Tapish تپش

one

His was a fairly traditional family. They weren't too modern but they also weren't too keen on following archaic practices as well.

In their family, they didn't marry for love. But neither did they marry for money. They married for good values, honest personality and a sterling character report. Rayyan was no different. He too married for finding a perfect fit for his family and life. His mama had found his wife for him.

She was an orphan and has snared his mother's heart with her innocence at the yateem khaana she frequented. Duaa. Indeed she was the embodiment of all his prayers.

Theirs wasn't love at first sight. Like most marriages, they too started with the physical aspect of their matrimonial bond on the very first night itself.

She was an innocent little thing, in more ways than one. At 27 he was more worldly than she at 18 was. Their 9 year gap worked perfectly well for them.

She had become his world and he's sure she felt the same. At least that what he thought. Because the scenario in front of him depicted otherwise. He was duped by her innocent facade.

There was his wife entwined in a passionate embrace with a man who's not him, smack in the middle of the hospital's porch.

How did he know it was her? Well, he couldn't mistake that shawl for anyone else's. It was simply not possible because it was custom made. Just for her.

He had had it made when he visited the pashmina district. There was no other replica. He had paid enough to make sure of that. And there she was, draped in the symbol of his love and affection, being fondled by another man.

His mind was in a rage. He could kill right now. The man then palmed her belly and caressed it so lovingly that he was sure that their relationship was not so innocent.

Because the fruit of their passionate nights was growing right where the man had cupped her. It should be him in his place. That should have been his baby!

He wanted to march over to them, peel his wife off of that bastard and beat him black and blue. But he was a proud man.

He wouldn't do anything to drag his family name through the mud. Though his wife seems to have no problem doing the same.

So much for all the declarations of love for his family, he sneered.

He waited for her in their bedroom. With just a single table lamp illuminating his outline, he seethed in anger.

It was the middle of monsoon and there was what seemed to be the beginning of a raging thunderstorm. But that was nothing compared to what was brewing in his heart.

Unaware of the storm that awaited her, Duaa raced home to greet her husband to share what would only be the biggest blessing of their lives. Oh their little love would be so pampered.

Rayyan had told her quite specifically, on more occasions than one that he wanted her pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.

It was a very chauvinist thing to say, and she had playfully reprimanded him on the same, but she secretly loved it.

She was sure he wouldn't have any other reaction other than being ecstatic. He would be home by now. He mostly is.

Ever since they've shifted cities due to him overlooking the new branch of their factory, he never leaves her alone in their home. It was more like a palatial villa.

She giggled at the memory when he had referred to it as a cottage, and like the naive little girl she is, she actually expected a small and humble home on their arrival. She had never been more wrong.

She had so many things to share with him. So many. He would be proud of her when she would recount her tale of what transpired today at the hospital.

But before that, she had to find her suddenly elusive husband. He usually lounges in the recliner by the window after coming back. Must be in the bedroom still. She rushed up as fast as her feet could carry her.

She was jubilant. She saw his form engulfed in darkness and his eyes staring into space.

"Rayyan, aise Kyu baithe hai aap? Koi pareshaani hai kya? After what I'm about to tell you, all other things would be insignificant!" She giggled out.

His eyes softened hearing what was his favorite sound. Her laughter.

He looked at her with disinterest, gave her a look over once and his unwavering gaze settled on her belly. The proof of her infidelity.

His rage came back tenfold. She mistook his look for passion and blushed. She thought somehow he knew of her surprise, but still wasn't deterred from saying it out loud. That would only make it all the more real.

"I was waiting for you. Guess lover boy wasn't keen on letting the love of his life and child go, now was he?"

"Huh? I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. You're the epitome of innocence" he mocked her,
"Were you at the hospital?"

"Yes, but it was a surprise. Did you follow me you impatient man?"
Too wrapped up in her own bubble, she still wasn't able to guess his foul mood.

"I am surprised, alright. I don't know what made me marry you but God am I thankful for seeing your true colors before I was in too deep!"

His ominous words gave her a sense of foreboding. An impending doom.

"What are you saying Rayyan? Please be clear. You're scaring me."

"Clear? I'll be crystal. Let me reiterate a scandal that I came upon today."

He huffed out an angry breath and continued, "I was passing by the hospital and what did I see but a couple in a very compromising position. the man I don't recognize but the woman was none other than my wife. I'm a rational man, so I waited for there to be a perfectly rational and platonic explanation. But turns out I was wrong. The man went on to grope my wife. His action meant one thing and one thing only.  And before you go all melodramatic on me saying that the evidence was planted or someone is trying to cause a rift between us, it was me who saw it with my own eyes, nobody pointed it out to me."

"And let me guess, you're pregnant!" She was too shocked to react and just nodded meekly.

"And now you want me to claim that child as mine. Mine! Rayyan Hamdaani is many things, but a fool is not one of them. So take that dirty lineage back to where it originated. I'm not fathering anyone's bastard!"

That got her out of her stupor and earned him a slap. Well deserved one at that.

"You have no right to call your own flesh that. You're not in your senses Rayyan. You don't know what you're saying. Please just let me explain. It wasn't what you think" She pleaded.

"I know what I saw and I'm not an idiot. So take this bast.. filth and go back to it's father. I saw the way he was expressing his happiness. I'm not cruel to separate a father from his kid. But you, I'm not going to divorce you. You'd never be able to marry him. All your life you'd only be a kept woman and have a child born out of wedlock. That's the punishment you get for betraying me. Now get out."

She may be a yateem, an orphan and not have any worldly belongings. But she had her self respect. And with just the clothes on her back, she walked out.

The only incriminating evidence of her presence was that Godforsaken pashmina. How he loathed it's sight.

It was beautiful and tainted,just like its owner.