Jaan-e-Azlan❤

37

The morning felt different.

Mantasha sensed it the moment she woke up.

The curtains were already drawn back, sunlight flooding the room, and the usual tension-the quiet rush that always clung to Azlan on workdays-was missing.

She sat up slowly.

Azlan was by the window, phone in his hand, his voice low but firm.

“No. Push it to next week.”
A pause.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Another pause, then-“I’ve cleared the day.”

He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.

Mantasha blinked. “Aap theek hain?” she asked carefully. “Aaj toh aapka schedule—”

“Koi schedule nahi hai,” he said simply, turning to face her.

That made her sit up straighter. “Matlab?”

He walked toward her, unhurried, sleeves rolled up, no tie in sight. “Matlab aaj ka din tumhara hai. Sirf tumhara.”

Her heart skipped, unprepared.

“But aap kaam ke liye—”

“I brought you here because of work,” he interrupted gently. “Par aaj… kaam ruk sakta hai.”

She searched his face, trying to understand. There was no arrogance in his expression, no grand declaration-just quiet certainty.

“Aaj hum yahan se jaa rahe hain,” he continued. “Aur main nahi chahta ke tumhein lage ke tum sirf meri meetings ke beech ka waqt thi.”

Something in her chest tightened.

“Azi–”

“Misha,” he corrected softly, “Zindagi mein pehli baar, main chahta hoon ke ek din sirf tum aur myn, bghair kisi tension ya pareshani k saath guzaaryn. Jahan ham apni kuch yaaden bna skyn. Myn chahta hun k yeh jo hmyn time mila hy, ham isko enjoy kryn.”

She looked away quickly, afraid her eyes would give her away. Somewhere between childhood memories and the past few days, something had shifted inside her—she knew it and now it was impossible for her to ignore.

They spent the morning walking.

No security. No calls. No rushing.

They strolled through quiet streets, shared street food she insisted he try, laughed when he clearly didn’t like it but pretended he did anyway. He bought her a small bracelet from a local shop—not expensive, not flashy—just something simple.

“Iski koi khaas wajah?” she asked as he fastened it around her wrist.

“Haan,” he said. “Taake jab bhi dekho, tumhein meri yaad aaye.”

She nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

By afternoon, they sat near the water, shoes off, feet brushing the edge. The wind was cool, familiar, comforting.

Mantasha hugged her knees, watching the waves. “Aapko yaad hai,” she said suddenly, “jab main choti thi aur aap mujhe school chhorne jaate thay?”

Azlan smiled faintly. “Roz.”

“Mujhe lagta tha aap bohot serious ho. Mery classmates b mera mazak bnaty thy. But I always defended you. Woh nai jaanty thy k aap meri life myn kya muqam rkhty hyn, Ya aap kitny important hyn. Azi, myn boht zyada khush hun aap k saath.”

He didn’t speak.

She continued, unaware of how carefully he was listening. “Shayad mujhe samajhne mein der lag rahi hai… lekin ab jab main aapko dekhti hoon, sirf cousin ya dost ke taur pe nahi–”