"How are you sweety? " He asked.
"He's here. " A wisper came.
"where are you? "
" locked. "
"Where's mummy? "
"With him"
Izad Shah was always the infuriated and stubborn child, with a messed up past, still surviving a regretfull life, he aims...
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Izad POV...
I was in a desert alone, nothing on surround me just dust. The sun burned my eyes. I was soaked in sweat, my insides churned and I felt like throwing. I could hardly see, but I knew there was no one. The sun was coming close to me by every passing second. The heat intensified and I felt my skin melt. I saw Dad walking to me.
'I don't wanna go to jail Baba!!! '
My eyes opened, and inhaled as much air as I could. Pushing my blanket away, I sat and gulped water down to my burning throat. It was just three hours till I slept. We were in Hyderabad to meet some investers. Zafar was staying in another room of the hotel, I shouldn't trouble him, he hardly slept due to the long route.
I need to work, I'll go mad like this. My eyes captured my guitar, wrapped in the bag, titled on the side of the dresser. Zafar probably have left it here. My hands itched to run through it strings. I sat on the bed positioned my black guitar on my lap, news echoing behind me. I don't want to be engrossed in my tunes. It was an escape for me. We all need that. I like being lost in these tunes. Before it was alcohal for me.
I played. I don't how long it was. I only heared the TV when Zafar barged in my room. "I'm hungry dude. I want a proper desi meal." he dropped on my bed and whined.
"Biryani is here's speciality." I informed, wrapping my guitar. Zafar didn't take a minute to place order as I went for a shower.
Zafar and I were trying to find work. Well, it was me. He inherited a buiseness, he was just helping me. I worked with him for a month or two. It wasn't distracting me enough, I wanted something that was mine. Which I can make my mark upon.
The most difficult thing in this world is to convince someone to light their wallet. No one, wants to spent their money. It's not just a currency. It becomes your life. You start to value your earnings the moment you know how hard is to earn every peny.
Muhammad Haroon, the well known cement manufacture in this area, closed my file and folded his hands on the table. He was rejecting me. I knew. There always this dissapointed look they make when they are gonna say no. All of them do that. "Izad. It's great." but he still isn't gonna invest. "But I don't have much resources to invest." I almost suppressed my smile. He started with the legacy. You first tell the pros and then the cons, and then you become the most helpless person that you definetly are not. "And you don't have degree Izad."
" I have experience. I know my work." I retorted.
"Yes. You maybe do. But it doesn't make any sense that you left your family buiseness all of a sudden and came to me."
