Jahaan-Ara

Chapter 12: Part II Coming Home

"Remember yourself as a little girl, she is counting on you to protect her." Olivia Penpraze

______________________________________________________

Standing in the lounge Jahaan-Aara was trembling like a leaf with Kiran standing beside her. After 15 long years of separation wondering if she would meet her brother, the auspicious day had arrived. Kiran grasped her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze; both women were nervous.
"You're dressed, you little rascal." Qamar teased his son. His voice felt was familiar. Deep but soft.
"Kiran!" Qamar called out in a deeper and urgent tone. "I'm hungry! What have you cooked?" 

"In here." Kiran held back her excitement that shot through her veins.

In the dimly lit rectangular lounge, Jahaan-Aara pinned her eyes on the wide door; her heart pounded like a ceremonial drum increasing rapidly every millisecond his footsteps approached near. Little Jahaan-Aara ran into the lounge announcing her father's arrival. Then her father followed. Qamar made his way into the lounge holding Qasim in his arms.
"I'm starving-" He entered the lounge kissing his son on the side of his neck. His mouth dropped open ready to speak, but he couldn't utter another word. Inside the lounge was a petite young woman dressed in religious black garb. Qamar instantly lowered his gaze respecting her modesty, but something about her aura felt familiar. He earthed his son and slowly looked at the petite young woman. Who was she?

Dressed in dirt blue jeans and a black shirt, Jahaan-Aara eyes welled up standing in the same room as her brother. A shiver ran through her bones, a feeling of déjà vu overcame her. He was tall, with thick curly black hair touching the frame of the door. 
He needs a haircut. She instantaneously thought. He donned black framed spectacles over his sharp inky charcoal black eyes. He was smart, lean with slanted shoulders. She'd seen this face before; she'd met these eyes before. He was a spitting image of their father she'd seen in the pictures. His face was sharp with a protruding jaw sporting a wild beard. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She ached to be near him.

Qamar peeled off his glasses revealing a small scar just above his right eyebrow. He looked at his wife's liquid eyes. There was something spectacular about tonight; he felt it in the energy of the room. Kiran looked worried, sad or maybe joyful. In silence Kiran shook her head confirming what his beating heart suspected. This petite young woman was someone special. Qamar met the petite young woman's gaze, there was a kinship in her eyes; it was warm and inviting. A tense silence filled the room. Qamar was terrified of asking his wife for confirmation, afraid it would be a mirage. He inched closer to the young woman. Was this the sister he'd been searching for all his life? The closer he stepped, the weaker his body. Was this his sister that he lost in his childhood? The sister whose search tipped him on the cusp of insanity? Qamar stopped just a few steps short of Jahaan-Aara and leaned back. He pressed his hands on his hips and shook his head in disbelief.
"Choti? (Little One) No-this cannot be." His eyes moist. "Is it-?" He couldn't speak. How could he? Jahaan-Aara's jaw dropped opened to confirm, but there were no words. She reached out to touch her brother but he lifted his hand up in shock.
"Kiran?" He breathed. "Tell me!" His urgent voice broke. His heavy head hung before Jahaan-Aara. His shoulders shuddered. Jahaan-Aara reached out stroking his head of hair.
"It's me, Bhai-Jaan." She breathed. "I've come home." Tears cascaded down her eyes on this auspicious night. Qamar's legs gave way. He stumbled. It was too much for him. Quickly, Jahaan-Aara reached out and tucked her arm around his waist and held him. Kiran lunged to her husband's rescue and both women sat him safely on the kat (bed/simple sette)
"It's me bhaijaan." She pressed her hand on his chest. "It's me, your little sister."

The anger pent up inside him, the frustration of losing his sister finally escaped through the pressure cooker. He couldn't look at Jahaan-Aara afraid it would be a cruel lie. Qamar stepped away and stood tall on his feet with his back towards the two women. He couldn't handle it. At least a warning, at least, a inkling would have allowed him to prepare for this shock. He spun round and cupped Jahaan-Aara's small face in his large hands. His eyes red and puffy.
"Are you my sweet Choti that I lost in my childhood?" He cried. "Where have you been my dear sister? Do you know how long I've been searching for you?"
Jahaan-Aara scanned his clothes, his hands, and his face. Finally, she'd found him. She broke down into a river of tears and sobbed heartily against his warm chest. Qamar wrapped his arms around his young sister and kissed her scarf clad head. Kiran watched the heart breaking scene unfold before her crying tears of joy. He found peace in his sister's arms.
"Mera bhai-jaan." She whimpered crying all the tears of the years she spent alone. She cried for the the days and nights were she clung onto the window bars waiting for someone to take her home; hoping that her parents would come back and love her. Wondering, why her brother didn't take her to the lake to sail their boat? She cried the tears when she was locked in the cupboard, punished for yearning to see her brother. She cried the tears when she was alone in the cold and caned for her rude attitude at the school. She cried for the love she craved from her brother. Kiran watched the heartbreaking moment, a moment she'd prayed for so long. A brother holding his long lost sister in his arms as they both cried the hundreds of nights they lived apart. They'd found each other, at long last.