Enwrapped

Chapter 17

How was Saboor doing?

Did she have dinner yet?

Maybe she did, it must be almost dawn there.

Wait, did she have a good sleep? Or was she tossing and turning around like she was doing here recently?

Muzammil closed his eyes and raked a hand through his locks. Despite the reassuring messages she sent him every now and then, saying she was fine and well and was enjoying the seminar, he was not satisfied at all. He just wanted to hold her in his arms to assure himself that she was safe and happy. Her being so far away and all of the tensions that she had right now were not sitting right with him. He just wanted to satisfy himself, or if not, then just distract himself somehow.

Muzammil dialed a number and held his phone against his ear, waiting for a response, when the person on the other end picked up, his demeanour changed entirely.

"Bade dinoun baad phone kiya tunay!"

"Haan, bahot dinoun baad...saath aayega kya? Mausam achha hai yaar, thodi riding ho jaaye..." He tugged down the hem of his t-shirt, fixing it.

"Haan yaar, main bhi bore ho raha thaa, chai gup-shup se baat bann jaayegi."

"Theek hai, main nikalta houn, bees minute mein miltay hain."

~

It had been a while since he had taken hold of his bike, and now was great time to relax. The slow hum of the bike, the cool breeze, and the occasional revving of the engine had melted all of his worries into nothing but bliss.

As he approached the little stall by the cliff, he noticed his friend's bike already parked. He got down his own bike and headed to the table where he was sitting. "Qassam!" he exclaimed.

"Arey Muzammil, ghar pe bataakar aaya hai na tu?" He asked, partially making fun of the last time's debacle.

"Haan... wo, Saboor Singapore gayi hai."

"Tu nahin gaya saath mein?"

"Business seminar ke liye gayi hai wo. Mera bhi kaam tha... chal, tu apni bata."

"Mazey mein hoon yaar! Meri beti ka teesra birthday tha, guess ussne kya wish kiya?"

"Barbie Doll?"

"Nahin na! Ussne bhaalu maanga."

"Bhaalu?" Muzammil repeated, confused.

"Haan, bhaalu. Asli waala. Jungle waala."

"To dila de na! Tere paas kaunse paisoun ki kami hai?"

"Yaar, tu samajh nahin raha - billi ya khargosh maang leti, main phir bhi dila deta. Bhaalu khareedna illegal hai."

For once, Muzammil looked at Qassam and his unnecessary confusions and burst into laughter.

Qassam only smiled. "Finally, yaar. Itna tension mein kyun hai? Kuch hua hai kya?"

"Not really, yaar," Muzammil said, rubbing the tensed muscles on his forehead. "Bas mujhe lagta hai ki kuch ho jaayega."

"You wanna talk about it?" Qassam signaled a young waiter to get them tea.

"Baat karne ke liye kuch hai hi nahin. It's just... Saboor is... I think she's not okay. She's struggling. Everyone sees it, and yet she's not ready to accept it. Whenever I ask her if everything is alright, she says yes. She doesn't take any help I offer. Very closed off... very unlike the woman I fell in love with and married."

The waiter came in with two glasses of kadak masaala chai, and all conversation halted. They both took a glass and picked a biscuit from the tray, munching on it*.*

"Muzammil, kabhi kabhi log apni ladaai khud ladna chahte hain. Lekin iska matlab ye nahin ke tu haar maan le. If she doesn't want to tell you, don't pester her. But do support her."

"Kab tak, yaar?" Muzammil asked, his exasperation finally on display. "I want to support her, but she just pretends everything is okay. Humaaray beech jaisay...aik deewaar aa gayi ho."

Qassam lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Dekh, yaar, Saboor teri biwi hai, aur tujh se zyaada usey koi samajh nahin sakta, maan liya. Par shaayad wo khud ko samajhne ki koshish kar rahi hai. Everyone goes through changes in their life and everyone navigates through it differently."

"Teri baat to sahi hai, but I just can't see her in pain. Uski aziyat mujhay zyaada takleef deti hai."

"I'll tell you something. Jab meri beti Noor paida huwi thi, hum donoun ki families mein bahot tense maahoul thaa. For weeks, we wouldn't be able to open up to each other, talk about what's going on, koi conversations nahin. But not once during that whole time did I feel 'wrong' about it, you know? Because uss waqt, humaaray liye saath baith kar lunch karna, ya baby appointments par jaana, ya in general, aik doosray ke saath rehna kaafi thaa."

"Kabhi kabhi, sunna ya kehna nahin, saath rehna afzal hota hai. Usko space chahiye, space de. Lekin jab wo tujhay bataanay ke liye, ya tujh se help lenay ke liye ready ho jaaye, to usey ye pata ho ki tu wahin hai, uske saath."

A few minutes passed by in silence, and Muzammil kept pondering on the words his friend just said. "Shaayad sahi keh raha hai tu. Maybe I just need to be there for her."

"Exactly." Qassam patted lightly on his shoulder. "Husband-wife mein ye subb chalta rehta hai. Tu tension mat le."

Muzammil smiled, and exhaled deeply. "Tujhse baat karke meray dil ka bojh halka ho gaya. Tu therapist hai kya?"

And both burst into loud laughter.

~

That night, as Muzammil headed back home, he was much more calm than when he had headed out. Parking the bike in its designated area, he got in, locked the doors, headed to his room and fell in a better sleep than the previous days.

~

Half a continent away, somewhere near dawn, Saboor's phone pinged with a message.

Muzammil: Saboor, I am always here for you. Even if you don't feel like talking about it right now, or can't figure out how to, just know, I'm supporting you, and I'll always be by your side. You're not alone. 🩷

~

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I haven't been here in a long time, but I hope to be consistent with updates. Enjoy reading and don't forget to let me know your thoughts!