Risen from dust

Nineteen

Gujrat, 2013

After the devastating loss of his daughter, Noor, Harris and his family found themselves unable to bear the weight of grief within the walls of the haveli any longer. The place that once held cherished memories now seemed tainted, as if cursed by the tragedies that had befallen them. It had claimed the lives of his wife and daughter, and even his brother had chosen to leave. Saleem, Harris's brother, had taken an unexpected turn in life. He married a woman who was the antithesis of his usual preferences. She was devoutly religious and hailed from a prosperous family in Islamabad. The wedding ceremony was a modest affair, attended only by close family members. Saleem had initially resisted the idea, but Harris, desperate to salvage what remained of their shattered lives, convinced him that there was no point in allowing their circumstances to destroy them. Saleem agreed on the condition that he would leave the country, promising to return only when he laid eyes upon Noor, their missing daughter, once again. The pain of her abduction had inflicted a deep wound upon their family, and it was a burden they all carried. Meanwhile, Ayyub, had established a happy life with his family in their own house in Lahore. The distance from the haveli provided them with some solace and a chance to rebuild their lives amidst the loving embrace of a supportive community. Harris, contemplating the emptiness that permeated the grand halls of the haveli, decided that it was time for his father and two mothers to seek solace elsewhere. They needed a respite from the constant reminders of their irreparable loss. Sairah and Waliya, hoping for Harris to find love again, pleaded with him to consider marriage. However, he appeared to be deaf to their pleas, as if the very idea of remarriage was a betrayal to the memory of his daughter. The thought of moving on, of finding happiness in someone else's arms, seemed unthinkable when his heart ached for his lost child. He could not bear the thought of Noor languishing in a state of helplessness, yearning for liberation from her torment. In the depths of his sorrow, Harris clung to a glimmer of hope. He dreamt of the day when he would see Noor standing before him, safe and unharmed. It was this hope that kept him going, fueling his determination to unravel the mystery of her disappearance and bring her back home. Until that day came, he vowed to remain steadfast, his love for Noor unyielding, and his devotion to finding her unshakable. As Harris walked through the corridors of the haveli, memories of Noor echoed in every corner. Her laughter, her innocent curiosity, and her vibrant presence seemed to linger in the air. He couldn't escape the feeling that she was still somehow connected to this place, and he resolved to leave no stone unturned in his search for her. With a heavy heart and a sense of purpose, Harris prepared to embark on a journey that would take him to the depths of his own despair and to the heights of hope. He would traverse the darkest corners of the city, following every lead and investigating every possibility. No matter the cost, he was determined to find his daughter, to bring her back from the abyss that had swallowed her. In the midst of his grief, Harris clung to a flicker of resilience, an unwavering belief that he would be reunited with Noor one day. It was this glimmer of hope that propelled him forward, driving him to face the unknown with unwavering resolve. For in his heart, he knew that until Noor was found, his journey would not be complete. Amidst the turmoil that consumed Harris and his family, another tragedy that had struck—the death of his father, Chaudhary Imam. The loss of his father added another layer of sorrow to the already burdened hearts of Harris and his loved ones. Chaudhary Imam had been a pillar of strength, a wise and respected figure within the family. His absence left a void that seemed impossible to fill. The haveli, once filled with his authoritative presence, now felt hollow and desolate. The passing of Chaudhary Imam marked the end of an era, a solemn reminder of the fleeting nature of life. It was a stark realization for Harris and his family that time waits for no one and that they were left to carry on amidst the pain and challenges that surrounded them.

Islamabad, 2013

Noor couldn't help but smirk at her own victory, having successfully maneuvered through the chaotic streets. However, her elation was short-lived as she realized the pressing need to find a spot to pray her Asar prayer before it became too late. With a sense of urgency, she darted around, feeling disoriented in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Just as she was about to lose hope, a car screeched to a halt beside her. A woman, intimidating yet impeccably dressed, rolled down the window and berated Noor, her words filled with anger. "Can't you see where you're going, you foolish girl? You could have been seriously injured!"

Feeling a mix of fear and embarrassment, Noor replied, "I'm sorry, aunty. I just need to find a place to pray my Asar prayer. It's getting late, and I don't want to miss it."

The woman scoffed dismissively, "Do you think I have time for someone like you? I have important matters to attend to. Now get out of my way peasant!"

The word "peasant" reverberated in Noor's mind, stinging her deeply. Holding back tears, she observed a massive crowd ahead, jostling and clamoring as if something valuable was being distributed for free. Determined to fulfill her prayer, Noor made her way to a corner of the bustling crowd, finding a small patch of sandy ground.

After completing her prayer, she raised her hands in supplication and pleaded, "Ya Allah, please help me in this difficult time. Send me an angel in the form of a compassionate soul who can guide me out of this predicament. Provide me with shelter, sustenance, and a place to rest. You are the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful. Ameen."

As Noor rose to brush off the sand from her abaya, she was taken aback by a man standing above her. His face exuded charm and mischief, and he chuckled as if he had witnessed something incredibly amusing. This incensed Noor, fueling her anger towards this stranger who had invaded her moment of prayer and then laughed at her as if she were a fool.

"Noor." Zaaviyaar said. As she reminded him of something pure. 

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?" Noor demanded, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and frustration.

"I am Zaviyaar Ibrahim Khan, at your service, Madam Noor," he responded, laughing again. Zaviyaar hadn't known her name beforehand; it had simply popped into his head when he witnessed her fervent prayers, a rare sight in such chaotic surroundings.

Noor's anger intensified, questioning him again, "I asked you, how do you know my name?"

Rolling his eyes, Zaviyaar retorted, "Listen, you homeless girl, I simply said it randomly, okay? Don't act like such a stuck-up snob."

With a mixture of indignation and determination, Noor declared, "I don't have time to argue with you. I need to find a job and a place to stay. Allah Hafiz."

Zaviyaar watched Noor walk away, amazed by the audacity of this girl who appeared to have nothing, yet carried herself with resilience and dignity. A sense of intrigue washed over him, mingled with a tinge of wounded pride. How dare she insult him like that? He was Zaviyaar, accustomed to a life of privilege and admiration.