"Mujhe jhelna mushkil hai nader," she said with a smile while her gaze was fixed on the table.
("It's difficult to tolerate me, Nader")
"Main jhel lunga," I replied.
("I'll manage")
She looked up towards me, then continued.
"Mai khubsurat nahi ho...
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As I stepped outside with the tray holding a cup of tea, I saw Samir leaning against the pillar in the open air. He was staring at the dark sky, lost in his thoughts, and I got lost in him. He held his cream coat in his hand, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. There was nothing wrong with rolled-up sleeves, but those veins-those veins are my problem. Does he stay like this at the office too?
"Besharam Insaan," My heart said.
"Your tea," I said, walking towards him.
"Thank you, Mohtarma," Samir replied without looking at me, taking the cup from the tray and walking towards the couch outside.
He placed the tea on the table, then looked at me.
"I need a bit of your time. Can I have it?" Samir asked softly. Today, there was no mischievous smile in him, but rather an unfamiliar quietness on his face.
I simply nodded and sat down on the couch.
Then, out of nowhere, Samir casually picked up the flower vase from the table and placed it on the ground beside him.
"Safety comes first," he said as he sat down, and I turned my face away to suppress my laughter. Has he developed a phobia of vases now?
"Well, I must admit, Sahra's clothes looks good on Sahara," he said while glancing at my outfit. And then I looked down at my clothes.
And then realisation hit me! Yaah Allah, why did I wear his brand clothes today?
"They're not mine, they belong to Uns Appi," I said, lowering my gaze.
"They look good on you," Samir said with a smile, and seeing that smile brought a strange peace to my heart.
Kuch ajeeb sa noor tha iski aankhon mein aaj. (His eyes had a different kind of glow today).
Yesterday, there was sadness in his eyes, but today, my eyes couldn't seem to move away from him.
"Bahut khubsurat lagh rahi ho Sahara, aaj," Samir said, taking a sip of tea and placing the cup down. (You look really beautiful today, Sahara).
And once again, my heart fluttered, hearing my name from his lips with so much affection.
What's surprising is how I could look so good to him right now? I wasn't even wearing any jewelry, and my outfit wasn't fancy as well.
"Don't lie, Mr. Farsi," I tried to reassure myself that his words were false.
"I don't lie, Sahara. You look good to me in every way-when you're angry, when you sit silently, even when you smile," he finished his sentence, and here I was, ashamed of my thoughts. To him, it wasn't my clothes or my jewelry that mattered-it was my essence. But why? Why is he saying these things today?
"Why are you here?" I asked directly, watching him place his empty cup on the table.
"Tumhe dekhne aaya hoon, Mohtarma," he replied simply. (I came to see you, Mohtarma).
