Kabhi main, kabhi tum, kabhi yeh, kabhi voh

Part 5: The Face-off

Mustafa had spent the better part of his morning in the office, furiously working through the bug that Danish had alerted him to. After hours of debugging, running checks, and collaborating with his team, they were finally able to troubleshoot the issue successfully. Mustafa leaned back in his chair as Danish, feeling relieved, gave him an appreciative nod. "Thanks for jumping on this so quickly, Mustafa. Tumne sab sambhaal liya."

Mustafa gave a cold, almost dismissive nod, his mind already elsewhere. Though he knew Danish wasn't to blame for the situation that morning, the call had ruined his plans with Sharjeena. He couldn't help but feel irritated, even if it was irrational.

By noon, as the pressure of work lifted and the worry of staying late disappeared, Mustafa felt a little more in control. He had been dreading the possibility of having to cancel his plans again, but now that the work was under control, he sighed in relief. Without wasting time, he pulled out his phone and texted Sharjeena, "What time should I pick you up this evening?" His thumb hovered over the send button, nerves creeping in. He feared she'd reply with something like "Don't bother" or say she already had plans.

But her response came quickly: 6 pm.

A grin broke out across Mustafa's face, and he couldn't help but stare at the screen, feeling a warmth spread through him. He replayed the moment, the way she had responded so quickly. For a few seconds, he felt lighter than he had in weeks. His grin didn't go unnoticed, though—his colleagues, sitting nearby, glanced at him curiously.

"Kya baat hai, Mustafa. Zara humein bhi toh bataao?" one of his colleagues teased, but Mustafa, feeling suddenly self-conscious, simply glared at him.

"Tum logon ke paas apne kaam nahi hain kya karne ko", he snapped and spun his chair around to face the window.

He couldn't help it. He had felt disconnected from her for so long that this small interaction meant more than it should. "5 baje tak nikal jaaunga" he muttered to himself, checking the clock. That way, he would have enough time to beat the traffic and not keep her waiting. His mind wandered as he scrolled through his phone, and before long, he found himself looking at pictures of Sharjeena. Most of the photos were candid shots he had taken over a month ago—before everything started to feel distant between them.

One picture stood out: Sharjeena sitting on the balcony, reading a book, her hair falling over her face in soft waves. She had been wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, completely absorbed in her own world, and Mustafa had secretly snapped the photo, wanting to capture the moment. Another one showed her gardening, a content smile on her face as she tended to the plants. These little moments were what Mustafa cherished most about her, but they seemed so far away now, like echoes from another time.

His fingers hovered over one particular photo—Sharjeena, standing in front of the mirror, applying makeup. Her kohl-lined eyes, deep and expressive, had always been one of the first things that caught his attention when they'd first met. She was wearing a pair of delicate earrings, her expression thoughtful as she got ready for a dinner. Mustafa's heart ached as he looked at the image. "Duniyaa ki sabse khubsurat larki, meri biwi, meri Sharjeena", he thought, running his thumb over her face on the screen, tracing the outline of her features. How had he gone weeks without taking another picture, without appreciating her the way he used to?

A wave of guilt hit him. He had been so consumed by work, by his obsession with financial security, that he had let these simple, beautiful moments slip through his fingers. He set that picture as his new wallpaper, determined not to let his distractions pull him away again.

As the clock ticked toward 5 pm, Mustafa kept glancing at it, anticipation building. He was ready to leave, ready to make things right, even if it was a small step. He just hoped it wouldn't be too late.