Ishq-e-Junoon

20. Naseeb

-Gunaah hamari rooh ko zakham laga deta hain,
Aur humein samajh nahi aata ki bechaini kis baat ki hain

☾

The suffocating tension inside Zaakir Shah's haveli thickens as the evening of Dilara's forced nikkah approaches.

Dilara, lost in her thoughts, sits quietly in her room. The despair in her eyes is mirrored by the silence that fills the space. Her fingers trace patterns on her lap, hands trembling as the weight of her fate presses heavily on her chest.

"Ya Allah, agar uss aadmi ka saath mere naseeb mein likha hain, toh mujhe himmat aur sabr dein... baki aapko jo manzoor hain," she prays softly, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart pleads for strength, though deep down, she feels like she's drowning in uncertainty.

[O Allah, if it is written in my fate to be with that man, then grant me the strength and patience to endure it... as for the rest, I leave it to Your will.]

Downstairs, in Zaakir Shah's study, the air is thick with greed and manipulation. Zaakir sits with Ansar and Zareena, discussing Dilara's fate as if she were nothing more than a pawn in their scheme.

"Saif ne apni dono betiyon ke naam kaafi zameen aur paise rakhe hain," Zaakir says coldly, his eyes narrowing as he locks gazes with Ansar.

[Saif left a considerable amount of land and wealth in the names of both his daughters.]

Ansar, still reeling from the humiliation of losing Izzah to Shahmeer, tightens his jaw. "Janta hun... Isliye toh uss Izzah se nikkah karna chahta tha, par wo toh bhaag gayi uss Shahmeer ke liye," he spits, bitterness dripping from his words. His bruised ego demands retribution, and Dilara is now the replacement for what he couldn't have.

[I know... That's why I wanted to marry Izzah, but she ran away for Shahmeer.]

"Chalak ladki nikli Izzah...kaafi bada haath maara usne, khair wo nahi toh uski behen hi sahi." His words reflect his vile view of both sisters, reducing them to mere objects of advantage.

[Izzah turned out to be clever... she played a big game, but if not her, then her sister will do.]

Zaakir nods, his mind already calculating. "Nikkah ke baad uske signatures le lo... saari zameen apne naam kar lo, aur mujhe mera hissa chaiye." Zaakir's eyes gleam with dark intent.

[After the nikkah, get her signatures... transfer all the land into your name, and I want my share.]

"Mil jayega," Ansar assures him, his voice as cold as steel.

[You'll get it.]

Zareena, disdain curling her lips, interjects, "Agar sirf zameen aur paisa chahiye tha, toh is manhoos ladki se behtar toh Dua Malik se nikkah kar lete! Tumhe usse muh maangi raqam mil jaati."

[If all you wanted was land and money, you would have been better off marrying Dua Malik! You would have received the dowry you desired.]

Ansar smirks at his mother's frustration, brushing it off. "Ammi, fikr nahi karein. Sab kuch apne naam karte hi Dilara ko faarigh kar dunga. Aur agar nahi bhi chhoda, toh kya farq padta hain? Dusra nikkah Dua Malik se kar lunga." His smirk is full of cruelty, his words dripping with vile intentions.

[Ammi, don't worry. Once everything is in my name, I'll dispose of Dilara. And if I don't, what difference does it make? I can always marry Dua Malik.]

Outside the study, Wahaj stands in the shadows, fists clenched at his sides. Each venomous word from Ansar cuts deeper, igniting a fire inside him that he can no longer ignore. His heart pounds as anger surges through his veins.

He couldn't believe the greed and selfishness that drove them to force Dilara into such a marriage. It made him sick. He knew that no matter what he said, his parents wouldn't change their minds. They had already decided, and to them, Dilara was nothing more than a pawn in their game for wealth.

But for Wahaj, it was more than that. A protective feeling flooded his heart, but this time, it wasn't just the concern of a cousin. It was deeper, stronger. He didn't just want to protect Dilara—he wanted to save her from the fate being forced upon her. He had to act, now.

Without wasting a second, Wahaj rushed toward Dilara's room. The door was slightly ajar, and as he pushed it open, he saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, staring blankly into space. Her face was pale, the silence in the room was thick with despair.

"Dilara," he whispered, placing his hand gently on her shoulder.

She turned to face him, and when their eyes met, the dam broke. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before Wahaj could say anything, she began to cry. Heavy sobs wracked her small frame, and Wahaj felt as though his heart was being ripped apart. He hated seeing her like this, broken and defeated.

Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she wept. Her body shook with every sob, and Wahaj could feel the fragility in her. He had to do something. He couldn't stand by and watch her be handed over to Ansar like a sacrificial lamb.

"Dilara," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into her tear-streaked face. "Kya tum mujhe pe bharosa karti ho?"

[Do you trust me?]

Her answer was immediate. She nodded, not even needing to think about it. She trusted him completely, and that trust gave him the strength to do what needed to be done.

"Chalo mere saath," Wahaj said, his voice steady as he offered her his hand.

[Come with me.]

Dilara hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. Wahaj helped her stand, and together, they left the room. The haveli was quiet, no one noticed as they walked out the front door.

Wahaj opened the passenger door of his car, helping Dilara into the seat before sliding into the driver's side. He started the engine, his mind racing with thoughts of what he had just decided to do. There was no turning back now.

Dilara sat quietly beside him, her mind blank. She trusted Wahaj, trusted her Allah to guide her through this, but she had no idea what he was planning. She could feel the car speeding down the road, but her thoughts were too clouded to focus on anything else.

After a short drive, they stopped in front of a mosque. Wahaj got out of the car, walked around to Dilara's side, and helped her out. The mosque's white walls seemed to glow in the sunlight, a serene and peaceful contrast to the storm raging in both their hearts.

As they stood before the threshold of the mosque, Dilara finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "Hum yahan kyu aaye hain?"

[Why are we here?]

Wahaj looked down at her, his expression both gentle and determined. He knew what he had to do to protect her from Ansar, and from the hell their family was about to put her through.

"Mujhse nikkah karogi?" Wahaj asked, his voice firm yet soft.

[Will you marry me?]

Dilara blinked, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Wahaj was offering her not just an escape, but safety, respect, and maybe, just maybe even love.