Tere Bin - Retro

Anwar

** Please star and comment below - New writer with a lot nerves and comments and stars are like the validation you know you need to continue **

Meerab and Murtasim walked past the grand living room to an equally large room in the other part of the house. That part of the house where Meerab never went, the part of the house that never existed for her. It was where her father existed.

Anwar was lying down with Maa Begum fussing around him. As they saw her, Anwar's face broke into a smile. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he mouthed the word "Meerab". There was a time when Meerab would have given her life to hear those words of acknowledgement from her father or even recognition, but now, it seemed too little too late.

Maa Begum hugged her and kissed Meerab first and then Murtasim as she repeatedly uttered "Mashallah". Anwar gestured to Meerab to come and sit next to her. It was too much, too soon for Meerab. She needed to make some distance. So, she sat on the far corner.

She stared at her "father", shocked at his appearance. He had aged a decade and then few. He had lost weight and some inches off his body too. Gone was the arrogance, the drunken, angry eyes, replaced with a calm, a grief, like he had seen one too many Shakespearean tragedies. 

Anwar also stared at his daughter. That word so alien, yet so comforting. She was the living embodiment of him and his beloved wife. His wife, the only person that gave him happiness and love and comfort. And when she was gone, he could not bear to catch a glimpse of Meerab. But today, seeing his daughter, he felt acknowledged, relieved, that nearly two and half decades and more of his wife's passing, a length of time when you begin to question if a person truly existed or not, he could see his wife. He could see her beauty in Meerab and if it was at all possible, Meerab was even more beautiful. 

She had flourished outside the Khan mansion. Her face was framed nicely around her long, luminous hair. Her eyes were black and she had that look of "youth", where every part within yourself bloomed with promise and joy. But there was the familiar tension on her face, her eyes a little scared, a little fearful. In that moment, Ahmed promised himself, that even if he was not there for Meerab in his entire life, he would make sure that she was taken care of for her entire life.

Meerab could hardly mouth any words. "How are you Baba?", she forced herself to verbalize. Anwar replied, "Much better now", recognizing her efforts to make a conversation. He could not blame here.

She trembled seeing Anwar like this. Low on her back, she felt soft touch, probably fingers, feather light. So, Murtasim was right behind her. He moved his fingers in a caressing gesture. She could not resist, relaxing into that feeling. Murtasim could be achingly kind, when he wanted to. Maybe he took pity on her, or so she thought.

Both Meerab and Murtasim sitting that close to each other was not lost to the other inhabitants of the room. Maa Begum looked at them in wonder. Her son, the rotten apple, with the temperament of an untamed horse, a dark black stallion, wild, who could only be calmed by the presence of this little girl. In the toddler days, people marveled at the bond between the "brother and sister". Then in the preteen days, it was "unusual" and then the word that Ma Begum heard behind her back, an "unhealthy" relationship. 

Anwar saw his daughter and his "son", Murtasim. He was only around for a few moments here and there for her entire childhood. But what was constant was Murtasim. He was there, holding her, guiding her, caring for her. As he looked at Murtasim, he wondered as he had rarely done so seriously before, was it just care, or was it more. He could not understand their relationship. It was a weird push and pull, like a dance of the flame and the wind. Just as the flame needed the oxygen from the wind to burn and the wind needed the flame to show its power, Meerab and Murtasim needed, wanted, supported, cared for and hated each other. 

The sensations from Murtasim's fingers and the warmth of his back was getting a little too comfortable. Meerab swiftly got up and excused herself to others and ran out of the room to the balcony. It was dark outside, too dark. She needed a few moments. This was overwhelming, her childhood seemed to be closing in on her. She needed to run. 

As she turned, she felt Murtasim come up behind her. "Meerab, stop". She shook her hand out of his reach, but he held on and twisted it behind his back. Now, they were face to face and he stared down at her. His breath, gentle fanning the trendrils of hair that had escaped her plait. She could see his overgrown beard in microscopic detail, his moustache shaped to his mouth, he always twirled it, especially when his mind was up to something. He smelt good, like he always did, a mixture of dark chocolate, cocoa and something musky and male. If it was at all possible, he looked more manly, more sinister, more dangerous. As he twisted her hand, she was forced closer to him, their bodies almost touching, as he moved closer to her neck and said softly "Did you miss me?". She calmed herself and gave a perfunctory shake, gesturing "No". He chuckled, she felt the rumble in her chest as he said "Really!!, You have learnt to lie, but don't you know, your heart always tells me the truth". Meerab stuttered, this was her worst nightmare. Murtasim sensing her, knowing her, reading her thoughts. How.

He was now breathing on her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She was powerless, the hands behind his back, caged by Murtasim. "I know I crowd you, I don't mean to" he said softly. "But I can't help it". Meerab tried to calm herself down. She took deep breaths, remembered why she was here and her life at the university, her internship, her future with Ruhail. As if Murtasim guessed it, he spat "Stop, Stop thinking of that jerk when you are with me, Maybe I need to remind you..". And then he kissed her at the juncture of where her shoulder met her neck. His beard was prickly but the sensation after so many years was electrifying. She whispered "Murtasim..N" and before she could say anything else he groaned, "Yes". And he kissed her again and his mouth moved along her neck slowly to her ears and her cheek and closer and closer, to the corner of her mouth. Meerab's insides tensed up. It felt so good. She felt herself losing the battle internally, the sensation was so electrifying. But she should know better, she knew better that it meant nothing. It was just a game.

As he intertwined her fingers with her and moved to her mouth, her mind went blank, she heard a voice from behind "Bhai.., are you there?"

**

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