"Mujhe jhelna mushkil hai nader," she said with a smile while her gaze was fixed on the table.
("It's difficult to tolerate me, Nader")
"Main jhel lunga," I replied.
("I'll manage")
She looked up towards me, then continued.
"Mai khubsurat nahi ho...
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"Hakim, I need my car key in two minutes," I said our servant, then quickly headed towards my car.
Exactly two minutes later, Hakim came rushing towards me with the key in hand.
"Thank you," I said without wasting any time and started heading in the direction Sahara had gone. Her driving is already bad, and she left in anger, and I am sure she must be driving even worse right now.
"Yaah Allah, please grant her a little patience," I prayed for her, but my heart was still uneasy. Then, exactly five minutes later, I saw her number plate in front of me, and finally felt some relief. Following her car, I took out my phone and dialed her number.
After a couple of rings, I heard her voice.
"Who is it?" she asked, her tone curt and stern.
"It's me, Samir," I replied softly.
And with that, she hung up the call.
"Oh Allah, give me patience," I said to myself, taking a deep breath and calling her again.
She answered this time, but didn't say anything.
"Sahara?" I called her name, sensing the complete silence.
"Don’t say my name, Mr. Farsi," she suddenly said.
"Alright, Miss Reza—"
"I dare you to say that too," she threatened me before I could finish.
"Mohtarma? What’s your problem?" I was completely puzzled.
"Don’t call me anything, Mr. Farsi, and leave me alone," Sahara said in frustration.
"Alright then, is 'jaan' okay?" I don't know what was going on in my mind; she was angry, yet my shameless heart wanted to tease her. There was no response from her. Then I noticed her car slowing down. Seizing the opportunity, I pulled my car up beside hers, rolled down my window, and started looking at her.
She glanced at me; her face was flushed, but I was confused as to whether it was from shyness or anger.
I gave her a smile.
"I’m sorry, jaan," I said softly.
"I don’t need your apology" she burst out, and started driving at full speed.
"Patience, Samir, patience. You can handle her. Only you can handle her," I encouraged myself and took out my phone again. Then, with the count of 1...2...3...
"Hukum apka tha, Joh maine na maana. Khatawaar hoon mai, Na aaya nibhana."
I played the lines I had kept especially for her, while speeding up and following her from behind.
"Do you think I will melt because of all this, Mr. Farsi? Go and do this with your cousin," she ruined the beautiful moment by bringing up her name.
