The atmosphere in the Khan Haveli had been tense ever since the latest conflict between Murtasim and Meerab, courtesy of Haya’s constant scheming. A fight had erupted between them the previous night, one that had left both of them fuming.
Haya, ever the instigator, had twisted facts and played her games, making it seem like Meerab was deliberately sabotaging things between Mariyam and Naurez. Despite knowing better, Murtasim had let his emotions get the best of him, and in a moment of anger, he had lashed out at Meerab.
The words exchanged between the couple were sharp, wounding, and their effect lingered, even as the night deepened.
After their fight, Murtasim had gone to bed without uttering another word, and Meerab was left pacing their room, her mind spinning with a mixture of frustration and vengeance.
“Usne mujh par shak kaise kiya? Aur woh bhi Haya ke kehnay par? Main bhi kuch kam nahi hoon,” Meerab muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing at Murtasim's sleeping form. Her anger was like a bubbling pot ready to spill over, but instead of confronting him again, she smiled slyly.
An idea began to form in her mind, a wickedly mischievous one. She tiptoed around the room, gathering her tools—her makeup kit. If Murtasim wanted to act like a fool, she would gladly make him look like one.
The irony of it all brought a wicked grin to her face.
---
As Murtasim lay sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of what was happening, Meerab approached him with the stealth of a cat. The room was dim, illuminated by the soft light from the bedside lamp, but that was enough for Meerab’s expert hands.
She started by applying a thick layer of foundation on Murtasim’s face. His sharp jawline was now masked under layers of powder. She then added blush—a ridiculous amount, turning his cheeks into a deep rosy pink that would rival any doll’s. Her hands worked swiftly but meticulously, ensuring every detail was perfect.
“Red lipstick? Yes, let’s make it bold,” she mused to herself, uncapping her favorite bright red shade and applying it generously on his lips. The color contrasted hilariously with his dark, rugged features, making the sight all the more absurd.
She stifled a laugh as she moved on to his eyes, adding mascara and an overly exaggerated cat-eye. To top it off, she smudged black eyeshadow around his eyelids, creating what looked like a poorly done smokey-eye effect.
As she took a step back to admire her work, Meerab bit her lip to stop herself from bursting into laughter.
"Bhaari make-up ke saath Murtasim Khan!" she thought, almost doubling over.
To finish off her masterpiece, she rummaged through the wardrobe and found one of her dupattas, which she carefully placed over his head like a veil, framing his heavily made-up face.
“Yeh toh kamaal lag raha hai,” she whispered to herself, barely containing her amusement. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back her laughter once he woke up.
---
The next morning, Murtasim woke up feeling refreshed, unaware of the havoc that had been wreaked upon him. He stretched, yawned, and glanced at the empty spot beside him in bed. Meerab, it seemed, had already gotten up.
His head still heavy with the lingering irritation from last night’s argument, he didn’t bother to look at himself in the mirror as he made his way to the dining hall for breakfast.
Downstairs, Maa Begum, Mariyam, Anwar, and Haya were already seated at the table, chatting quietly among themselves.
“Good morning, Murtasim,” Maa Begum greeted her son warmly.
