"وقت بھی گزر جائینگے، بڑی عجیب مُلاقات ہوگی
جب ہم ملیں گے وصل کی رات میں اور شمبنی برسات ہوگی"
It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did.
One unexpected rejection, one unexpected acceptance.
A sacred bond that tie them either for eternity or damnat...
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Zaviyar drummed his finger on the wooden table in a rhythmic manner. His glasses clad eyes squinted at whatever he was looking at his computer.
The door to his cabin knocked and he permitted the person to come in. His secretary stood at the door and told him
"I've cleared your schedule for today. All the meetings for today are rescheduled for the next week."
Zaviyar's eyes never left his computer and he dismissed his secretary without looking up at her. The door clicked close behind her wake and only then he glanced up. Pulling his laptop shut, he left his chair and faced the floor to ceiling window of his cabin. He eyed the Cartier watch on his hand, a gift from his mother when he turned twenty. He traced the time on his clock.
Fifteen minutes to twelve thirty.
He contemplated for a whole minute, before finally abandoning his cabin and leaving the office building. He took out his car and put on the gas and went on the road. After his brother took time off from work to help his wife with the upcoming baby, Zaviyar took over. Not as the CEO, that job was still very much Ahad's. He just was handling everything in his brother's absence. But right now, he needed the time to sort things out in his life. He reached his destination and parked the car outside the Jail. He kept seated inside for another long minute before finally getting out. He walked the steps of the building and informed who he was here to visit. He was taken to the room and he sat on the chair, waiting for the person to show up.
In the meantime, he took out his mobile and worked on some emails. If old Zaviyar would see him now, he would shoot himself, but people change. He changed for the better.
The faint of the door opening drew his attention from his phone to the person who strolled in. He stood up while pocketing his phone and stared into the same pair of eyes he inherited.
The eyes of his mother.
His mother sat on the chair and he did too, never breaking eye contact. Her frail hand which was so weak held the phone to her ear. He too held the device and put it on his ear.
"Kese hu Zaviyar?" (How are you, Zaviyar)
His finger curled on the receiver and he dropped his head.
"You look tired."
Her voice was still very much the same. Strict and stern. No nonsense. But, still the relief that washed in his bones upon hearing her talk to him was more than enough.
"Is Ahad over working you? You should tell him to shut up and do your own thing."
A laugh escaped his lips. His body shook with his fist of laughter making Ghazal teary eyed, but she she held back. As always, she didn't break. Not before her son.
