Bekhatar kud para aatish e namrood main Ishq
Aqal hai mehv e Tamasha e lab e baam abhi
The word Ishq is made up of three letters, "Ain, sheen and qaaf" and these three letters stand for three stages of love.
Ain: Ain is for "ibadat" which means wors...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Mahjabeen placed her chin on her hand as she lay there watching Murtasim sleep, wearing her denim jumpsuit.
"Murtasim..."
She called his name softly, poking at this chin, but he snoored louder, "Ye kiska bhoot laga gaya ab tumhe yaar." Murtasim never snoored back at home. Something was seriously wrong, Mahjabeen slowly touched his forehead he didn't have a fever.
Was it this place? Was this place haunted?
She sat on the sofa, looking around then swiftly turning around as if there was someone, smiling softly as if she realised something, "I know you are there.."
Mahjabeen squinted as she watched the sunlight peeking through the window. The thin rays danced on the floor, and in her sleepy state, she thought it was something moving. Her eyes widened.
"Aha! Gotcha!" she whispered excitedly, jumping up from the sofa. "So, it *is* haunted!"
Determined to follow her "ghostly suspect," she tiptoed around the room, her denim jumpsuit creaking with every exaggerated step. She traced the beam of light across the floor, over the bed, and then... under the wardrobe. Mahjabeen crouched down, peeking underneath.
"Pakad liya, bhoot!” she muttered to herself, tapping her chin in thought. Remembering a desi nuskah her mother used to tell her about, she puffed up her chest. "Bhoot, jinn sabka bhi ilaaj ha mere paas!"
She dramatically took off her dupatta from her ba, holding it like a flag. "This dupatta will trap you! Chale jao warna... I’ll start reciting... kya naam tha? Nhi mai confuse nhi hoskti, I will start reciting *Dua-e-Bhoot Bhagao!*"
With complete seriousness, Mahjabeen began following the sunlight again, swirling her dupatta in the air like an exorcist on a mission. Each time the light shifted, she waved the fabric more vigorously, muttering nonsense phrases under her breath.
Just then, Murtasim stirred, groaning slightly as he cracked open one eye. He raised his head slowly, taking in the sight of Mahjabeen swatting invisible things around the room with a dupatta like a warrior.
"Mahjabeen... what the..." he mumbled sleepily, still half out of it.
Mahjabeen froze in place, her dupatta mid-swing. She spun around, her eyes wide. "Don’t interrupt, Murtasim! I’m getting rid of the bhoot!”
Murtasim blinked a few times, groggy and confused. “Bhoot?”
Mahjabeen nodded fervently, waving her hand dramatically at the sunlight. “Look! It’s right there! I’m following it, na. Ammi always said, sunlight is the enemy of all bhoots. I'm just helping it leave.”
Murtasim stared blankly for a moment, then sighed, dropping his head back onto the pillow with a resigned groan. "Mahjabeen... you need sleep more than the bhoot does..."
