My child? My innocent child?! You’ve destroyed her life! I trusted you!"
The words hit Murtasim like a physical blow, each syllable wound more deeply than the last. He could do nothing but stare down, wrestling with the tangled web of shame and self-loathing spiraling out of control.
“Shame on you!” Anila added, her voice sharp with anguish. “We raised Meerab like a delicate flower, and now you’ve thrown her into a storm of darkness!”
As their accusations rained down, Mariyam's eyes pierced through to him, disbelief and disgust etched across her face. "Bhai...I thought you loved her. How could you do this?"
Waqas’s face turned crimson with an incandescent fury. The shame burned in his chest as he processed the gravity of what had transpired. “Meri galti thi ki maine apni phool si bacchi iss ghar ko di,” he spat out, his voice shaking. “Maine apni bacchi ki zindagi barbaad kar di… Anwar, tumpar bharosa karna meri sabse badi galti thi.”
The desperate anguish in Waqas’s voice echoed like a dirge, “Jo baap apni sagi beti ko paida hote hi kisi aur ko saunp de...ek masoom bacchi ko qatil karaar de.....Usse ek baap bankar uski hifazat ki ummeed lagane ka yeh sila mila hai mujhe....Tum uske baap nahi ho!! Nahi ho tum uske baap!!”
Waqas continued further,"Apni beti ke muh par darwaza band karne ka sila mila hai mujhe ..... Aise darinde jaanwar ke saath apni beti ka niqaah zabardasti karne ka sila mila hai mujhe....Uss din woh mere darwaze par aayi thi mujhse milne par maine uske liye darwaza nahi khola....maine mayoos Kiya hai usse....main bhi uska gunehgaar hoon..."
Each accusatory syllable shook him more, his heart racing dangerously as he felt the strain. The agitation of his cardiovascular system was visible upon his pale visage.
Maa Begum’s concern peaked as she noticed Waqas’s growing stress. “Waqas, hosla rakho, Meerab ab khatre se bahar hai! Jaise hi hosh aayega, toh tum mil lena.”
Anila interjected, driven by rage and heartbreak. “Hum toh mil lenge bhabhi begum, magar aap main se kisi ko ab zindagi bhar Meerab ki parchayi ke bhi qareeb nahi aane denge,” she announced, her voice thunderous.
Maa Begum’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Yeh kya keh rahi ho?” she asked, incredulity etched onto her face. “Meerab humare ghar ki beti hai! Meri Bahu hai! Kis haq se rukoge humein?”
But Anila’s face hardened, torn by the pain of a mother whose daughter had been shattered. “Aapke khandaan aur bete ke wajah se meri beti toh rul gayi bhabhi. Humne ek baar jo galti ki, woh doobara nahi karenge. Ab hum apni beti ko doobara uss jahanum main nahi bhejenge aapke jaanwar bete ke paas!”
Waqas stood firm beside her, his voice resolute. “Tumhe kya laga, Murtasim? Meerab lawaris hai? Abhi main Meerab ka baap zinda hoon! Mere rehte, meri beti par koi aur takleef nahi aayegi!”
Anwar felt the shame envelop him like an iron shroud, heavy and suffocating. He had never stood for Meerab when it mattered most, and now his shame was laid bare in front of those who had loved her like a daughter.
In the dark heart of the hospital, amidst anger and accusations, Murtasim remained frozen, torn between a past that haunted him and a future that seemed irrevocably marked by the sins of the present. As he heard the exchanged words cascade around him, he understood that no amount of regret could erase the damage inflicted—the monstrous act that had turned joy into despair, love into venom. The echoes of the past weighed heavily on everyone, but for Murtasim, they were especially deafening.
Amidst the turmoil, he felt lost, adrift in a sea of chaos of his own making. As the conversation spiraled into accusations and blame, he realized he was being cast as the villain of this tragic play—one that was all too real, all too devastating.
As the family’s voices continued to clash, Murtasim felt more isolated, as if he were trapped outside the very door where Meerab lay—someone still breathing, yet untouchable. He could not shake the feeling that he had lost her forever, and that the refuge he sought in the cold hospital corridor would never shield him from the burden of his actions.
YOU ARE READING
Tere Bin
FanfictionMurtasim's eyes widened in horror as he stumbled upon Meerab's lifeless body in the bathroom, surrounded by blood. The shattered mirror, his own doing, lay nearby. Guilt and self-loathing consumed him. "Meerab...no...what have I done?" Murtasim whis...
