A Little Tangled Up

7 | Past

Bashir Khan and Asjad Yazdani were childhood friends, even though their families did not get along. Their friendship stayed strong because they did not let their families' political differences affect them. They decided to marry their children to end the old feud between their families.

Asjad had one son named Abid. Bashir had two children: Javed and Jawaria. They thought marrying Abid and Jawaria would be a good way to bring peace between their families.

The wedding of Abid and Jawaria was simple, with only close friends and family attending. Jawaria's rukhsati was fixed after she finished her studies.

Abid had always liked Jawaria, who was as delicate as a doll. Somewhere along the way, love for Abid had blossomed in Jawaria's heart as well. Both were happy with their marriage, dreaming beautiful dreams of their future together. Little did they know what fate had in store for their love.

That day, there was a party at Asjad's house. He had received a ticket from his political party, and in celebration, he invited friends and relatives over for dinner.

Jawaria arrived with her family. She was wearing a beautiful flowing light blue long kameez adorned with intricate white embroidery, paired with matching trousers that had subtle embroidery at the hem. Draped over her shoulder was a coordinating dupatta with a grid pattern and embellished borders. She looked exceedingly beautiful. Abid's eyes kept drifting back to her, while Jawaria, stealing glances at Abid, found his presence in the black shalwar kameez even more striking. His commanding presence and the confident way he carried himself only heightened his appeal in her eyes.

The house was alive with the buzz of conversation and laughter. Friends and relatives mingled, enjoying the festive atmosphere. In the midst of this, Abid's eyes sought out Jawaria, unable to resist her allure. As he watched her, his heart swelled with love and pride.

Abid signalled Jawaria to come upstairs with a gesture of his eyes. Jawaria's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise. She glanced nervously at her bhabhi standing nearby, who was busy chatting with someone. Jawaria looked back at Abid and shook her head in refusal. This time, Abid's eyes narrowed in displeasure, and he signalled again, more insistently, before walking away. It was clear that he wasn't going to take no for an answer—Jawaria had to go upstairs.

Her heart pounded as she made her way through the crowd, her mind racing with thoughts of what Abid might want to discuss. She hoped no one noticed her departure, especially not her father or brother, as the celebration carried on downstairs.

As she ascended the stairs, the noise of the party faded, replaced by the sound of her own quickening breaths. She reached the top and found Abid waiting for her in the dimly lit hallway. His expression was a mixture of frustration and longing, as he was leaning against a doorway.

"Hume yaha kyu bulaya?" Jawaria asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

(Why did you call me here?)

Abid took her hand, leading her into a quiet room away from prying eyes.

As Jawaria and Abid entered the quiet room, Abid closed the door gently behind them. The soft glow of a single lamp cast a warm light over their faces, making Jawaria's delicate features appear even more ethereal.

"Abid..."

"Yaar, main thori derr tumse baat karna chahta hoon," Abid began, his voice had frustration, "Niche toh tum karne nahi dogi." 

(I just want to talk to you.)

(You won't let me do it downstairs.)

Jawaria's eyes softened as she looked at him. "Zahir hai, achha thori lagta hai. Achha toh khair yun uppar ana bhi nahi lagta, kya sochenge sab?"