Broken desires

24

"Get ready." The cameraman's call drew everyone's attention to the camera. The whole family was now ready for the photo, all smiles.

But Huzaifa glanced at his mother, father, Arbaaz, and Rabia. His father and Arbaaz stood together with their arms draped around their wives.

Then, looking away, he noticed Moomal standing a short distance away, staring at the front camera with a shy smile. Unbeknownst to her, he had suddenly lifted his arm and brought her closer to him in a side hug.

At his unexpected action, Moomal looked at him in surprise, and at that very moment, the cameraman captured the beautiful moment.

"Done." At the cameraman’s signal, Mueez Sahib left the stage with everyone else. Huzaifa followed, but Moomal stood there, still shocked, watching him go.

She couldn’t believe how close she had been to him. The scent of his distinctive perfume lingered in her breath. Thinking about it made her face flush, and her heart raced as if trying to escape its cage.

"You first pulled him in front of everyone, and then Huzaifa hugged you close like that. You’re making progress, sweetheart," Rabia, noticing Moomal’s condition, returned to tease her. But seeing her shyly bow her head, she smiled and said, "Let’s go."

She guided Moomal back to everyone else.

After the photo session, when it was time for Maham to leave with her husband, the women of the house reacted as if Maham were leaving for Antarctica rather than a nearby village. Initially, the men let them cry, but when the bride and other guests continued shedding tears, their grandfather scolded them all.

They made their way home, and after sitting in the living room for a while, everyone went to their rooms to sleep.

Even after a long time, sleep eluded Moomal. Her mind was restless with thoughts—first Huzaifa’s anger, now Maham’s departure. For days, she and Maham had been sleeping together and talking for hours before bed, but she had avoided mentioning him. Without Maham to talk to, her mind was once again deprived of sleep.

After tossing and turning, frustrated, she gave up trying to sleep. She picked up her scarf and quietly left the room, so as not to disturb anyone.

The large mansion-like house was eerily silent at this time of night. There was only one light on in the living room, casting a soft glow. Feeling trapped inside, she decided to go up to the roof. With small steps, she made her way to the stairs.

As she passed the boys’ room, she cast an annoyed glance at the door. "After disturbing my rest, he must be sleeping soundly," she muttered before turning away.

She was relieved to find the roof door already open. As soon as she stepped outside, the cold wind greeted her, and a faint smile spread across her lips.

She sat down on one of the chairs and closed her eyes, embracing the calm atmosphere. Since childhood, she had loved the night in the village. The cool, pollution-free air had always soothed her mind and heart.

Often, in these quiet moments, she would close her eyes and imagine her ideal life—one where Huzaifa would talk to her, hold her hand, and play with her loose hair. In these dreams, there would be no one else between them, not even Ruby. He would express his love to her.

But as she dreamed, her heart ached more, even as she couldn't stop herself from indulging in these fantasies. This was the only place where she could confess her feelings, where she could imagine him as hers.

Except for these dreams, this fake world, what did she have? Moomal Usman had become Moomal Huzaifa, but her life was still unchanged. She was still burning with unrequited love.

Lost in her thoughts, she felt a gentle touch on her face. Someone had softly wiped the tears from her eyes.

And how could she forget this touch?

"Huzaifa..."