| Hawaaon Ke Paighaam | Messages Of The Wind | A Tere Bin AU

| Moscow |

Some keep a diary,

seems like a fantasy,

but it may require some love and desire,

something to cover me...

Many Days Earlier

Hyderabad, Pakistan

Salma Begum sighed as she leaned back on her favourite armchair. It had been her husband's. He'd always sat on it whilst looking out to their private veranda, pipe in hand and looking every inch the strong, able leader he had been. And in it all, he had also looked like the husband she had adored. As with every wife in their culture, her husband had become her world, and their ranks had become an anchor for her, more so after he'd passed.

He had been long gone and it had been just her and her two children that she adored; as different as day and night and though one was always chasing the storm clouds in the sky, the other had been a constant in her haveli.

Not anymore. Her haveli, a humungous, majestic wonder which left people drooling at the mouths, was still just that but also incredibly empty despite the leftover guests who would leave in a few days. She didn't mind solitude. She relished it, in fact. Her personal time away from her duties was precious, but it had always been accompanied by the knowledge that somewhere within the walls of her grand home, her young daughter lounged in her room or any of the lounges, painting her nails, talking to her friends or just catching up on university work. It had also included her son most times, though not recently; the innate knowledge that he'd be in his wing, either working, exercising or relaxing. Not next to her but close enough for his presence to be felt.

Salma Begum sighed again, looking out onto the sparkling green lawns as dusk fell. The haveli felt very empty and solitude suddenly felt like loneliness. But to be lonely with a daughter, son in law, son and daughter in law, and a legion of staff?

What a silly notion.

Murtasim strode through the tall double doors of his main Pakistan home, his suit jacket hanging on his arm and his hand rolling the sleeves of his slate grey dress shirt up over his forearms. The house welcomed him like an old friend, as it always did after any time of absence. It had only been four days since he'd left for the walima but the impending knowledge that he'd been leaving again soon made him deeply breathe in the sweet, musky air which was a constant around the haveli.

Looking around at the pristine surroundings, now stripped off from their previous décor, he nodded at the maid who rushed forward with a glass of water. Nodding when asked about dinner, he paused.

"Maa Sahab ne khaya?" he asked, frowning.

The maid shook her head.

"Abhi nahi, Khan. Khanum ke-" she faltered, looking up at him before looking down as if she'd made a mistake. He realised why as she spoke. "Bari Khanum ke liye abhi unke wing mai khana laganay waalay hain." She completed, correcting her supposed mistake of calling his mother with the title that was officially his wife's now, wrongly thinking he may take offense at it.

Nodding, he placed the now empty glass back on the ornate tray.

"Mera bhi wahin lagaiye." He ordered before leaving for his wing.

Salma Begum sat down elegantly at the intimate dining table in her wing; a slightly smaller version of the grander ones in the communal areas. Seeing the extra plate setting, she raised her head just before she received the good news. With a smile on her face, she nodded, sitting back and waiting for her son who'd come back on a surprise visit. When he walked through the doors of her dining room, she knew just from his attire that he was pretty tired with work.