Hadh...Out of Limit

Chapter 2 : 'Zuhaan'

"It's almost time, ZUHAAN'S flight will land now any minute!" Said a guy with tall-Pole built and curly hair confined to head top, Arun Gupta. Arun along with his friends Rajeev Singh and Ali Azhar Abbas had come to receive their friend at Delhi International Airport.

"Hey Fatso! Stop eating now!" Exclaimed a Guy with chocolate complexion and blunt features which hid behind his colony of facial hair. Rajeev Singh he was.

"What? I am hungry dude!" replied a boyish-Man with both hands occupied, one had a burger and other, a glass of coffee and between these hands was a round tummy complimenting his short height and round facial features and a gullible soft smile. Ali Azhar Abbas.

"Guys! Attention here Please! He will be here any minute!" this voice came from an over enthusiastic person who was standing as close to the arrival gate as possible!

Zaid Parvez Seraj he was, son of Parvez Abdullah Seraj. An above-average height fellow with fair skin and grey eyes. A perfect muscled body and an energy like a squirrel. Zaid had immense love for humanity and environment. Zaid was a man who always kept his cool maintained, no one ever saw him loose his cool. Zaid liked wearing clothes that reflected life, bright clothes. Truly complimenting his bunny smile, was his humanity and a sensitive heart. He had respect for art and he complimented everything that he thought was beautiful. He was a pure heart and so whatever was in his heart was on his lips. Zaid loved his elder brother more than anything on the planet earth. He could go beyond his limits only for his brother.

"THERE HE IS! yelled Zaid pointing towards the crowd.

He was, in particular, pointing towards a suited man pacing through and cutting the crowd. He any way stood out of the crowd. His suiting had traces of the long journey. He was holding his mobile in one hand on which his coat rested the other arm pulled a huge black trolley bag, on which rested an air bag. Overall, it seemed like years of homecoming.

ZUHAAN ABDULLAH SERAJ, was a man with a straight face and stern looks. Below his face was a chiselled body, which was wrapped in black and white business suit, due to sweat the shirt, covered each muscle perfectly to reveal a shadow of his Warrior body. The coat rested on his arms and the sleeves of his shirt was folded up to the elbow length, revealing his muscular arms. The veins of his arms pushed the skin of his hand, that ran hot blood ready to explode any minute. The airport look was complete with a loose tie and shabby-straight hair. He had a Sea side sand complexion. On his face were sharp dry wheat lips that had never seen smile. They never had spoken words of appreciation for any living or non-living being. Situated along with a sharp Jaw line, right below a straight nose. Above the trio, were the real devils. The Eyes. They were a pair of almond shaped dark-brown eyes with sharp edges. They, were together with smirk of the lips, were deadly assassinators. Those eyes were designed to stare and tear the soul apart; it seemed as if they had in built X-Ray in them. They see right through you. They stare at you and look at you not with love, or prayer or mercy, but only with hate and anger most of the time. And the time they were not angry, they were closed to dream. One could easily quote him as 'Tall-Dark-handsome'. Dark, indeed, he was. People knew Zuhaan as the most heartless person on earth. Unlike Zaid, he hated emotions and never had smiled. Rumours and his co-workers knew him as a man who hated the idea of women. He was an incarnation of devil, as quoted by many, also his previous servants (all females) called him a soul-less monster. As dangerous as he looked, as heartless he was. No one can expect Zuhaan for any charity work, that was Zaids department. Zuhaan, was known to be someone who would never lose an argument. His anger was capable enough to even hit a girl if needed so, although this never happened. Zaid was always there to control him, in India. Zuhaan Abdullah Seraj was all about work and office. The only people he could possibly care about were his Brother Zaid and his Baba Parvez. His friends were all his acquaintances, who he said that he doesnt care about much. They are only his standbys. He is 'Zuhaan'.