𝗗𝗶𝘆𝗮𝗮𝗿-𝗲-𝗗𝗶𝗹

سوزِ دل ۴۔

ان کو بھی ہم سے محبت ہو
ضروری تو نہیں
ایک سی دونوں کی حالت ہو
ضروری تو نہیں~

Unko bhi ham sey mohabbat ho
Yeh zaroori toh nahi
Ek si dono ki haalat ho
Zaroori toh nahi~

Mujtaba was in his office, casually chatting with Murtaza while sipping tea, when his phone rang with an unknown number flashing on the screen. As he answered the call, the news from the other end struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly numb.

"Main Faiz Shah baat kar raha hun, Hamza ka dada. Mera pota aapki beti ko bhaga kar legaya hai sahab-"

(I'm Faiz Shah, Hamza's grandfather. My grandson has eloped with your daughter-)

Faiz drew in a sharp breath to continue, his voice shaking with rage. As his words came to a halt, Mujtaba's heart sank. Was this truly the reward for all he had done for his daughters? Could it be that a single moment, just one fleeting moment, was enough to bring him to ruin? Was this the reason people feared having daughters? The reputation he had painstakingly built from the ground up—was it all destined to crumble in an instant?

"-aur kuch hi deir mein woh nikkah karne waaley hain. Mera kaha maaniye aur meri batayi hue pata per chaliye saath aur khench kar lagaye mere potey ko ek aur apni beti ko bhi. Jawani ka josh thanda padega. Aaye aur lagaam da liye. Sahi sey tarbiyat toh kar nahi sake aap. Main ney unkey bulaaye hue Qaazi ko pakad ke rakha hua hai. Jaldi karen Mujtaba sahab"

(And in just a little while, they will be getting married. Listen to me and come with me to the address I've given you, and give my grandson a slap along with your daughter. The heat of youth will cool down. Come and control her. You haven’t managed their upbringing properly. I have the Qazi (marriage officiant) I invited held up. Hurry, Mr. Mujtaba.)

With a sharp taunt lingering at the end, the call was abruptly cut off. Mujtaba sat frozen, numb to the world around him. The bitter irony was unbearable—the very man whose own daughter had eloped with someone else was now taunting him.

Every moment spent with his beloved daughter, Zarish, came flooding back to him in rapid succession.

He remembered the first time he had cradled her in his arms, the tiny baby wrapped in soft pink, staring up at him with her big, innocent eyes. The memory of her first word, "Baba," still tugged at his heartstrings, the overwhelming joy of that moment had brought tears to his eyes.

He recalled the first time she had toddled towards him on her tiny feet, unsteady but full of trust. Now, the same feet, once so small and cherished, feet he had lovingly rubbed his beard against while she giggled from the tickling sensation, had carried her away with another man.

Today, his entire upbringing was called into question.

His brief trance shattered with the sudden ping of a notification. It was from the same number that had called him just moments earlier. Murtaza, who had already called out to him a few times, was now eyeing him with concern. Snapping back to reality, Mujtaba quickly composed himself and dialed a number. As soon as it was answered on the other end, he asked,

"Zarish kaha hai?"

(Where is Zarish?)

"Apney kamrey mein hogi."

(She will be in her room.)

Her mother, unaware of the storm about to hit, responded, completely clueless of what was to come.