Qissa-E-Mohabbat

wajih~

The evening sun cast a warm, amber glow over the city streets as the sleek black sedan rolled smoothly through the quiet, winding lanes. Inside the car, the air was filled with a quiet tension, though the soft hum of the engine provided a gentle comfort.

Wajih at the wheel, looking all handsome with dark, tousled hair and sharp features, glanced at the woman sitting beside him. She was striking, her brunette hair falling in waves under her scarf, her brown eyes filled with a mix of frustration and uncertainty.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" he asked, his voice calm and soothing, yet laced with curiosity. His gaze flicked to the paper in her hand, where the address was displayed in urdu.

Unaifa nodded, exhaling in exasperation as she again looked in the paper again. "Yes. I called the number too, but the woman who owns the place is out and unreachable. Fatima khala's friend I've been trying to reach her all day, but no luck. I’m supposed to meet her here, and it’s getting late."

Unaifa was now getting scared,what she will
would do in the city this man could be a danger too her instinct was now kicking in gawar unaifa yehi karo tum her inner self screamed, aise kya hoga she started praying duas in her head,

Her voice trailed off as she peered out of the window, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar neighborhood filled with children playing it was a compact street.

Wajih offered a reassuring smile, his eyes warm and understanding. "Don’t worry. I know this area. Let me help you find it. We’ll figure it out.

He spoke with the kind of confidence that came naturally to him, like he had seen enough of life to know that most problems had solutions, if only you were patient enough to find them.

He made a right turn, the car gliding over the pavement effortlessly as the street signs became more familiar to him. Unaifa glanced at him with a mix of gratitude and wariness.

That’s kind of you. But I don’t want to be a burden…uff allah ab toh ye pakka mujhe baich dega, fatima khala warned her about these kind of men but all she could do now is trust her lord,

"You’re not a burden," he interjected, his voice steady. "I’ve got plenty of time. We’ll find this place together. Don’t worry about it."

There was a quiet sincerity in his tone that somehow calmed her inner chaos. She gave him a small, appreciative smile. He was handsome, but not in a way that felt intimidating. His presence was grounded, approachable, and that made her feel safe despite the unfamiliarity of the situation.

As they cruised down another side street, the buildings growing more residential and less commercial, unaifa sighed. "I should’ve double-checked the details before I came. I feel so silly."

The man shrugged, glancing at her for a brief moment. "We all miss a detail now and then. It happens. But if you’d like, I have an idea." He glanced at her, meeting her eyes, and she saw nothing but warmth and kindness there.

“You can stay with me for a few days while we figure this out. I’m trustworthy. I’m a civil servant unaifa you can look at my identity please don't panic i can feel you getting scared i'm trust worthy, and my mother lives with me, so it’s completely safe. I promise.”

For a moment, she stared at him, uncertainty flickering in her gaze. She didn’t know him, not really not at all dekh unaifa police ko toh pta hai accident ka toh kuch nhi hoga chal lete hain. But something about his calm demeanor, the easy confidence with which he spoke, and the subtle reassurance in his tone made her hesitate.

She wasn’t one to accept offers from strangers, but something told her this was different. He wasn’t offering out of obligation or some hidden agenda,allah ji help please maybe it was simply a kind gesture, a solution to her immediate problem.

She let out a breath. “That’s… really kind of you. I don’t want to impose, but… I don’t really have many options.”

“No imposition,” he said with a reassuring smile. “I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. And I have my mother at home, so it’ll be perfectly safe. She’ll be happy to meet you.”

The mention of his mother eased her worries a little more. A family home, an older woman—she could imagine the peacefulness of it, a kind of safe haven from the uncertainty of the day.

"Okay," she said, finally, her voice was soft. "I’ll come with you for a few days."

With that, they continued on their way, the car pulling into a quiet, tree-lined street after a few more minutes of driving. The man parked in front of a charming two-story house, its exterior a mix of warm brick and ivy, giving it a timeless, welcoming look.

As they approached the front door, the man opened it for her with a flourish, then led her inside. The house smelled faintly of lavender, and the soft light filtering through the curtains gave the place an inviting, homey feel.

They were greeted immediately by an older woman who appeared from a hallway. She was beautiful in the way that time had gracefully worn its presence, silver hair neatly pulled into a loose bun duppata on her head, her face lined with wisdom and kindness. Her eyes sparkled with warmth as she smiled at the woman, extending a hand.

“You must be the young lady my son saved and invited to stay,” she said, her voice rich with a gentle lilt. “I’m fehmida, his mother. I’m so glad to meet you.”

The woman, now feeling a wave of relief, returned the smile and shook the older woman’s hand. “I’m unaifa Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Of course, dear. You’re welcome here as long as you need. Let me make you some tea,” fehmida said, turning toward the kitchen with a kind, maternal air. Unaifa followed her, feeling an unexpected comfort in the presence of this gracious woman, whose eyes seemed to say she understood everything without the need for words.

As they settled into the cozy living room,
unaifa learned, wajih left as he has to handle a few work matters. The atmosphere was so inviting, so full of warmth and understanding, that unaifa’s initial apprehensions began to melt away.

She wasn’t just staying in a stranger’s house she was in a home filled with kindness and sincerity, a place where she could catch her breath before moving forward.

Fehmida poured them both tea, the delicate clink of the cup against the saucer breaking the comfortable silence. “I hope wajih hasn’t been too much trouble for you he's a bit scary at first but my son has helped plenty of people so be at ease bacche everything will be fine,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Unaifa smiled. “Not at all. He’s been very kind khala.”

Fehmida chuckled you can call me amma like everyone else. “He always was. He’s a good boy. I’m glad you feel comfortable here please take rest and if you need something please don't hesitate to call me wajih dropped off your medicines and take them after you finish the tea,

And for the first time that day, unaifa did. She felt safe, at ease, surrounded by people who cared. As they sat together, sipping tea and talking, for few moments unaifa forgot what happend to her or what her past was the home was healing her in some way....