The warm sunlight filtered through the curtains of the grand bedroom in Khan Haveli. The birds chirped outside, and the sounds of bustling activity from the servants downstairs could be heard faintly in the background. It was an ordinary day for most, but not for Murtasim Khan. No, for him, it was the start of an unusually strange and nerve-wracking day.
He woke up, as usual, stretching lazily on the bed, expecting to be greeted by the sight of Meerab sleeping peacefully next to him. But to his surprise, her side of the bed was empty. Frowning, he ran a hand through his thick hair and sat up, glancing around the room.
"Meerab?" he called softly, but there was no response.
Thinking she must have gone to the bathroom or maybe stepped out for something, he shrugged and got up to get ready for the day. After all, it was nothing to be concerned about—yet. But soon, things took an odd turn.
---
Murtasim descended the stairs with his usual air of confidence, dressed immaculately in a crisp white kurta. He expected to see Meerab at the breakfast table, sipping her tea or reading the newspaper, perhaps waiting to exchange their usual banter. But instead, he found her sitting there, looking intently at her phone and not acknowledging his presence at all.
"Good morning," Murtasim greeted her with a soft smile, hoping to receive one of her shy glances in return.
Meerab, however, remained silent, her eyes glued to the screen, as though he hadn’t even spoken.
Murtasim raised an eyebrow, confused. "Meerab?" he tried again, stepping closer.
Still no response.
He frowned, waving his hand in front of her face. "Hello? Earth to Meerab? Mujhe lagta hai ke tum neend mein ho aur mujhe ignore kar rahi ho," he joked lightly.
Without even looking up, Meerab set her phone aside and stood from the table, brushing past him as if he were invisible. The cool gust of air that followed her felt like a direct slap to his pride. He turned on his heel to follow her, growing more puzzled by the second.
"Meerab, what is this?" he asked, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice as he trailed after her down the hallway. "Pehle to tum mujhe subah mein ignore kar rahi thi, ab to mujhe dekh bhi nahi rahi ho."
She continued walking, her head held high, still offering no response.
---
Murtasim was bewildered. He stood there in the middle of the hallway, watching as his wife walked away without a single word, leaving him standing like a lost child. Meerab never ignored him like this—sure, they argued sometimes, and she could be stubborn, but this level of coldness? This was new.
For the next few hours, the pattern continued. Whenever Murtasim approached her, she would find a way to walk away, leaving him more and more frustrated. It wasn’t like he could just demand an answer from her—he knew better than to provoke her further. But what *had* he done?
Was it something he said last night? He replayed their last conversation in his mind, trying to figure out what could have gone wrong. Nothing stood out. They had gone to bed like any other night. So what had happened between then and now?
"Mujhe koi ghalti yaad nahi aa rahi," Murtasim muttered to himself, pacing back and forth in his study, occasionally glancing out the window to see if he could catch Meerab somewhere.
---
By noon, Murtasim’s confusion had turned into full-blown determination. He wasn’t going to let Meerab spend the entire day angry at him without even knowing why. And so, began his mission to make her talk to him—by any means necessary.
