Ishq-e-Junoon

6. Tasawwur

-Ek hi shakhs ki toh baat hain maula,
Saara jaahan kisne maanga hain

☾

Shahmeer Khan sat behind his grand oak desk, the air thick with the scent of leather and polished wood. His office, with its high ceilings and imposing portraits of his ancestors, carried an aura of power. The massive portrait of his late father loomed over the room, a constant reminder of the legacy Shahmeer was expected to uphold.

The founder of their party, his grandfather, had laid the groundwork decades ago, and his father had led with an iron fist. Now, it was his turn.

Three years had passed since the car crash that took his parents from him, but Shahmeer's face remained emotionless as the memory flickered in his mind. Weakness had no place in his life. The world didn't care for the mourning of powerful men.

As he reviewed the documents on his desk, his thoughts drifted to the upcoming elections. Becoming Chief Minister was no longer just a goal—it was a necessity. He needed control, authority. Everything he had worked for led up to this moment.

His features were hard, chiseled from years of self-discipline and ambition. He ran a hand over his neatly trimmed beard, the touch of his fingers meeting the same precision that he applied to every aspect of his life.

His body, honed by years of rigorous training, was a symbol of the discipline that had brought him here. Muscles, taut under the dark blue shalwar kameez he wore, spoke of a man who was as powerful physically as he was politically.

Politics was a game of predators and prey, and Shahmeer had always been the hunter. Every smile he offered, every handshake—it was calculated, carefully curated to serve his ambition. Emotions were a liability in his world.

"Sir, south ka area abhi bhi thoda kamzor hain," one of his senior advisors said cautiously, breaking Shahmeer's thoughts for a moment.

[Sir, the southern area is still weak.]

He nodded, his expression impassive. "Campaign ko wahan aur aggressive karo," he replied, his voice cold, authoritative.

[Make the campaign more aggressive there.]

The conversation continued, plans were set in motion, but the weight of his ambition suddenly felt distant, as though something—or someone—had quietly unsettled the balance in his world. And when the last man finally exited the room, leaving him alone in the silence, it hit him again: her face, her presence, that fragile beauty that had seeped into his soul like a lingering shadow.

Shahmeer leaned back in his chair, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Kaise mumkin hain? Ek jhalak, sirf ek jhalak, aur dil pe qaboo nahi raha?

[How is it possible? Just one glimpse, only one glimpse, and I lost control over my heart?]

He closed his eyes, the memory of her soft form flashing in his mind.

Ek nazar ne deewana bana diya... agar aankh bhar kar dekhta toh kya hota?

[One fleeting glance drove me insane... if I had gazed at her completely, what would have happened?]

Shahmeer couldn't help the thought, a rare vulnerability slipping through his usually impenetrable exterior. His entire life had been built on power, control, and calculating each move, but here he was—undone by a moment.

"Ya Allah," he murmured, his voice rough, almost a whisper, as he leaned forward. His fingers traced the edges of his desk, but his mind was miles away, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. "Ek baar... sirf ek baar uss hoor pari ka deedar karwa de, bas... phir chahe ye election haath se chala jaye."

[Oh Allah, once...just once let me catch a glimpse of that heavenly beauty, after that even if this election slips from my grasp then so be it.]

He let out another humorless chuckle, the weight of his own words sinking in. Shahmeer Khan—ruthless, calculative, a man who could break enemies with a single move—was praying for a glimpse of a girl he had barely seen.

Shahmeer's thoughts continued to spiral as he stared out of the window, the city lights twinkling like stars in the distance, their brightness unable to match the pull she had on him.

In that moment, Shahmeer realized something he hadn't before. This girl, this fleeting glimpse of beauty, had broken through his armor in a way nothing ever had. He didn't know how, and he didn't care.

The night was quiet, but Shahmeer's heart had been ignited.

Agar yeh deewangi hain, toh phir main apni zindagi ka sabse bada junoon jeene ke liye tayar hoon.

[If this is madness, then I am ready to live the greatest obsession of my life.]