Fitoor

ibadat

ibadat means 'worship' in urdu. also i tried my hardest with hindi/urdu in this chapter, please forgive me if it is not correct. Hindi is not my first language, I learnt it by watching Indian dramas and I took it in my first year of university, but even then I didn't exactly learn much. Please be kind. Also I highly suggest listening to "Yeh Fitoor Mera" to get a good feel of this story.

Maya left his arms for the first time that night as he laid her on her bed comfortable as if she was a China doll that would fragment from the slightest of touch. She noticed how the moment her arms left its firm grip on his neck, her heart fell. The indulgence of him was so immense that a moment away from his touch felt like she was incomplete. She had loved with a vengeance that ruined her but now she loved with a madness that felt right. For Sahir, she didn't feel the need to hurt him or hurt others to keep him, she had faith in her love this time. Being with Sahir made her understand how unnecessary her actions for Arjun were. Because true love cannot be caged, love is only true when it willingly chooses you over any other freedom, when it consents to being consumed by your qaid over the alternative of liberation by any other means.

She had fell in love before, but now she struggled with the idea of falling. One should never fall in love, because everything that falls breaks. From now on, she would rise in love. Because all that Sahir ever taught her, ever reminded her was that she was powerful and her power wasn't meant to be ruined by a weak man's love, her power was meant to be enforced by love of her caliber.

His love only fueled her even more. Such vigor his love carried, that it made her feel so much more substantial. His love was a high she would never be sobered from. His love was the only intoxication she willingly gave into.

She watched him and smiled as sat at the edge of the bed and raised her feet into his lap.

Sahir felt weak seeing the burn marks all over Maya's feet. Her obsession for him surely made him feel worried. But not about himself, but for her. Her lack of control over herself worried him. Somewhere in his quest to abstain from her, he had forgotten that behind the strong woman the world saw, his Maya was still a broken girl who craved love. Tonight, when she admitted how much he meant to her, Sahir too felt cherished for the first time. He was used to women using him as long as he fit their ideal perception of who they wanted. No one had gone to such great lengths to show him how much he was wanted. No one had pleaded to be a part of his life the way Maya did, nor had anyone even glanced twice when he left, let alone make a mannat for him the way Maya did.

Before he opened the lid of the ointment, he lowered his face and places a gentle kiss on the burn marks of her feet. She gasped feeling the softness of his lips graze her wounds.

"Sahir, what are you doing?" She asked in confusion.

"Ishq...tumse ishq. Ishq ka doosra naam ibadat hai, na? Main ibadat dene gaye the magar main bhool gaya ke mere ibadat sirf tum ho, Maya. Mere dua tum, mere rehmat tum aur mere parvardigara bhi tum."

(love...loving you. The second name of love is worship, right? I went to pray but I forgot that my prayer is just you, Maya. My prayer is you, my blessing is you and my God/sustainer is you.)

"Don't..." She whispered. "Don't give me the place of God, Sahir."

He opened the tube of ointment and began placing it softly on his fingers before gently rubbing it onto the burn marks. She winced in pain as the coldness of the cream touched the heat of her burn, stinging her. Sahir immediately sensed her discomfort and blew on her wounds, providing an instant comfort. Maya watched as he did so with such concentration.

"You know something, Maya?" He asked while still applying ointment, with his concentration on her feet. "You sell yourself short. You don't give yourself enough credit."