Jahaan-Ara

Chapter 13: Doubts

Author's Note: This chapter will have a fusion of Pakistani music.
Please note: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE TRACKS TO GRASP THE TRACKS. THEY ARE A BONUS. I respect those who don't listen to music. You are not obliged. I am merely taking advantage of Wattpad multimedia platform for a whole experience of this chapter. Click CC on the You tube Video to view the English Translation/subtitles. The English subtitles are also in this chapter as dialogue. Enjoy. 

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Most true is it that "beauty is in the eye of the gazer." My

master's colourless, olive face, square, massive brow,
broad and jetty eyebrows, deep eyes, strong features, firm,
grim mouth, -- all energy, decision, will, -- were not
beautiful, according to rule; but they were more than

beautiful to me; they were full of an interest, an influence

that quite mastered me, -- that took my feelings from my

own power and fettered them in his. I had not intended to

love him; the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate

from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at

the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously arrived,

green and strong! He made me love him without looking at
me.

-Jane Eyre

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Standing on the steep hill int he vaalley, Jahaan-Aara watched the convoy of Jeeps meander their way around the valley driving over the wooden bridge and make its way through the narrow roads. It had to be Rohail Saab, she stood in excitement watching the cars make their way towards the haveli. When she could no longer see the Jeeps, she made her way into the woods wondering who else was coming.

Things had changed at the haveli, along with electricity, a slip road leading from the main road cut through the field allowing vehicles access to the main front door of the haveli. Delivering food, equipment, bulky items became easier from the traditional of carrying the load on a donkey or horse and cart.

Before Jahaan-Aara approached the haveli, she stood back in the fields as the jeeps parked outside the haveli. A group of seven to ten young fashionably dressed men and women jumped out of the car dressed in neon green and pink skinny jeans, sunglasses, leather jackets taking pictures of the Haveli not in its glory. Bibi Firdousi called in extra help from the village of maids and male workers who unloaded the vehicles and carried the suitcases inside.

"Be careful with that!" Yelled the female guest. Donning a wide straw hat, she wore brown khaki trousers cropped from the ankles, a sleeves shirt with bead necklaces draped around her neck.

From inside Adila came racing towards her, her dress bouncing behind. "Auntie Millie!"

The woman hugged Adila like a long lost friend. "I'm so happy to see you, Auntie Millie!" Adila squeezed her tight.

"So am I squirt." The woman pinched her nose.

Jahaan-Aara's assumption that Auntie Millie was a figment of Adila's imagination proved false. Auntie Millie was real and true as the sun, moon and stars. This paved the way for Adila's comments and memories of her mother plausible. Jahaan-Aara was now open to any notion that her mother didn't die at child birth, but maybe later, was she dead? Or was she still alive? Doubts seeped into her mind.